A Eunuch's Love Life

The more personally intimate blog of the love life of an androgynous but not sexless eunuch in this post-modern world

Friday, April 11, 2008

Oxytocin

I am enjoying the blissful action of oxytocin, flooding my brain in reaction to the idea that a cute guy could really possibly find me sexually attractive, me as I truly am, without gender restriction or hormones or anything other than beautiful androgyny manifested. The oxytocin flows as long as I entertain the possibility my infatuation could be reciprocal, and the object of my ardour has fanned this with several pieces of enticing supporting evidence (for the theory of reciprocity), but of course flirtation always allows for plausible deniability.. but I continue to imagine the possibility of consummation, and the oxytocin flows...



This may be some survival mechanism at work. The oxytocin flow started after I had another Heath Ledger day (awoke after taking a bottle of sleeping tablets), and, during discussion with girly BoyX, I decided to go off hormones, because I don't like my body shape or function with them, and it kind of lessens my survival mechanisms if I don't care about the body I'm in, and see it deviate away from the form I really like. Oh, and because BoyX indicated he loved the form I had before, without hormones, and if this is true, it creates the possibility than some other boys will likewise find my androgynous form attractive.



So, with the emotional manoevres of BoyX, and a desire to not lose my sense of self by choosing mainstream options over faith in my own integrity, I resolved to go off the hormones. That was three days ago, and so far I'm travelling fine, consciously coasting along with oxytocin, not allowing too close an examination of the theory that BoyX could actually find me attractive. I just need to enjoy this schoolgirl crush and feel okay about my sexual prospects as an androgyne, and get back into the swing of being a unique human being, not a marketing category.



As for the hormones, I gave it a quarter try, but that was all I could stand, watching my body and brain function deteriorate over the last three months. Boobs just feel wrong for me personally. For me, being a eunuch with a wadge is sexier than being an imitation of a woman.



Viva la difference!

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