Musing on my Alterhumanity

Two posts in one day from me. Weird, right? Well, I played I am Dog(s) by SoftAnnaLee. Reading about alterhumanity has been... weird. Not because I don't understand it, because I understand it a little bit too well. Before I get into my own story, I can't recommend I am Dog(s) enough. It's a relatively short play, but it's very poignant and awesome.

Anyways, let's get into it. Since I was in middle school, I have been a catboy.

Er, have known I was a catboy? I'm getting ahead of myself though. A lot of it comes from my early days of roleplaying on sites like ChickenSmoothie and Moshi Monsters. I had a character, Aura, and she was this blur haired anime catgirl that was my self insert, before I started really picking up on all the gendery stuff. She was a constant damsel in distress, and I would often roleplay her in ways that a lot of the shit I'm into now make sense. Anyways.

She was helpless. She was pathetic. She whined and cried and just had to be rescued all the time. And I really liked that feeling. I always had this sort of hollow feeling in my chest when I roleplayed as her in ways that really struck a chord with me but not anxiety or fear, it felt really nice. Like a feeling I'd get from being taken in from a storm and wrapped up in a cozy blanket. I stopped roleplaying her after a while, though. For one, she didn't really fly when I moved from the very kid-oriented Moshi Monsters to ChickenSmoothie, where there was a bit more standards in terms of quality. Two, I just kind of hoped I'd grow out of it.

And then the maladaptive daydreaming hit. I remember it very distinctly, it started in 6th grade. The fantasy always started like this: I was walking down the hallway to my sixth grade classroom, I could hear my steps echoing on the tile floor. I got there, and class was going on as usual. I apologized for being late, when suddenly a portal would open up in the classroom or some sort of spaceship would land on the roof. Either way, these two aliens would come and reveal to me who I really was: A cat hybrid, and I was being taken in... for some pets and cuddles. It sounds kind of harsh, but it was really a comfort fantasy for a long time. I was always drawn to the idea of feeling wanted, that someone would literally travel the stars to find me, and that someone liked taking care of me. Someone liked me enough to want me to be happy, healthy, and absolutely pampered.

These daydreams really only escalated from there, but the catboy thing was a major recurring theme. I imagined a purr starting from inside of my chest as my head lay in someone's lap, their fingers scratching that part right below my cat ears or maybe even at the base of my tail. I imagined being in a cage, but one that was filled with soft blankets and stuffed animals where I just felt safe. The bars of the cage weren't keeping me in, but keeping all of my problems out. Problems at school, in my relationships, at home, it faded. I was owned, but it wasn't... Like That, at least, I can distinguish very well the difference between these two desires. There was someone there to take me away and tell me that I could rest now, that I didn't have to work so hard anymore.

As I've gotten older, I stopped trying to push them down. I'm out of the phase of my life where this daydreaming has helped me, but I still feel connected to this alterhumanity as a fundamental part of me. I feel at home when I imagine myself curled up on a carpet in front of a fireplace, or shopping for cute collars. My ears and tail are apart of me, even if they aren't physically. When I try to explain this to people, I struggle to explain how much it really means to me, that it's beyond just wanting to be cute. I hope this at least makes some sense to someone, but honestly, this is mostly for my own sanity. I just needed to get some feelings out because I've never really talked about this at length before, and I am Dog(s) gave me the inspiration to be honest about it and how much it means to me. It's not something I want to keep hiding as being cringy. It makes me happy, and isn't that all that matters?

P.S I really like being called a good boy. So much. Yes, platonically.

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