Thanks, but I lost again

Yeah, I submitted a ton of these. I won't ever again, due to obvious reasons (democracy my ass), but while they're up, why not take a peek and maybe vote? :)

Vote link:
https://www.squishable.com/opensquishp/opensquish_meat_224415/

Am having second thoughts whether if I truly am a "furry" or not.

So, yes. As the title suggests, I'm wondering what I am, really.

I've discussed furries at length here on this blog, before, due to the fact that most people immediately think of "bad" things when they hear the term. I've stated again and again how not every furry is "like that", how, for the most part, we're like you but we just like to focus our fandom on different things. You maybe wanted to pretend you were a superhero when you were a kid, well... we like to pretend we're anthros. And not all of us stopped liking to pretend!

That's it, except that I see now it isn't.

I identify more with animals than humans. Humans are always cruel to me, they don't understand me - as a child, other kids always treated me worse than a "nerd", stoning me, hurting me mentally and physically when all I ever wanted to do was be a part of their world. I wasn't sure how, since I hadn't associated with kids as a child until I was tossed into the school system (and that was a huge part of the problem, I think). But I always go in with the best of intentions and never lose that ... while other people do their best to intentionally hurt me. Uck. Screw that, right? So, staying human while having animal characteristics seems awesome! I have my opposable thumbs, I can drink coffee, speak, etc etc; yet I could not be human at the same time. Anthro, a wonderful word. My "fursona" is a nekomata, which is a demon cat that can change into something of a human. I either draw her as a full cartoon cat with a split tail, or a rubenesque gal with ears and a tail that resembles me when I'm of average weight. I like to wear the ears and tails I have at home, but my fursuit head stifles me and I don't like it that much.

The main thing that disturbs me is that I can't stand seeing all the damned sex furries draw.

Let's not get me wrong, I'm a sexual being. I write erotica often, and have several published books out with shorts (and one full novel) of the ultra-romance nature. But you will not see blatant sex or nudity in my art galleries. You will not see slang words that are offensive to the ears in my writing. I make certain, or at least I try valiantly, to bring a sense of decency in that way to the work I do. I've written smut before, yeah. A lot of it was when I was young (we all make mistakes). I wrote more and got better at expressing what I feel without being tasteless. But what I see in a majority of "furry" art galleries is just that: smut. Porn for smut's sake - and swear words that are better written on the side of a building used to refer to genitalia and whatnot.

Have some freakin' decorum.

It's the stuff that offends people's eyes when they see furries blanging furries over and over and over again on your page in graphic detail. A lot of these artists have talent, clearly, but most folks find this kind of thing offensive. Even other furries. You're giving us a bad name, guys. Hide that stuff from public view, and showcase some other pieces of art now and then, right? Why not? Why does everything have to be graphic sex acts with "you people"? See, that's how others see furries. And it makes me wonder... am I one? I dabbled in drawing some things like that, but I never liked graphic stuff, preferring romance more than slobbery sex acts in my art.

As seen on the left, I prefer having my character (or the one she's with) covered, and not shown in the actual act. Suggestive, not HAY THERE HERE'S SEX SPLAAATTTTT MOOSH THUMP

Said "sex starved" furries seem to be proud of the way they love sex. And I'm not saying sex is a bad thing. Or even that drawing it is a bad thing. Just that if I see 99.9% of furries drawing sexually explicit stuff, I'm going to think all they do/think/breathe/sleep is sex (as most folks think furries do). And there is more to everything than that. There's more to me, at least, I know. And I think a lot of furs would see this as an attack (everyone takes everything personally now) against them. It's not, really, but I'm confused. You're trashing yourselves, and I'm not one of those ... but am I furry then?




TLDR: I think everyone would view furries as a whole better if their galleries weren't 100% squishy porn. I don't know whether I'm a furry or not, because my galleries do not contain fur-porn. Erotica, yes, but I have a lot of regular cartoons, illustrations of fave movie stars, etc., etc.

I think what I may have re-learned is nothing is black and white. I have said before "I am a furry", but now I view things differently. I share some views as furries. But I don't do what I see a lot of them doing, nor do I frequent places they are on the 'net or anything.

I guess after all, I'm really just me. Heh.

Furry FAQ

This is a list of all the stuff I've written about being a furry. I'll constantly be adding to it. 

My fursona is (and has been for more than a decade) a nekomata, which is a split-tailed demon cat from Japanese lore. Not common to many furs, as she is a demon, she can take human form and often does to mess with people (mostly men).

*click for larger image. 

Growing Up Furry
A small essay about how I grew up without the internet and without any support of my furry identity. How families react when they don't understand.

Those Stupid Furfags
Why is "furfag" and furry-bashing acceptable? We're the new "it's okay to mock" lifestyle, and I want to know why, since we're not doing what the public thinks we do.

Am I Really a Furry?
My thoughts about who/what I really am, since I don't slather fur-porn around. Does this mean I'm not a furry?

Growing up Furry

This is the story of a 38 year old woman that is a proud "furry".

"Furry" refers to folks that express themselves by creating anthropomorphic animal character personas with human characteristics.

I was born in 1976 and lived my childhood through the Eighties. That said, you have to understand that the internet, although early message board systems were up in their most basic form, was not available to most people. We just didn't have it back then. You grew up with your neighborhood, your classmates, and your family as the only people to get in touch with and talk to about things.

I remember as early as I began to speak I would bark at people, or growl. When they would lean over me and say, 'What a pretty little girl', my response was 'I'm a dog!' When I was able to walk and play I quickly found that placing a crocheted "snake" my mother made in my pants made a fine tail. I would prance around for hours, pretending to be Scooby Doo at first, then just random creatures as I got older. My family was not supportive of any of this.

I do have family issues in general. For one, as soon as I reached what mom thought was "the right age", I was discouraged to stop "being a baby" and put away all my toys and fantasy dreams. Even as a small child I was scolded for telling people I was a dog because it embarrassed her.

My furry self retreated as a young adult growing into a woman. For one thing, my "playing" days were considered over by all the adults in my life. For the other, I was involved with growing up and boys (along with school and health problems, but that's another story). But I found out that who you are is not to be denied. At around age 16 or so, I started growing very fond of wolves, tigers and foxes. It always seems to start there for furries, and even though I loved all animals in general, I did the norm and focused on those. I gradually became obsessed with wolves - werewolves in particular. Looking back, I can see that the werewolf was a good avenue for me to fantasize about. I was controlled strictly everywhere, in school and at home.

I had absolutely no rest. At the bus stop, the two neighbor kids teased me. While riding the bus, I was pelted with rocks, weed-stickers and anything that was disgusting or could possibly hurt. During school, I was ignored whenever there were match-ups, and left every single time as the last one when there were choices to be made for any type of teams. When I came home, it wasn't any better. It was no surprise when I had a mental breakdown (I was bipolar and no one knew it until I got tested).

When I finally returned, school teachers and counselors blackly stereotyped me when we told the schools I had mental problems. My mother and stepfather just thought I was "faking" all my illnesses. The werewolf is ostracized by their fellow humans as well. I could relate to that. Also, the wolf is a pack animal, and creatures that run in packs have strong bonds with each other. I wanted this from my family and fellow classmates. I needed it; I  craved it. When I didn't get it, I turned to becoming a wolf myself. I played with the story, read a lot of literature, painted werewolves in art class. That sort of thing.

Then I heard from people that my single "friend" had ;always talked about me behind my back to gain status from others. See, they wouldn't speak with her since she was a nerd. Real nerds are not glamorous, as today's media interprets them. We are pariah, and many do not have friends. But if she told gossipy stories about me, they would pay her attention. This hurt deeply. I took a chicken's heart from the soup we were having for dinner one night and ate it in front of her.

Yes, I eat chicken hearts. More about that below.

That's when I realized that I had perhaps taken it a bit too far, seeing as she was wholly American and didn't get that sort of thing anyway. I had shocked her, certainly, but for what reason? I told my mother, very calmly, that there was talk about people saying I was a werewolf at school. I said that they might be contacted about it (I had a feel for the school system doing this to me by now) and that I had it under control. I was going to try and not be open about what I believed and wanted. All I wanted was something that wasn't possible - to be a furry half-human creature, loved by others of my pack and accepted. I didn't understand why or how humans could be so cruel to others. And I didn't know about furries. There was nowhere I could turn to see that there were others like me. The school did contact my mother, who in her turn didn't listen to me and went there for a conference. They called me in like an intervention with a slew of counselors and my art teacher lied in front of everyone. I think I know why she did it now; she wanted my mother to think things were serious and "fix" her "mentally unstable" child.

I like rare - even raw -- meat. I always did. When I was little my mother would let me eat some of the meatball mix when she made them. I always ask for "blood rare" (or "blue") meat when we go out, and I enjoy eating parts of creatures that Americans think are weird. I was raised fully Italian. Eating the giblets, like the heart and gizzard of a chicken, is not strange when viewed by another culture. And the fact that I liked my roast beef sandwiches bloody rare was translated into "she's eating raw meat". Everyone was predisposed to think this because I was "weird", I didn't do "normal" things, and anyway, I wanted to be a wolf! Of course I was fucked up!

But I wasn't.

Sadly, I allowed myself to be, once again, beaten down. And when the internet became huge, I went online and discovered I wasn't the only one that felt this way. I developed a fursona and kept things small, just drawing and writing a bit about her, through which I discovered an amazing fact.

She was the real me.

After many years I now have a wonderful and supportive husband. With his love it still took me six or so years before I opened up and began buying, making and wearing tails again. He doesn't understand, but he knows it makes me happy. We've been married nine years as of 2014 and I own several tails and sets of ears, as well as a necomimi (sic) set that I wear when the fancy strikes me. I dye my hair wild colors at my age and stand up straight when people get angry in public because I don't look "normal". I have started to realize that my happiness is just that - mine. It shouldn't affect you in a negative way. It should be the opposite! When you see someone so happy and being pleasant to you, you should react in the same way back. If you do not, then I wash my paws of you.

You dislike me because I'm different? Because you see only the negative aspect of furries? Every group, by the way, has its "crazies", the extremists. They don't make up 100% of the culture. Just because "that one" does this or that doesn't mean other furries do. I choose to be part of a group that is supportive of all its members. One that has hugs and pack acceptance. If you are judging me badly because you think being furry means something disgusting without really learning about us, or because I'm different, then you have a flaw that I don't care for.

You're too human.