A little story about little me
A small biography and explanation about the lifestyle I lead.
Hello everyone!
I've been absent for a while from here, and I know I got a few (very few) followers on here when I was writing my short stories. Apologies to you, sincerely. I never meant to disappear and abandon you all mid-story. The story I wrote was based on myself, in a very far fetched way, and as life happened my situation changed. What I was writing in wishful thinking slowly became reality for me, and I am now living happily in a lifestyle I never thought I'd get to live. I figured that I could tell you all about it, and also get it out of my system. I like to express myself through writing. A fair warning though: while I am part of the furry fandom, what I am about to say has very little to do with it. It has mainly to do with what is most commonly knows as ''DD/lg'' or ''CG/l''. I will explain what that is further down, but if you want to look it up a quick google search will help you along the way.
A fresh start.
I am a transgirl. I've been trans my whole life, although it's not something I figured out until the early years of my teens, and something I didn't pursue until the very late years of my teens. I don't expect people who are not trans to understand what it means to be transgender. It's not something I want actually want people to understand either. Understanding mental health issues requires that you dealt with them yourselves, and I sincerely would never wish that upon anyone. All I can do is try to explain in as simple terms as possible, to help people understand that we live mostly every day in a state of anxious agony. Melodramatic, I know, but hear me out; it's like walking around in shoes that are half a size too small on a daily basis. You know something is wrong, but you can't put your finger on it. Your feet and toes hurt, but you don't know why. You walk around continuously aware of the pain in your feet while people around you seem to be perfectly fine, able to walk and run without any issues. In a way that's exactly how it feels to be transgender. Some of us never understand what is wrong and goes our entire lives miserable, deep in depression and completely out of phase. Some of us figure it out on our own, and some of us needs that tiny little spark of inspiration that can come in any form or shape to ignite the understanding within ourselves. Obviously that isn't a foolproof theory as many transgenders ends up thinking they are simply gay, often flamboyantly so, at least for transwomen. Some transmen ends up living their lives as butch lesbians. Needless to say it's a difficult thing to deal with within your own conscious mind. Feeling like your thoughts, emotions and feelings are all there, but not quite fitting with how you look and act. For me personally, the understanding came when I was around eleven and I ended up seeing a documentary on television about transgender people having surgery. In that very moment I knew that was what I wanted.
For context I feel I should explain a little bit more about my past and my childhood. Despite my good memory, huge parts of my past are big blurs to me. I can't recall a lot of emotions and good moments of my past and I assume it's because there were very few. I was teased a lot, bullied. Throughout my entire school life I was called gay or girly. For a boy in their younger years that's obviously tough to deal with, but even more so when they strike a tiny little bit in your mind that keeps nagging at you that something is wrong. It was always there. I looked at girls my own age and wondered why I couldn't take my eyes off their long hair, their beautiful fragile builds and their cute clothes. For years I convinced myself that I was in love with them all, that I had a crush. I think that I confessed my ''feelings'' to all them at least once and it was never reciprocated. I would chase the girls around, trying to touch and kiss them because I didn't know how else to give outlet for this strange, nagging feeling in the back of my head. But when I saw that documentary it all fell into place. I knew I was trans. I just didn't have the courage to tell my family, which I regret deeply today. Despite knowing what I was, I tried to deny it. I never managed to get along with any of the girls my age because I was jealous and it reflected in my way of acting around them. They all thought I was strange and a bit clingy perhaps, which obviously didn't help me get any of them to be my friend. The result was that I always hung with the guys, even if they teased and bullied me. I tried to desperately deny that what they were saying was true. In hindsight I can laugh at the irony of how right they all were. Despite how I felt and how much I hated both school and my life itself, I got through my first nine years of school. Then it started going downhill once I started the Swedish version of college. I chose my school, what I wanted to major in and that was it. The first out of the three years went by as it should. I was miserable every day, but I at least gathered the courage to slowly be who I wanted to be. There were specifically two people in my class I have to thank for that, as they allowed me to express myself and my interests through them. One of them was a gay boy that I ended up dating for a little while. He showed me that it's okay to show my sexuality openly, in public, and even though there were nasty comments it was nothing I hadn't heard before. Finally one part of my was free. I told my parents about me being bisexual and they both took it well. Things were starting to look up. But only for a short while. The other person, who remains a close friend of mine, was expressing themselves not through sexuality, but through gender. They claimed to be transsexual and we quickly found a common ground which bound us together as best friends. She would at the time wear silly feminine articles of clothing or accessories and showed me that it was fine to be yourself because people generally wouldn't care. I hid in her shadow for quite a while, keeping a few steps behind so that she was always the center of attention when we were outside. It worked for a while as it allowed me to feel myself in public, even if just by a margin of the truth. But while it helped me figure out myself, it also made me far more depressed and miserable because the reality of what I am struck me harder and harder every day. When I turned eighteen I finally got the ability to control my own money and to call myself in sick to school. I barely showed up for the second half of the second year. In that time I threw all my money at stupid things. I had no self-control and I didn't care. I went completely out of control. I seeked help and got medication that entirely shut me down emotionally, even to a point that when I first met someone to help me deal with the gender issues, they considered me unstable and wouldn't help me. It took years, until I was twenty three, before I finally got myself a doctor who was willing to diagnose me as transgender and prescribe me hormones. At the time that was the happiest day of my life. Saying that getting hormones fixed everything would be a lie. When you get your hormones the real fight begins. I could no longer hide in ambiguous clothes, pretend I was a girly boy and get by when I went out to by my occasional pizza or soda. Suddenly I actually had to start living as a woman full time, and that was scary. Really scary. The hormones needed time to change features of my appearance that I hated, but I still had to go out feeling like some kind of masculine she-monster in public. Everyone who looked my way caused a spark of anxiety in me. Laughter around me made me wary. I was scared. It took roughly six months before I threw out all my boy clothes with the emotional help of my mother. That's when my life properly started, when I was twenty-four and a half years old. My experiences and mental state of health had left me emotionally fragile though. I needed a way to deal with that. A few years earlier I met a girl online. She was also a transgirl, and much further along than me. In a lot of aspects she had it worse than I did, with parents who weren't accepting, barely any food on the table and possibly an abusive boyfriend. Yet, I looked up to her. She powered through her transition despite everything going against her. But she had help. She had found a way to recharge and let go of the worries that haunted her, and she did so by entering ''little space''. What's that, you might ask. I'll tell you. Within BDSM there is a concept of headspaces. I say concept, but I've experienced them first hand and can confirm just how real they are. A headspace is a space within your conscious mind you enter in which you can forget everything else and just focus on one thing, take on just one simple part of your personality. In BDSM the most commonly used and entered headspace would be ''sub space'', also known as ''submissive space''. This is a headspace you enter during a session of BDSM where you abandon all control to your partner and allow them to do the worrying. You only exist in the here and now and your only purpose is to please and be pleased. ''Little space'' is also a space within your mind that you enter, but it's far from a sexual thing for most. ''Little space'' is tightly connected to age regression. That girl that I mentioned earlier would go into this headspace and just let go of everything adult in her life. She would use pacifiers, her emotions were always on edge like a toddler's and her best friend was her stuffed panda. I always felt a strange connection, and sense of jealousy, towards that girl. Whenever she referred to her boyfriend as ''daddy'' I knew I wanted to do that too. But it took years before I even attempted to do so. In fact, I began experimenting with this as I was dating an American guy over long-distance during the
first six months of my hormone treatment. I wanted to call him daddy and I just wanted to let go of my worries and anxieties and leave them with him. I wanted to just feel safe and secure while I was in a call with him. He, however, did sadly not bite and we soon ended up breaking up. My needs were too much for him. Even though I dated more people like him afterwards, I still kept try to be true to myself and allow myself to escape the worries of my everyday life. I thought that was all I was doing, but it felt so good. It felt as if I belonged in that headspace all the time. In a way it almost felt like I found the missing jigsaw piece to the puzzle of my life. Age regression seemed to be the answer to most of my emotional issues. The problem was that I still didn't have someone to shoulder it with me. During that turbulent year I'd gone through several relationships, all ending in disaster because I was discovering myself still. I became someone those guys couldn't handle. As this was going on I had one friend online that I always turned to. She was always there to listen when I needed a shoulder to cry on, and she always seemed sympathetic. What I didn't realize was that she actually had a crush on me. She told me this as I was in my fourth relationship of the year and was complaining yet again about the lack of dedication on my partner's behalf. She told me that she'd been in love with me for quite some time and she wouldn't mind trying to be my mommy. She promised to put in the effort the others hadn't. Desperately I jumped on it. I was definitely interested in her, but her promises to be my mommy was definitely what pushed me over the edge. I broke up with the other guy and began dating this girl. This was mid-November last year. We're still together and I've never been happier. I rarely call her by name. as I instead call her ''mommy''. She also rarely call me by name and tend to come up with the cutest, and stupidest, nicknames I've ever heard. She is there for me when I am crying because I am tired and she is there for me when I emotionally break down for no reason. She is there for me when I barely feel capable of speaking because I've regressed to far at that moment and she is there for me when I just want to sit and cuddle her with my big polar bear in tow and my pacifier in my mouth. She is truly the salvation in my life, and I hope someone I will never lose. Age regressors like me tend to call ourselves ''littles''. We're a ''little''. Each little has their own age and their own preferences when they enter their headspace. Some live in this headspace 24/7 and publically. Some just do it on occasion or as an escape. Personally I do it whenever it happens. I don't have that much control over it, but it rarely happens when mommy is not present in some form. Just hearing her refer to me by one of her many nicknames for me can instantly put me into my headspace. I've been told I seem much happier and expressive when I am in my younger state of mind. In a way this is much like being trans. We deal with the same scrutiny and discrimination trans people do. In a lack of understanding people demonize the community. People think that littles are only people with father/mother issues. Some think it's an incestious thing. It's neither. It's about feeling safe. It's about creating a safe space in which we can let go and just let ourselves be ourselves. Exactly why we call our partners mommy/daddy I can't explain. To me it just feels right, the way it should be. We aren't any less people than those outside the community are, we just live our lives differently to keep our own mind safe. If you ever end up meeting one of us, please remember that we like the same things you do and think much like you do. Remember that we also tend to be far more emotionally fragile than most people are, and a comment that can be meant as neutral can have a very bad effect on our emotional and mental state. Also remember that once you get to know us, and accept us for who we are, you'll have a lifelong friend who cares and stays loyal through thick and thin.
Well that's it. If you read through this I thank you. It was mostly just a way for me to express myself and get stuff out of my head I've been thinking about for a while. Please avoid any unnecessary bad comments. If you have any further questions I'd gladly answer, both ''little'' and ''trans'' related. I will probably start up a new story soon, probably a bit more accurately depicting the life of a little. If you'd like to read such a story, let me know! Thank you all for reading.