At the moment we talk about what my father did to me when I see my therapist. My therapist wants me to take a deep look at what he did in order to understand that it’s over and to find out how and how much this has effected my wish to be impotent and more girlish. To tell you the truth, over the past 20 years I have talked so much about that crap that most times I don’t feel anything when listing all my injuries and all the things he did. I normally just don’t feel it, and most times I deny to feel any anger or pain or whatsoever.
That being said, I have to add that of course I understand that I’d be a totally different person today if I had not experienced this abuse. But that counts for everyone with this background. To be honest, I think I have come out of this hell quite sane. I didn’t need to have a stoma, for example, like others. I can still pee through my own urethra. Not all my broken bones healed up perfectly, but I can move without pain. Over the years most scars have turned white, some remain pinkish. The scars on my soul didn’t heal up too well. It’s not that I haven’t had enough talks with therapist (more than enough), but that I can’t fit it all together to feel unbroken, unabused or uninsane, if you want. But most day I’m alright.
I didn’t see it coming that Ginny would become such an important thing for me. I thought dressing up would be enough, just for kink. You know, men who wear ladys’ clothes are a bit ill-reputed among gays. I have always failed to understand why, but that’s a fact. I think some gays think of wearing ladys’ clothes as unmanly and the very opposite of being gay. I don’t know. Over the years I have developed another mindset when I’m Ginny. I feel more like whole, sane and capable. I like the feeling it creates in my body and in my mind. When I’m her, I’m able to be weak. To feel more. To feel things more intensely without switching off. When I’m her, I can see more beauty in this world. It just makes me happy. She didn’t get hurt, my father didn’t rape her.