In my last post, I briefly talked about the deluded conclusion I came to that women are somehow luckier than men. This led to the beginning of my cross dreaming when I was in my teens. There are so many posts online about cross dreaming, the significance of it, whether it’s a fetish or not. All of these postulates can be correct, but my personal account of cross dreaming is probably unique to me, just as others are them.
Puberty was a time when my sexuality began to develop, like many others. Growing to accept my bisexuality was a long, daunting process. When you grow up in a highly conservative community, you learn to hate the idea of possibly having same sex attractions. It’s even more frustrating when those same sex attractions are to men who are all straight. This couldn’t possibly do my already incredibly low self-esteem any good.
So there I was, a teenage boy who’s incredibly frustrated with being unable to approach men, getting harassed for my moderately feminine personality, and struggling to approach women because my confidence is continuously being shot through the floor. Why live in the shitty present when I could just imagine a fantasy world where everything is perfect?
I began building a female persona in my head to find comfort. She wouldn’t be punished for being herself, because she was confident in her capabilities. She wouldn’t be attacked for being attracted to men, it would be encouraged and celebrated. She could express her self, and still be powerful, because women were allowed to be sensitive and strong. She would have the perfect life, friend group, family, career goals, hobbies, relationships. No one would make fun of her because she was powerful and I was not. It was okay that I was doing this, because it was all in my head.
I had created this persona, or alter ego, at a time when I was suffering at home, at school, and I was lonely. My family made it their personal mission to remind me that our household was a hierarchy: as the youngest, I have no power or authority to make my voice heard. I should submit to the will of the parents and older siblings unquestioningly. Expressing myself only lead to an endless parade of critique. If things were unstable in the house (as they consistently were), I was reminded that it was somehow my fault.
School was no different. The “masculine” boys of our grade made it their purpose in life to punish those who didn’t conform to stereotypes. You MUST like sports, objectifying women, physical violence, and insulting each others family members for fun. The brainwashed girls played into this as well. Cutting down boys who didn’t conform to gender stereotypes while simultaneously idolizing those who did. The more toxic masculinity you displayed, the more you were rewarded. An unspoken hierarchy was established, and you either subscribed to it or were cast as an outsider.
These hierarchies did their job–they succeeded in solidifying my feelings of powerlessness.
I began taking power back the older I got. It was my turn to return the favor to those who made my life a living hell. Once I hit high school, I had no remorse for feelings. I began adopting trinkets of the female persona into my own personality. The aggressive attitude, the loudness, the lack of sympathy. My thirst was for power. Having no friends didn’t matter to me at this point because I knew what that felt like. As long as I had two or three people to associate with, that’s all I needed.
Being hateful consumed me. Making others feel small and insecure made me feel good. The idea of being superior to others was cemented in my brain. Telling myself this provided comfort, because the alternative was to admit that I don’t have power. The alternative was to admit that I had no true friendships because I was difficult. I was so used to feeling inadequate and wrong, I wasn’t ready to stop taking power back.
Eventually I found friendships that challenged me. Weak friendships were easy for me, I dominated and the others followed until they were sick of it, and slowly slipped away. Strong friendships were much different. The tactics I used to manipulate the power into my hands wouldn’t work…but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the people that I was around. This was the first time the persona began to crack. Being imperfect me was okay around these friends I made. The power balance forced me to respect others boundaries and make it less about myself.
I personally started challenging this alter ego, thinking things like “why can’t I do the things that this ego does? What’s holding me back from being confident in myself?” This is when I began to admit that I am more concerned with how others perceived me then I’d be willing to acknowledge. Because I had been taught repeatedly for years that who I am will never be good enough, it was much easier to live in my head as someone I clearly am not.
College was a whole new ball game with the same team. Loneliness came back, and thus did my need for power. Without any friendships to control, I was reminded of my feelings of powerlessness. Those strong friendships from high school were distanced after everyone became involved with their own personal lives. I spent the better part of college burying myself in my studies as my outlet for demonstrating power. Getting good grades was my way of establishing a sense of control over something. It was easy for me to tell myself the narrative “you don’t need friendships, you are too good to trust people who don’t deserve it.” At this point, no one “deserved” my trust, as if it was some prized possession to be sought after.
This persona came back, but mainly during times where I felt powerless. Remember how my teen years and my entire upbringing drilled the hierarchy in to my brain? It only makes sense that I internalized the idea that I myself am not worthy of power. But this female ego somehow was. I needed to be like her to have the power. Everything in my life became centered around fear and power. Being told that I was ruthless was a compliment. It gave me chills to know that I was above others.
But with the new friendships I was making, the ego was continuing to crack. It was becoming so painful to remember that I wanted to be loved. Friendships. Relationships. I didn’t care. The thought of making myself vulnerable repulsed me still though. Having control over friendships was the only way I allowed myself to live, and was probably the reason I hadn’t been able to hold a relationship.
My female alter ego came crashing down once I accepted that I was never going to receive the validation that I needed. Maintaining the power dynamic was excruciating and painful when I didn’t have my supply. Narcissists don’t want to admit that they are in fact narcissistic, but when you take a good hard look at yourself, it is so painfully obvious that you’ve been functioning like one for years. Now, I don’t want to label myself as having full-blown NPD, but I personally believe I’ve been dancing along the lines of this spectrum for years now. Needing to distance myself from the person I am seemed a very lucrative option, until it wasn’t.
Now I’m embarking on a new journey. I’m working to rebuild the person I am supposed to be. I’m learning to love myself despite the chains of my upbringing. This is where I truly take the power back. Instead of channeling my energy into controlling what I can’t control, I’m channeling it into something I can control, myself. This emotionally damaging journey taught me that power is not something dependent on physical appearance, it’s dependent on how you play the game with the hands you’re dealt. Power is yours if you accept that it should only be used to control yourself.
Critical Blogging 