There is a site I spend a lot of time on with the unusual name (and URL) of Yiffer.xyz.
I spend a lot of time there because they have an absolutely massive collection of furry comics available for free.
And yes, I feel a little guilty about that. None of the creators of these comics are getting paid by Yiffer, I am sure, and I am enabling this piracy by hanging out there.
But I need it.
I need it because reading the gay furry smut I find there makes me feel better. And not just better about being gay and a furry, but better about life in general.
Because these comics exist in a place where gay sexuality is not merely accepted but normal. Where mean can express both love and lust for one another in an open and accepting way. Where I can witness men who love one another on all levels, and see the dynamics of male/male relationships, and imagine a world where I might just fit in a lot better than I ever have in the real world.
In that sense they act as my ersatz gay neighborhood. That, and Tapestries. Between the two, I can express so much more of who I really am than in RL.
Which is sad, in a way. I sometimes wonder what would have become of me if I had not had furry text based environments to use to explore my larger than life personality and all the ways in which I needed to express and expand who I am.
Who would I be without Fruvous? I can’t even imagine it. My imagination is so much bigger than mere reality can contain that I had to create a fictional extension of myself just to be myself.
Some of us can only be who we really by wearing a mask.
And by doing so, I found out that I can be a very vibrant, lovable. sexy, adorable, and hilarious person when I am not limited by accidents of birth.
In the Furry world, you can make the person you are on the outside match the person you are on the inside, and that’s a truly magical thing.
Especially for us weirdoes.
And for the record, I do want to be more like Fruvous. I feel like the person I am as Fruvous is in many ways an idealized version of myself and the sort of person I want to be in the real world.
He is so much more open and expressive and confident than I am. Unlike me, he is not afraid to turn his personality power up to 11 and that is a huge part of his appeal. He has no conflict between a desperate need for attention and a terrible fear of being noticed and exposed.
He can turn on the charm and the wit and the warmth and if it works, great, and if it doesn’t, whatever. He can be silly and broad and clown around and have fun in a way I’ve never been able to in life. And he can express all the nurturing and “maternal” instincts I have alway been too bound up in gender stupidity to express.
So being him has been a great help to me…. but it’s also been a great crutch.
Maybe without him, I would be forced to learn to express myself in the real world, and therefore be way more engaged in life and not so damned cloistered.
Maybe without him, I would burn out and fall apart and be even more miserable than before because I felt like there was no hope for me at all.
I doubt I would survive that. There is a reason that I don’t have a history of suicide attempts and maybe being Fruvous is a big part of that.
Because no matter how low I sink, he stays afloat.
And that means a lot to me.
More after the break.
A vacation from being myself
It occurs to me that this is what being Fruvous affords me – a break from being myself.
Which is both good and bad.
Bad, because I need that break because I don’t want to be my real self. I don’t like being me. I don’t want to have to do it.
I’d rather be the person I pretend to be. If I had a choice, I would keep mask and throw away the person wearing it and I would just be Fruvous forever.
Thank God that’s not an option.
And I know how very wrong this disavowal of my true self is. That is a very unhealthy and in many ways unfair way to look at things. I “should” learn to love myself for who I really am, warts and all.
Just add it to the long, long list of things I “should” do but don’t.
And I am working on it in my own way. I have come a long way from hating myself so much that I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror for fear that the wave of hate and rage and utter contempt against the person I saw would consume me.
Yes, it was really that bad. And not that long ago, relatively speaking.
Now, though, I have become quite good at beating back the flames of self-loathing with an internalized litany of all my good points and the genuinely amazing truth of what an extraordinary and unique person I am.
I don’t think I have terminated the painful emotions at the root of the self-hate yet, but I at least have it boxed in into a tiny little corner of my mind.
The good side of being Fruvous is that it has allowed me to explore, expand, express, and elaborate on many aspects of myself that my social anxiety/avoidant personality disorder keep me from exploring in the real world.
I can’t imagine trying to find my way in the RL gay community with my issues, my age, and my weight. I can’t do night clubs – oh boy, loudness AND crowding, two massive triggers for me – and more intimate events would scare the crap out of me.
I would need a native guide. Then maybe I could do it. Someone to whom I could turn when I don’t know what to do because I am socially lost. Someone I can count on to be friendly and nice to me when my demons are telling me everyone hates me and wishes I would go away.
Someone to be my rock of sanity to cling to when I am going crazy.
It would be a tough job. But if I could find someone who could do it, I might just end up wanting to marry that person.
If you’ll be my rock, I’ll be your clown, your songbird, your safe haven, and your dear sweet doting mother, all wrapped up in one package.
And so many more things besides! I can be a lot of things.
But only to the man who can be one solid reliable thing all the time that I can rely on to be there when I need him.
Not sure who would want that job, but I swear I can make the right man so happy.
Resumes are now being accepted.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.