Hi All,

My name is Clark. I’m from the US—please don’t hold that against me. I’m 'normal.' I’m so sorry so many of you have similar stories, but in a way, at least we’re not alone. For over 50 years, I’ve just felt different, weird, crazy, ashamed, lost, and lonely—stuck in my own head. Growing up before the internet, I thought I was the only person on this planet who felt the way I do. It wasn’t until the end of the 90s that I discovered an entire world I didn’t know existed.

I feel lucky for the most part; I have a good life. I have a career, I’m about to start a new business, and I’ve been married to the same beautiful woman for over 30 years. I have three adult children (supporting themselves!), but I think about the need to amputate my left leg above the knee every waking minute. I think about it when I drive. I think about it in the shower. I think about it when I’m eating dinner. I think about it during yoga. I think about it when I ski. It never ends.

As a child, I didn’t understand my attraction to amputees. I have so many memories with vivid details of every amputee I’ve ever seen. This all started long before puberty, and years before my biological father abandoned my mother. It also started before my stepfather sexually abused my sister and me. If I’m being honest, my entire sexual identity is tied to the idea of me being an amputee, my wife being an amputee (or both), or one of us being trapped inside a cast. It’s taken me a long time to realize it’s not just a fetish for me.

I was afraid of therapy because of all the other trauma in my life, but I’ve dealt with those, and I don’t want some Freud-like person trying to find another 'cause.' My internal map is just wired for less. I have this overwhelmingly strong desire to live as an amputee. I don’t look at my left leg and hate it—it’s not gross or ugly—but I just know it shouldn’t be there. I know without a doubt where I start and this intruder begins. Over time, the pain I feel at night and in the morning steals so much of my sleep and energy. Right now as I write, my leg is just aching.

I did try to tell my wife in 1998, but I didn’t even truly understand myself at that point. My disclosure came out more like a sexual fantasy. At first, my wife tried casting; she hated it. We talked for a year or so about amputation off and on. She would let me bind her leg, but the second I wanted to bind mine, it all became too real for her. I wish I would have only told her about casting; maybe I should have planted that seed and let it grow. What did I know? I had no idea others felt this way. I had zero direction; I just felt like I owed her the truth.

I think deep down she thought I wanted to hurt her or myself. At some point, the communication regarding my thoughts stopped. Sex just became sex for her, and it became a secret for me—a secret I hate every day. I really don’t hate the feeling of needing to be an amputee; I truly want to be an amputee. After 50 years, those thoughts can’t be erased. I just want her to know the truth. I hide so much it hurts. I know I could be a better husband and father if only I had her on my side. I know she loves me. I think she believes I outgrew these desires, or maybe she’s somehow suppressed the memory of those early years of our marriage.

It’s taken me a long time to seek help. Now that I’m finally trying, I’ve realized how hard it is when the help you need relates to Body Integrity Dysphoria. I’ve lost count of the number of phone calls and emails I’ve sent looking for help. Being in the Pacific Northwest with all the LGBTQIA+ acceptance, you would think I would find more support. Most therapists I’ve talked to have never even heard of BID. I spend 15 minutes just trying to educate them.

The first person I did talk to had no idea what BID was, but they were non-binary and very empathetic. I just broke down. I think I really just needed to say it out loud. As I write this, I’m crying now. I told that therapist I’m not 'trying to become disabled'—I’m already disabled, I’m just trying to align the outside with the inside. I still want to ski, hike, climb, surf, and practice yoga. I just want to do it as me for the first time. I know Gender Dysphoria tracks very closely with BID. I’m not gay and I’m not trans, but I fully support those who are. I can’t imagine that struggle. I’m glad trans people are able to find support and treatment. I just wish it were that easy for BID.

I have a friend in Seattle who’s been with her husband for decades, and after his transition, my friend and their kids still support and love her. It’s absolutely beautiful to witness that love and support. If I had the opportunity to amputate my leg today, I’m ready this very minute. I know how crazy that sounds, but it’s true. If I never find congruence, I’ll probably survive somehow—I have for this long. However, finding peace and honesty with my wife is more important.

I wish all of you well on your journey with BID. Maybe we’re all some higher life form. I have to believe there’s a reason we've been saddled with this condition.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for sharing your own stories,

Clark