Profile

obligatorycoffee: (Default)
obligatorycoffee

December 2024

S M T W T F S
1234567
8910 11121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Custom Text

Most Popular Tags

Been thinking a bit about my relationship to the term theriomythic (an individual who identifies as a non-earthly creature of a feral or non-sentient nature), which I've been using for a number of years now.

I'm certainly sentient, so that part doesn't really apply, but do I count as feral? I'm animalistic by many measures: strong prey drive, I certainly wouldn't wear clothes or much adornment as a dragon, and given the chance, I would 100% snarf a sandwich straight out of your hands. However, I'm also an intelligent beastie and have the ability to read, write, reason, and plan ahead.

If you're familiar, Rin from pocketss' comics is a good analog for my behavior.

I think I just let my instincts get the better of me on occasion, and enjoy it in the moment. Does that count as feral or just mischievous? Am I an animal or just a little shit? Hm.

The term theriomythic can cover a lot of different identities, I think, given there's a prominent "or" in the definition. I'm not full-on animalistic but I'm definitely not a derg who cooks its food or probably participates much in any sort of society (but is that just a me thing or a byproduct of whatever dragon species I am?), so I feel like theriomythic probably still applies? Anyway, still going to keep using it unless I convince myself otherwise *shrug*
Originally posted: August 28, 2017

Over the years, I’ve heard many an argument that otherkin, therians, and fictionkin are just overly fond of a particular animal, mythical creature, or fictional character. Sure, some non-humans are certainly very fond of their kin/therio/fictotypes, but that’s not the point. Liking a particular creature does not equate to otherkinity…in fact, it more closely aligns with other-heartedness than otherkinity.

To hopefully clear up some confusion, I’ll briefly detail why, despite my great love for house cats, I am not a cat therian.

In kindergarten, around the time I first began experiencing the first hints of otherkinity, I also discovered my fondness for house cats. I don’t know where the feeling came from, but I realized very quickly that I wanted a kitten. My mother was allergic to pets, and I realized this, but I kept asking and asking and asking for a pet cat. Finally, after months of me begging, my mother happened across a stray kitten near her office, and decided we could keep the cat for one week, and if she didn’t have an allergy attack, we’d keep it. Miraculously, my mom didn’t have an allergy attack, and we adopted the cat as our pet.

I loved this cat. She was a shorthair tuxedo cat, and despite only being 60% or so black, I named her Blacky. She was a grumpy old lady from the start, but my love for her was boundless. I brushed her, played with her, followed her around, dressed her up, and generally annoyed her. Being six years old, I copied her behaviors and pretended I was a cat too, and I occasionally even demanded that my parents fill bowls with dry cereal and put them on the floor for me so I could eat next to Blacky and get the full cat experience. I was completely obsessed. I had cat themed everything. I even went to a showing of the musical Cats, dressed up as Blacky.

As I got older, my obsession let up a little, but I was and still am in love with house cats, even though I’ve been bitten and scratched many times, and I’ve come to realize cats are really quite a destructive species, especially when it comes to birds (please keep your cats indoors, folks!). My partner is obsessed with cats the same way I am, so whenever my partner and I see cute pictures of cats, we act like complete idiots, because if there’s anything that makes me want to punch myself it’s so cute, it’s definitely a picture of a tiny fuzzy kitten. Anyway, to this day, whenever I see a friendly cat on the sidewalk, I take the time to greet it and pet it, and will sometimes even sit down with it for a few minutes, simply because I enjoy being around cats. I like and appreciate dogs, but I'm really not that interested in seeking out their attention. I might give a passing dog a hand to sniff or a nice pat, but my interest in being spending time with it really isn’t the same.

So, if I’m so obsessed with cats, why am I not a cat therian? The answer is simple: because I do not identify as a cat. I love them. I want to be around them. I want to adopt them and give them a good home. I’ve even had cameo shifts of cat ears and cat claws. But I do not feel I should be a cat on any level.

Let’s look at this from another point of view: why I identify as a dragon, even though I haven’t spent the last four paragraphs ranting about how much I love them. Since I was young, I’ve felt drawn to dragon characters and images, and I always found drawing dragons exciting and fun. I have some personal belongings with dragons on them, and I have a number of books featuring dragon characters. However, I am very, very tired of dragons. They’re absolutely everywhere. In books, in TV shows, in computer and video games…even in boardgames! Dragon art is posted so frequently online, that it’s hard to get away. But I can’t get away, because I’ve felt I should be a dragon for almost 20 years. I’m not particularly distressed that I identify as something that’s so commonly portrayed, but yet another dragon end-boss in the newest RPG or another drawing of a “cute” baby dragon generates very little excitement in my brain. Focus on mermaids for awhile or something, please.

Despite my apathy, I experience phantom and mental shifts as a dragon, I’ve picked up mannerisms I believe are draconic, and I feel very comfortable imagining myself with a dragon body. I’ve been waiting for years for a dragon VR simulator to come out so I can finally fly around (virtually) like I feel I should be able to. I can imagine myself as a cat, but there’s a certain alienness to attempting to feel like a cat that I don’t feel when I imagine myself as a dragon. It feels completely wrong, and despite having watched the way cats move and act for almost 20 years, I don’t quite understand how it should feel to be a cat. Granted, I can’t really know what a dragon moves or acts like because they don’t exist, but somehow what I experience as dragonkin is definitely dragon, and it definitely feels right. Dragon is me, I am dragon, end of story.
Originally posted: April 28, 2015

So, what’s it like being a dragon? I could write novels upon novels about this, but I’ll save you the time and try to keep it short.

The classic image of a western/European dragon is one of evil, fire, rage, and greed; of kidnapping princesses and hoarding treasure. The classic western dragon burns down villages and slays heroic knights as a hobby. It is cold-blooded, vile, and destructive. But draconity is not about that. In fact, it’s not about any of those things.

When I feel the most draconic, I don’t want to burn down villages, steal treasure, or kidnap anyone. I don’t feel the need to challenge knights in shining armor, nor do I feel the need to eat little children. I like gold and gems, sure, but my affinity for precious metals, gems, and knick-knacks is likely not even a draconic trait, and it baffles me why so many newly awakened dragons feel the need to start hoarding every shiny thing they see. I thoroughly enjoy collecting rocks on the beach, going to gem shows, and buying tiny animal figurines, but I don’t have a giant hoard, nor do I sit atop it and challenge anyone who comes near it. No, draconity is not about that.

Dragons are often shown as powerful creatures in the books, games, and movies. Nearly every fantasy game end-boss I can think of is some sort of massive dragon-like creature. I don’t doubt that many dragonkin would like to see themselves as powerful or not-to-be-trifled-with (myself included). Yet, even though I’ve longed to be a dragon for almost two decades, I do not want to proclaim from the rooftops that I’m a dragon and that all should bow before me (in fact, I’d prefer those around me not know about my draconity at all). I do not want slaves to wait on me hand and foot, nor do I want to be the supreme ruler of anything. No, draconity is not about that.

What IS draconity about, then? Draconity is an animal inside that cannot get out, a longing for a place I’ve never been, and the need to do things I cannot do. Draconity is confusing, frustrating, and isolating. Draconity is waking up in the morning in a body that doesn’t fit right and doesn’t move like it should; a body that is missing parts and is misshapen and uncomfortable. Draconity is lonely because to tell someone you are a dragon is to get laughed at and whispered about. Draconity is agony when nothing helps calm the animal inside screaming to get out.

Draconity isn’t cute or fluffy, despite what social media has to say about it, but it’s not all bad. Over the years, I’ve come to realize my draconity has enriched my life immensely. I lean much more to the scientific side of things (versus a more spiritual mindset), but exploring my draconity and reading what others have to say on the subject has made me understand how others see their draconity/otherkinity/therianthropy (as well as other aspects of their lives) as a spiritual thing. I think it has also made me more empathetic in regard to things that are not accepted as social norms, because feeling the need to be a dragon is in no way socially normal.

Exploring my draconity means exploring my mind and analyzing what I find, and as a result, I’ve discovered a lot about myself unrelated to my draconity, including the discovery that I’m intensely introverted, that I do not fit within the gender binary, and that I always need to be doing something productive to feel like I’m spending my time well. I’m a naturally artistic person, and I love to create, but I’m not typically very motivated to do so. My draconity has given me something I care enough about to clear my mental cobwebs and create things based off of my experiences. My draconity has pushed me to explore activities I likely wouldn’t have become interested in otherwise, like learning about animal anatomy, teaching myself how to cook a decent steak (still no luck there…), and napping on the floor in the sun (probably the best thing ever). I experience my draconity from a more animalistic standpoint (less "dragons as beings of magic and power" and more "dragons as just another animal”), and I think this view has pushed me to learn more about animal behavior than I would have otherwise. I’m sure it has affected far more aspects of my life that I haven’t discovered yet. Overall, it has helped construct who I am as a person, and despite the downsides, I don’t think I would give up my draconity if I ever had the chance.

Theriomythic

Mar. 4th, 2020 01:14 pm
obligatorycoffee: (Default)
Originally posted: April 3, 2018

I wish theriomythic was a more popular term. I find it to be particularly useful because it bridges the therian and otherkin communities, while emphasizing that there are clearly differences between the communities, and allowing otherkin who don't really identify with the frequently metaphysical and fantastical otherkin musings to explore a more animalistic side of their identity.

I think one of the reasons I like it so much is because the term really resonates with my experience as non-human. I entered the online alterhuman community by way of personal therian websites, and I spent a few years reading primarily therian essays before moving on to draconic or general otherkin sites, and my time reading therian materials heavily influenced my views on my identity. Because of this, I feel far more at home in therian circles than I do in strictly otherkin circles, even more so if there are psychological therians present. I think one of the things that turns me off from draconic and general otherkin discussion is that so much of it is focused on past lives and world-building, and less focus is on feelings and experiences in this life as a non-human in a human body. I forget who, but someone recently put remembering past lives as a therian as "not particularly interesting", considering few groundbreaking and earth shattering things happen in the day-to-day life of a squirrel, hawk, or sea-slug, and I think as a result, even with spiritual therians, there's less focus on what was and more on what is. Considering I'm of the belief that my identity is psychologically based, hearing endless talk about past lives and soul swaps doesn't do much to get me excited, while hearing accounts of how therianthropy or otherkinity affects life as a human piques my interest far more.

There's so much crossover between communities now that therianthropy and otherkinity have started to go mainstream (certainly there's always been crossover between communities, and indeed that's where the term theriomythic originated, but this amount of crossover is far greater), and I think the communities are shifting to a more otherkin-esque outlook on identity, complete with a heavy emphasis on past life memories and magic. This is fine, but I feel this takes away a bit from the psychological members of the community and those who don't have past life memories, either because they don't remember, or that they simply weren't worth remembering.

Perhaps I'm giving theriomythic too heavy a meaning, maybe because I'm nostalgic for the days I was just discovering the therian community and reading the then earth shattering revelations and experiences written down for me by older therians, but I think it's really worth bringing it back. It hearkens to a time when interaction within the communities happened primarily on forums and was more about substance and community than aesthetic. For me, theriomythic is a term and a feeling. It cries "my species may not exist, but I too am an animal and I can bear my teeth with the best of them". It brings down the mighty dragon to a lowly beast as ordinary as a field mouse. It says "I am an animal, and no manner of myth or story-telling can change that". I am a theriomythic, an animal as ordinary as the next, except for the fact that my kind doesn't exist.

Respectability

Mar. 4th, 2020 01:10 pm
obligatorycoffee: (Default)
Originally posted: July 19th, 2019

Pretending that everyone in the ‘kin community is perfectly normal and that their non-humanity is only something on the side that doesn’t affect them is one, a lie, and two, really toxic to those in the community who don’t fit the bill of a “normal person”, whatever that may mean. It’s stifling, and it’s a shame that it’s cringy to howl in the forest at night, to wear gear, and to acknowledge cravings or urges that aren’t remotely within the realm of human normal. It’s extremely unfair that we should feel the need to sugarcoat the less normal parts of 'kinity, both within the community and to curious or ridiculing outsiders. Yet, I know I’m blatantly, embarrassingly guilty of this. At any rate, talking respectability politics has reminded me that it’s alright for me to enjoy my non-humanity. It’s so freeing and even empowering to feel okay doing things that make me feel less human.

Ah, but a word of caution. Don’t confuse the push for the freedom to do these things if they make you happy and comfortable with needing to do these things to fit in with the otherkin community. Maybe this point is obvious to everyone else, but if I were to go back ten years ago and go through my intro to the community again, I for one would really balk at the idea of joining the otherkin community or exploring my identity if I thought everyone had to wear gear, mod their bodies to look more like their 'types, or be public with their identities to be accepted as a member of the community.

To be completely honest, I probably jumped at emphasizing this because I’m extremely conservative about even hinting at my identity to anyone. I’m happy to walk the human walk and talk the human talk at work/school/with friends and crouch on the floor and snarf down half a rotisserie chicken while I’m home alone. But, everyone’s unique and has different levels of comfort with and ways to express their identities. If you’re not comfortable or able to compartmentalize your identity, don’t! Express your non-humanity how you see fit! You can still live in human society and follow your dreams while being public with your identity. Yet, if keeping your identity completely private is the only thing you’re comfortable with, don’t feel like you need to show it to others, whether they’re 'kin or not.

Don’t let anyone tell you how to experience your 'kinity. Be silly with it, be serious with it, express it, don’t…do whatever makes you comfortable, whether you’re new to the community or an elder greymuzzle or old fruit. That being said, don’t feel like you can tell others how to express their identity either, especially if they’re not hurting anyone. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to find a home in the otherkin community. Be yourself, whether that’s appearing human or not.
Originally posted: August 24, 2017

*Adapted from Psychological Otherkin ≠ Copinglink

From what I’ve seen in my time in the otherkin community, a majority of otherkin identify as some variation of spiritual otherkin, which is all good and spiffy, but I get the feeling psychological otherkin are left out of the conversation a bit more than we’d like, and there seems to be a decent bit of confusion over what psychological otherkin are. So, as a psychological otherkin myself, I’d like to put psychological otherkin in the spotlight.

First of all, I think it’s important to point out that psychological otherkin is not another term for copinglink. A copinglink is an identity consciously chosen as a coping mechanism for mental illness, trauma, or other stressor. Psychological otherkinity is simply a hypothesis as to why one identifies as non-human, and, just like spiritual otherkinity, is not a consciously chosen identity. Some folks attribute their otherkinity to abnormal brain wiring, the unconscious result of mental illness, imprinting on a non-human at a young age, or other psychological cause. Do we necessarily know our hypotheses are correct? Not really, since it’s hard to prove any of these hypotheses without solid scientific research, but otherkin science may be a long time off still, so I’m personally happy to say “eh, I probably just have a weird brain”, and be done with it until we have more opportunities to learn about ourselves.

I’d also like to point out that psychological otherkin ≠ mental illness, as the two are not mutually inclusive. One can be a psychological otherkin and not be mentally ill.

Anyway, I certainly can’t speak for everyone, but as a psychological otherkin, I experience my otherkinity just as any spiritual otherkin does, but with a different explanation as to why I identify the way I do. My identity isn’t and never was voluntary, nor did it manifest as a way to cope with mental illness or uncomfortable situations. I experience phantom and mental shifts, I have a mental image of what I should look like, and I have habits and preferences I attribute to my draconity. Why do I identify as psychological instead of spiritual, if our experiences are similar? Well, for one, I’m not particularly spiritual or religious and I experience a few brain-weirds that don’t fall under mental illness including a couple kinds of synesthesia and mild misophonia, so I don’t think going a step further and saying my draconity is a part of these brain-weirds is too farfetched.

Really, the only notable difference I’ve seen between myself and how many spiritual otherkin experience their otherkinity is the absence of past life memories. Because I believe my draconity stems from a psychological cause, and not reincarnation or a misplaced soul, I don’t have any past life memories, nor do I feel like I was non-human in another lifetime. I’m just me, here and now, with a strong desire to be something I’m not.

Native Species

Mar. 4th, 2020 12:55 pm
obligatorycoffee: (Default)
Originally posted: June 4, 2018

I was walking alone in the woods yesterday after a morning of bird surveys and I started to muse about the fact that although I've always felt quite comfortable in nature, that as a dragon, I feel completely out of place walking through the forest or stomping around in the fields. Honestly, I think one of the biggest recurring stumbling blocks I’ve experienced with my identity is the fact that as a biologist, I’ve never been able to imagine myself as a dragon in a natural setting, without feeling entirely out of place.

Is a dragon not just another animal? Then why should it feel so alien to be in a natural setting? I think in the back of my mind, I’ve always subconsciously used this as an excuse to laugh off and discount my identity. Even the massive elephants and vibrant birds somehow look natural in their native habitats. So how come I don’t?

It finally, after years of feeling this way, dawned on me why I don’t feel right in nature in a form that to me should feel more animalistic and natural: I’m looking in the wrong place. Dense forest is no place for a dragon of my build. I should be above the treeline in higher altitudes, not bumming around in the lowlands. My natural habitat is on dark craggy cliffs without twigs and tall grass to get my wings caught on.

Will I ever be able to find the perfect house on the perfect mountain, where I can explore and hike and finally feel natural, while still being close enough to civilization to live comfortably in my human moments? Probably not. But maybe I can find a field job somewhere or vacation to a place where I can finally be home for a little while.
Originally posted: November 28, 2018

Even though I’ve identified as draconic for over two decades now, I still have the occasional moment where I seriously doubt my identity. My memory is generally quite good, but I remember how my identity manifested after I discovered the alterhuman community a lot better than I can remember how I felt before that point, and I occasionally get to worrying that I just had an affinity for dragons as a kid and forced an identity on myself once I discovered what otherkin and therians were.

I had the chance to go through some of my childhood belongings recently and I can’t tell you how amazing it felt to see all the drawings I did of myself as a dragon. I generally don’t worry about my identity that much as far as gender and sexuality go, so I try to tell myself my species identity isn’t that big of a deal either. Still, I’ve definitely found myself worrying about my species identity over the years and it’s so incredibly soothing to know what I’m feeling has been with me all along. It was never just a phase, and for me at least, it never really came in waves either…it was always in the background of my life, affecting how I thought, and what kind of art I made, what I bought, etc. It was there, for sure, and even if I can’t remember how I felt everyday of my childhood, seeing this stuff shows me I definitely identified as nonhuman since I was a child.

For those of you doubting, don’t worry. Even if you are doubting your identity, it means you’re thinking about it, and that’s something not everyone can say they do. If you end up being wrong, that’s fine! At least you took the time to explore yourself, and hopefully you learned a little about yourself along the way. For those of you who ultimately are alterhuman, I hope you find a moment of peace with your identity like I have, whether its finding you were alterhuman all along, confirming your kintype after so many years of searching, or whatever else it may be.

In Between

Mar. 4th, 2020 12:26 pm
obligatorycoffee: (Default)
Originally posted: May 30, 2019

*Adapted from this Tumblr post

This is something I’ve felt for years but never had the presence of mind to put into words, until now. I've identified as as draconic for the past 20 years or so, but I've also been painfully aware that what I'm feeling is filtered through my upbringing as a human. I also realize we don't actually know what draconic behavior is, since dragons aren't exactly living here on earth. However, based on media portrayal and generally just what feels right, I have what I think are draconic traits, but they vary in strength at any given time, and what I feel is acceptable draconic behavior is most certainly viewed through a human lens. Not only that, but there are a good number of things I feel a dragon would naturally do that I highly doubt I could stomach here as a human. I may have urges to do "draconic" things, but with my human body and human senses, I don't think I could handle living solely like a dragon would, even if it were somehow physically and socially possible to do so.

Also, even though I feel urges to do non-human things, I can’t keep them up for long before I revert back to generally human behavior. Is it because these things are hard enough to do for a human that my discomfort overrides my non-human behavior, or is it because I got whatever it was out of my system and my human self has taken back over? I have no idea. Regardless, it makes me feel far more lazy and human than I’m comfortable with.

I’ve often lamented to myself that if I were ever to hang out with a group of actual dragons, that I’d be out of place because I’ve been raised as a human and likely wouldn’t know the habits or customs of an actual dragon. But, I feel out of place as a human too. I've masqueraded successfully as a human for my entire life, but that doesn't make human customs, rationality, and behavior any less foreign to me. I feel like I’m sitting uncomfortably between worlds, without a way to fully reach one or the other. I doubt this will change. I'm obviously not going to be able to find a dragon to adopt me and teach me their ways, nor can I simply drop my non-humanity. It's an integral part of me, and identities cannot be dropped at will.