National Citizen Service - sounds like I'm going off to the Army.

Right now I'm in the middle of my time at Dartmoor, either Mountain Biking or doing Forest Orienteering, and this is indeed a pre-set post. I just need to write what I believe it will be like as a reference to myself.

Well the dormitories aren't anything like Hogwarts, but they'll do. Bunkbeds, which take me back to a school trip I did about six or seven years ago. The common room looks interesting enough and since I'm expected to be there when we're not out, it will have to do.

Overall, it doesn't really look that bad, I'm just incredibly reluctant because I'll be completely alone, cut off from my partner and one of my best friends when she really needs me, forced to converse with many girls and I'll have to befriend at least one of them but the boys will probably be more fun, or incredibly annoying. If one tries to make a pass at me I will be very upset and have to explain my partner and I. This could be difficult.

Here's hoping it isn't, and I make friends with the person I sit next to on the coach. Which is another worry. What will we talk about? Are we expected to talk all the way? What if I let slip about my partner and they're not cool with gay relationships. Actually screw that, what if they're just not cool with gay anything? This would pretty much end our friendship.

Alright let's hope I'm doing okay. I'll be sure to check in again on Friday evening.

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.

Keep Calm

Okay, so I've been beaten back into my metaphorical closet. But luckily enough, my closet is bigger on the inside.

I've explained to my real life friends, and my internet friends, and the support is phenominal. Aside from one friend originally refusing my name due to it's old fashioned origins, it's all good. And once I'd pointed out that that's rather the point, going by my love of all things Victorian, she saw my reasoning and agreed that maybe it is perfect. However she's shortened it to Lock. And my partner will use Lo or a variation thereof because in Swedish my name doesn't work at all.


I found this story. Seems So Easy for Everybody Else by etothepii. Seeing my own emotions and situation reflected in that of Charlotte/Sherlock, to the point of not being able to tell everyone and spending his childhood wondering if there was something wrong, it gives me hope. And in the comment section, there was a large amount of people who were also Trans* saying they'd cried over how accurate this story is. To know that I'm not the only person in the world, to SEE comments from people, it helped more than I ever thought possible.

So I'm content to just stay who everyone wants me to be, to respond to my given name, but here, in this wonderful thing called the internet, I can be who I really want to be.

Never mind.

My parents didn't believe that seeing yourself as not the gender you are on the outside is reason enough to change who you are and have yourself modified or your name changed, or pronouns, or anything.

Apparently I'm too young to make such a decision and this wouldn't have happened if I'd been focused on something else. I've been focused on Sherlock for a year, and this still kept coming up.

I still have to wait until I'm 18.

In for a penny.

Today I intend to tell my parents. I'm terrified and nauseous, and no amount of tea or gay porn on the earth can soothe that.

The longer I keep it from them, the more difficult it will be. It's already been a year since I brought it up and I can't ignore it any more.

So if I'm not here in the future, it's because something went wrong. Not to worry whoever read this.

Name check point 1.

Possible names I'm considering, so I can keep track. I know I wanted a neutral name but I also really like a few male ones. I have to rule out my original choice, Zak, because my partner has difficulty with Z's and I'm not okay with being 'Sack' on a day-to-day basis.

Sam
The only neutral name I can find and like, since it is the name of one of the Winchester brothers, who I idolise. Then again, it is only because of that. And it's the name of my original character in a group fic me and some friends write. However, it's my mum's nickname.

Lorcan 
An irish name, I believe. Or rather, the name of an Irish vampire pirate in a book by the title Vampirates. I think it's a beautiful name and his character is so strong and caring.

Mark
I just really think I could pull this off. Also Mark Gatiss, my idol and the person that I wish to be like more than anyone.

Adric
The first name of my original detective character, and the name of my favourite Doctor Who companion. Like Lorcan, it's not a name you come across every day, is it. Since Adric is from another galaxy and Lorcan is a vampire, I think it's safe to assume these names aren't used much.

Ben/Benjamin?
 Yet another character of mine. He was close friends with Sherlock (BBC era) when they were younger but was killed only a few months after they met. A dream idea, and a character that I've grown very close to.

James
I don't know. I just really like James.

His joy is my grief.

I've stumbled upon some documentaries on Channel 4, which I'm watching online only, about Trans* people going through the stages of becoming who they really are.

The title is a quote from the mother of Jonathan, the main focus of the first show I tried out, 'the boy who was born a girl'. I sympathise with Jon completely. He's my age, but has already begun the hormone treatment required to truly become a young man. While looking at photos of 'Natasha', he explained that he really didn't see a girl. He saw a man in drag, as he so bluntly put it. He'd never felt comfortable as Natasha, and when he first had all these thoughts and feelings they made him confused and frustrated. It was almost like watching a documentary of myself, except that I just felt relief when I worked it out. I wasn't the only person like this, but like Jon I hadn't considered that there was another option to being who society raised me to be.

His mother is amazingly supportive and he's so incredibly brave to be going through this in school. But while I'm overwhelmingly happy for him, I'm also getting a ton of painful feelings because my own parents told me to 'think it over' and come back to them when I'm 18, and that I was only being influenced by people I met online. True, at my age, especially then, I was susceptible to suggestion, but I'm wise and mature for my age, which should have been obvious.

I've tried to not think about it for a year, going so far as to force myself to not go there when my mind started to wonder, and I stopped going online at all, stopped visiting the blogs I frequented and asking people to not call my my chosen name, but to revert to my given one, but I literally can't do that any more. That's another reason for this blog. I don't trust diaries, since they're easy to get into and read, and where better to put my thoughts than the internet, where I can't exactly be judged too harshly, and even if I do, it doesn't matter.

Sometimes the sheer mass of what I'm thinking and feeling becomes almost overwhelming, and I feel nauseous when it's at it's worse. It is such a big change, bigger than just realising you're gay (not that that isn't a big thing in itself) but you are in fact asking the world to see you differently, to address you differently and respect you as someone you once were not. But at the same time I'm painstakingly aware that I can't go on being who I am forever. I'm just not comfortable with it and never have been. Getting changed at school has been difficult since I was very young, discussing feminine things, swimming pools, it all just screams wrong at me. I even had to refuse going to the prom, simply because wearing a dress is everything I'm not and I wasn't allowed to have a suit instead.

As Jon said, if I could just get rid of the gender dysphoria and be who I was born as, that would just be amazing, but as it is, life is hardly worth living if you're not happy with who you are. I can't see myself idolising women, and I've always preferred male characters (a prime example is my strong wish to be Peter Pan since I was seven years old and first saw the Disney film, or wanting to be Red Ranger instead of Pink or Yellow).

Still, I've got to wait a few years to re-explain myself, and then I need a psychiatrist just in case I haven't been sure of my identity since I was 15 and then two years living as my preferred self before I'm permitted surgery. So... early 20's. It's a long time stamp, but it will be so very worth it.