Do sissies dream of electric dicks?

I haven't posted in a while.

Not a blog post, not a tweet, not a single lewd.

Part of this is due to a lengthy journey of introspection, as I decide what I want my sissy future to look like. I'm torn between lots of different directions - part of me wants to try and become as androgynously boyish as possible, part of me wants to become as feminine as possible and eschew all pretense at masculinity, and another part of me doesn't know what the heck it wants. The appeal of the second should be obvious, and it's been my main goal for as long as I've known about transition. But the appeal of the first is the (well documented) result of my journey into sissification. I want to continue passing as a woman, to be sure, but I also want it to be unequivocally obvious to any sexual partner that I have boy parts/body. Like under all my hair, and clothes, and makeup, I hide my secret that I'm actually a boy. I want to be a "trap," if you will. I don't know how to explain why I feel this way, but I think it's strongly tied to my desire to be humiliated, to feel both less than a woman and less than a man. I want to lean into my physiology and really ride the line between both. Oh, and I want to feel gay for liking men, that's very important.

But I've already talked about that before. The truth is that I'm unhappy with my body and weight.

Like, very unhappy.

Due to quarantine and my living situation over the past few months, I've really let go: I stopped working out, and I've been eating a lot of food, and a lot of it unhealthy.

Now, I want to make it crystal clear that I'm not fat-shaming. While larger body types don't usually rev my engine, I don't condemn them - to the contrary, more power to anybody who is comfortable and happy with their bodies, regardless of size. Really, rock it.

What I am saying is that I'm not happy with where my body is at, I liked it better where it was before, and even then it still wasn't my ideal image.

I'm also not saying that I hate myself or my body. While sometimes I do have issues with myself, the responsibility for that falls on depression, self-doubt, and an ever-increasing amount of existential dread. (Have you ever felt that it was a shame to have been born now, instead of centuries later when intergalactic travel is commonplace, only to later think yourself lucky that you existed at all because there's no guarantees humanity won't kill itself before leaving the solar system? Ever-increasing amount of existential dread.)

I'm simply not happy with the way it looks, so I don't want to share it. (Even just cage pics, you're just going to have to trust me that I'm being honest with my tracker -which for the most part I am, it's just sometimes edges are hard to quantify, especially when I lose track because I'm lost in the delicious agony of the denial. I digress.)

So, I've been focusing on fixing this. I've started watching what I eat a bit more closely, restarted my workout routine. I'm also aiming to get a haircut soon; and I recently got my eyebrows done! (The eyebrows helped a lot, actually.)

Hopefully, in the coming weeks I'll be able to return my body to a shape I'm more comfortable with, and I'll be posting selfies more regularly.

Until then, this post shall tide us over.

One last thing. I've wanted to write a couple of posts about where I am with my femboy identity and related topics, but I end up getting lost and not really saying anything. So I've, instead, been writing my scattered thoughts in a note journaling app in the hopes of one day having enough there to write a coherent few paragraphs. Here, have a little taste of the messy ball of yarn that is my head:

 

Anyways, this post has been all over the place and I don't know how to end it, soooooooooooo...see y'all later! (And thanks for reading!)