There was a time when I was adamant that I was a shaman. Absolutely positive. Nothing would dissuade me. I mean, I could pychopomp and communicate with nature and the spirits were always willing to help me. It was my natural destiny, something in my blood. After all, all the women in my line dating back to my mysterious greatgreatgreat so many greats grandmother were blessed with supernatural powers. How could I not be a shaman? How could anyone deny me what I was born to be?
It took a few years for me to realize that just because you want to be something, doesn’t mean you will ever be that.
I remember I went to legitimate shaman places, and I was SO PROUD of who I was. SO PROUD. I mean, IT WAS IN MY BLOOD. HOW COULD I BE ANYTHING ELSE?
Ultimately, it was something I WANTED so bad, but I was not truly that. I was not a shaman. I was a sham. And it did take a few years to understand.
For me, being otherkin is something I tried to deny many times. I’ve torn it all the way down to the basics. I’ve gone to therapy. I’ve spoken to many many people, from my parents, to my friends, to loved ones. I’ve examined it, I’ve denied it, I’ve gone all the way to the point of trying to destroy that part of me. I have literally attempted to destroy every part of me that was ‘dragon.’
And unlike the shamanism…everytime I’ve gone all the way down to the bare bones of my self-identity, and dragon is what I am. It is not because of my race. It is not because of my gender. It is not because of how I was raised or who I interacted with. It is not because of spiritual experiences or because of psychiatric episodes. It is not because of mental abuse or because of a broken mind. It is not because of religious choices or because I just feel like being that creature. It is not because my parents and doctor yelled “It’s a lizard!” when I was born (true story). It is not because I feel the need to be different or unique or a special snowflake.
It is because that is what I am. I am dragon. I am constantly evolving, changing, rearranging the inner image of myself, but the only word that has ever been found to describe myself, is dragon.
I don’t mind being trolled. I don’t mind being called crazy. Because I know where I’ve been. I know I have gone to the basics, both by myself many many times, and with the help of licensed psychiatrists. The last time I saw a shrink was in college, and she understood and told me then, what I am is what I am. She didn’t feel it was a coping mechanism…she understood that some things cannot be explained and some things are real regardless of whether we want them to be or not. Because if I could have purged myself of being otherkin, I would have. When I felt so completely alone and alien in teh world, I would have given anything I had to get rid of the dragon. and oh how I tried.
But I am dragon…will always be dragon.
But I remember…oh how I remember…what it is to be young and uncertain and so totally certain taht THIS is reality and THIS is how everything in my world should work. I remember not wanting to listen to people trying to give me advice. I remember spouting that I’M A SHAMAN. I”M BORN TO BE A SHAMAN. Being convinced I was from a bloodline destined to be shamans, that I had supernatural powers because it was in my blood. No. Not at all. But I remember it took years to get past my own self-arrogance and my own self-assurance, and see myself for who I was.
So…I read the words of hate on tumblr…from those who are essentially ‘children’ to me, and I remember my early days, and how I felt and how I saw the world. And I hope for them to find wisdom and a way out of their own self-arrogance.