The Battle Within

 

The Battle Within Has Nothing To Do With Others ?

DISCLAIMER

I got ChatGPT to rephrase my original voice-to-text monologue, for the purpose of reducing any possibility of the manuscript causing offence to anybody. The intent is not judgemental but rather a cold-read analysis based in part on observation and experience, in part on studies both of psychoanalysis and LGBT culture. 

The writer would like at this time to assert his opinion that his opinion is as irrelevant to you as yours is to him. Gender pronoun used is based on objective biological fact, rather than subjective opinion.

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The Battle Within Has Nothing To Do With Others ?

It isn’t homosexuality or transsexuality in others that many people reject.

It’s the homosexuality or transsexuality, more deeply, the feminine in the masculine and the masculine in the feminine, within themselves that they reject.

This is about the animal, the anima or animus: the polarised gender aspects that reside in all of us.

To be in touch with this inner polarity doesn’t make one homosexual or transsexual.

This is a common misunderstanding.

In fact, to consciously connect with these parts makes a person more whole, balanced, human.

Psychoanalysts taught this through decades of observation. A century later it’s still true, even in a world where LGBT identity is more visible and more accepted than when these insights first emerged.

Yet, for many of us who are simply tired of having LGBT messages force-fed to us every time we turn on the television or go online, it isn’t the identities themselves that repel us.

It’s the overkill.

And ironically, this overkill ends up being counterproductive.

Rather than encouraging natural, curious exploration of our own psyche, it provokes irritation, rejection, and exhaustion.

Naturally, the rejection is often projected onto those who do accept and express those parts of themselves, rather than kept where it belongs: on the cultural machinery that insists we must care, must declare, must align, must label ourselves.

In exploring the shadow self, there are typically three stages:

1. Denial or rejection : “That isn’t me.”
2. Anger and rejection : “How dare you suggest it might be me!”
3. Acceptance and integration : “Yes, that’s a part of me, and it makes me more whole.”

None of this necessarily makes a person homosexual or transsexual.

But contemporary discourse has shifted.

Now, rather than exploring how these inner polarities make us human, the prevailing cultural message is:

“If you discover these qualities within yourself, it must mean you are gay, bisexual, or trans.”

That leap is presented not as exploration, but as proof.

The LGBT cultural movement benefits from this.

Historically, there was anxiety that the LGBT dating pool was too small.

Encouraging more people to identify on the LGBT spectrum broadens the pool.

It’s a strategy that worked: several decades later, the media and education systems largely reinforce this narrative.

But it creates confusion.

A person might honestly explore their anima or animus, only to panic because they’ve been told it must mean they’re not “truly” heterosexual.

And yes, there are strong arguments in bisexual and queer circles that we are all latently bisexual, but social conditioning keeps us from admitting it.

That follows the same first two stages of shadow work: denial, then anger.

Only at the third stage, acceptance, does integration happen.

Even then, most people remain heterosexual, because for them it feels truer, safer, or simply more natural.

Not because they’re inauthentic, but because identity is only one part of being human.

The pressure to “come out” often lacks the safety net of real self-acceptance.

Even inside the LGBT community, there is sometimes more pressure than support: telling people “you will be accepted” doesn’t mean they accept themselves.

That’s why we see tragic cases:

Some trans people, after enormous struggle, transition physically, only to find deep regret.

Others find happiness and peace.

Both outcomes are real; both exist.

But the movement often denies the first outcome because it contradicts the narrative.

In truth, processing the shadow doesn’t automatically mean adopting an LGBT identity.

Rather, it means recognising that, as humans, we all carry male and female aspects, strong and soft, yin and yang, assertive and yielding.

The soul may indeed be androgynous or beyond gender but that is not the same as transsexualism or a literal gender change.

Gender fluidity reflects how mood, setting, or relationships shift our sense of self.

We adapt our thinking and emotional tone depending on who we’re with, what we’re feeling, and what part of ourselves we allow to be expressed.

Identity is organic, a living thing, not a stone tablet.

Yet gender isn’t the same as personality.

Some people fuse their personality and gender identity so closely that they’re offended by the idea these could be separate.

Others see them as separate and feel confused by the insistence they should be merged.

Ultimately, most people don’t hate LGBT people.

They’re simply tired of being asked to care about something that, to them, isn’t central to life.

Acceptance, ironically, means it becomes boring, ordinary, not something we must think about all the time.

When the conversation never ends, it becomes background noise, like loving spaghetti bolognaise but being sick of it after too much.

Sometimes, what looks like prejudice is just fatigue.

But when people say “I’ve had enough,” it’s often read as a hateful attack rather than what it really is: setting a boundary to live without endless ideological noise.

Some people within LGBT communities react to those boundaries with alternating vulnerability and aggression; classic control strategies rooted in fear of rejection.

“Poor me” and “how dare you” can become twin tools to shame or guilt others into compliance.

This isn’t universal, but it is documented in psychology and seen in some parts of the culture.

The real shadow work for LGBT people themselves would be to see how this drama exhausts others and to accept that acceptance doesn’t mean everyone must care passionately.

Most people want to accept; they just also want peace, balance, and to get on with life.

What’s actually being rejected is not your identity. It is the noise and drama around it.

What people truly want, from everyone, regardless of gender or sexuality, is simple:

Kindness, depth, humour, creativity, humanity, good conversation and yes, maybe even a bowl of homemade spaghetti Bolognese.