Thursday, October 15, 2015

Anorexic? Nah, Just Gender Dysphoria!

For many, many years Jules told me that she was worried because I appeared to be anorexic to her.  Why?  Well because no matter how much weight I have lost I have never been satisfied and have always told her that maybe I would be happier if I lost a bit more.  This has worried her and minding her concerns I have always tempered my weight loss desires.

But it has always made me ponder, what exactly is wrong with me?  Why am I never really happy with my body?  When I was 30 years old and I finally weighed myself with a scale at a local pool, and discovered that I was about 40-50 pounds over the weight I had been in college, I thought I understood why I wasn't happy with my body.

I began exercising and dieting and eventually I lost the weight.  But when I actually reached my goal weight and I was still not happy with my body, I honestly became more than a bit worried.  What if Jules was right?  What if I truly was anorexic?  What would that mean to me going forward with my life?  Would I end up being one of those folks I have read about who starve themselves and slowly wither away to the intense detriment of themselves, seemingly unable to do anything about it?


Seriously.  As the years rolled by and my feelings about my body never seemed to change, no matter how much I dieted, no matter how many sit-ups I did, no matter how much I swam, the one constant remained.  Whenever Jules stated how hot and sexy my body was, I would always tell her that she was wrong and my body was anything but hot and sexy.

For ten years or so I maintained my weight at about 150lbs.  I am 5'9".  In male clothes, I wear a size 30 waist pant.  In female clothes, I can fit in skirts that range from a size 4 - 6.  And yet, I have never been satisfied.  I have never felt good about my body.  I have never thought the way Jules has about me.

And then, just quite recently, I finally began to understand what is wrong with me.  I don't want a male body.  It is as simple as that.  I don't like the looks of my body, because I keep expecting to be able to look into the mirror and see the body of a woman.


Well I suppose that at least now I know it is not anorexia.

Good for me!

At least Jules can admire my body!

Good that someone can admire my hard work!

I do appreciate it, I just wish I actually liked it.

Love yourself!

Even though it is hard.

Even if it is something that you have to force yourself to learn to do.

I am trying!

I hope you are!



  1. Nadine, what strikes me most about this post is that I think the vast majority cross dressers have inverse body dysmorphia. We see what's not there but in a positive way! I mean what else explains mini-dresses or miniskirts on a 200 pound dude?!? It sure isn't because it looks good. I know you have moved past "cross dresser" but I think the dichotomy of men and women in this way is striking none-the-less.

    1. OMG, you are hilarious! That has SO got to be the case though. There are a vast number of CDs that do love to wear the skimpiest of outfits when something a bit fuller would look vastly better given their size. Was that PC enough?

      Too funny!

    2. I am trying to work out what "inverse body dysmorphia" means if BD means an OCD-style preoccupation with a perceived (and possibly imagined) defect in appearance. Is IVD then a blindness to a real defect in appearance? Like a portly middle aged man in a dress seeing Taylor Swift reflected in the mirror.
      I imagine though that most non-exhibitionist CDs are acutely self critical of the gap between desire and reality, and suffer from body dysmorphia to some extent.
      There is definitely an aspect of self punishment to some of this, to try and get the two conflicting images to align. And with CD it's most often the male body that loses in an effort to appear more feminine, or at least passably androgynous.
      Sometimes we even judge between ourselves. I look at your photos, Nadine, and I see a smiling, confident woman with an enviable complexion and apparent decolletage, who can carry herself well in public. And I look at photos of me and consign 90% of them to the recycle bin in horror and photoshop the hell out of the remaining few that don't actually revolt me.