Reflection of the last few days.

I was taken camping for the last few days but I didn't really expect more than three days with my parents and not much else.

Since this is the first time I've spent that long with them in a long time, I didn't quite know how to act, but we discussed the pairing of Rajesh and Howard in Big Bang Theory, a family friend and his partner, and Mark Gatiss. I had Maurice on my e-book to read, along with a few downloaded porny fics to keep me going through the evenings - since fanfiction is my main source of entertainment - and the third Harry Potter book as part of my 'finish all the books and get through The Hobbit by Christmas' plan. It's even been agreed that me and my friend can go camping alone together and I can actually take the stove. This is trust and progress right here. I had even managed to work out how to present as male to people who don't know me and I'm pretty sure it worked. The photos my mum took are some of the only ones I like, because you really can't tell. And that's fantastic. It seemed to be going well.

Until they suggested that Transgenderism is all in my head and if I were raised in the 'proper fashion' like a girl, then it wouldn't be there. That if I hadn't been shown Star Wars, Doctor Who, and all the fantastic movies I adore, then the notion of being in the wrong body wouldn't exist.

That hurt. Really. And there was nowhere I could go to get over it. A tent isn't the most private of places. Luckily I had my phone and was able to keep it charged enough over the days to talk to my partner, as a sort of touch-down to keep me grounded.

It only got worse. They pretty much left that there, but we went to a load of big rocks by the sea beach nearby and the weather was so warm blokes were taking their tops off.

I've never wanted surgery more than I did in that moment. It was painful and I was thinking the entire time that I bet these guys don't know how lucky they are and how much I'm going to be risking trying to get that myself. I've never felt more wrong about myself.

There were also a few little kids running about and I unexpectedly got yearnings for my partner and our not-yet-existent-but-it-will-happen child. He's a long way off yet, maybe more than ten years, but he is planned and I already love him.

I'm not far past my mid-teens, and my main thoughts recently are of top surgery/trans* life, my future child, and living with my partner next year for the summer. Big thoughts for a kid.

And from Monday I'm going to Dartmoor for five-ish days, where signal is so awful I won't be able to contact my partner. The longest we've gone without talking is three unexpected days and it actually almost destroyed our lives. I almost regret agreeing to this. I've hardly got any time to talk to her until I leave at 8am Monday and the only thing getting me through my life right now is the very realistic prospect of Summertime in Sweden. If I don't do this trip, my parents may not think I'm responsible enough, and that's what this is about. It's life-skills and responsibility. And fucking Dartmoor. Admittedly, that's why I'm going. I want to see where The Hound of  The Baskervilles was set.

So it's been a partially relaxing, mostly inwardly exhausting few days.