Initial post on therianthropy: definiton, I identify as a housecat, worries & lengthy thoughts

[juushika]

In trying to find a way to write this which was neither staged nor made me sound like a crazyperson, it became quite through and long. I could divide it into reasonably sized posts, but I might as well keep these first thoughts all in one place. By all rights, it is a bit early on to be writing anything at all, but these thoughts have been so noisy in my head that I needed to write them down. In writing them, I've also made sense of them—and so it benefits me, which was the point. Perhaps it may interest others as well.

I am locking this post, however, because the topics are still messy and quite personal, and while I am figuring them out—and coming to terms with the label—I want it to stay at least a bit private.

Therianthropy (therian: beast; anthropos: man) is the belief that one has an intrinsic, personal, internal connection to an animal or animals. Therians believe that for whatever reason (reincarnation, energy resonance, atypical neurology) that part of their core being/soul/identity is animal. Unlike a totem, which is external, the animal identity is an internal part of the self. Unlike "fursona", the animal identity (theriotype/phenotype) is not created but rather discovered, an aspect that a therian is "born with."

And I start that way because after months of viewing, in glimpses from the outside, I've finally taken the plunge and joined a pair of therian communities. I discovered the concept and groups by the blogger/pagan author lupabitch. I read therianthropy every six months or so, avidly tracking back through memories and taking in information. The concept certainly interested me, but I was somehow never brave enough to self-identify with it until now. But recent time spent with the boy, in Second Life, and in thought has lead me to actively, rather than passively, approaching the concept. But it scares me—because it is atypical, because it's hard to express, because I feel like it groups me in with some crazy things. For for all that, it feels right—and has felt right for some time.

I identify as a domestic housecat. (To say it simply.)

Some therians talk about childhood impulses and a distinct "awakening"—I never quite had either. I just knew I was a cat, even if I could never pinpoint the moment when I had realized it. I've liked cats, both domestic and large, since my childhood. I admire the big cats, but I was raised alongside domestic cats and considered them family. Through childhood and adolescence I became proud—almost possessive—of certain abilities, like good night vision and vision for moving objects. In the last few years my feline tendencies have grown more numerous and more pronounced—primarily because the boy, despite being entirely mundane himself, is open-minded and tolerant about my self-expression. I headbutt and whine for attention (and for food), I love being pet and purr in response (as best the human body can), I hiss when annoyed, I bat at the curtains, I bite and claw (out of both love and annoyance), I spend a lot of time asleep or in repose, I stretch out like a cat when I do wake up. Despite my respect for the big cats, I've never identified with them outside of the most wishful thinking. I am highly domesticated—and have few of the survival skills and instincts of a wild animal. My hunt instinct is limited to play and avid tracking of moving objects, and I'm contentedly vegetarian. I'm generally happy to stay indoors and look outside—when I do desire to run free, it's through local forests and fields, and then I want to return to the safety and comfort of the indoors.

All of this this behavior is easy enough to couch within the approximate confines of normalcy and a playful human relationship. What others think of it I have no idea. I'm very introverted and not inclined to touch, least of all headbutt or love bite, anyone but the boy. Devon for his part is accepting and encouraging. But more and more I've been having desires and instincts that exceed human normalcy, and I'm shy of those. I often have the desire to meow, especially to attract attention, but I worry that even the boy would think it strange. I want to rub my cheek against the boy and my bedding, even the chair, to mark what is mine. I want to kneed, and disrupt the boy's work by meowing and whining until he gives me pets and stitches.

I also want cat ears and a tail more than I can rightly say, and feel naked without them, as though I've been stripped of what I should have. Playing as a nekomimi/catgirl in Second Life has been an outlet, but as a result I expect to see my real world self with tail, ears, whiskers. It makes me ache, like homesickness, to miss them. In game I recently began going about as a cat—not anthropomorphic but, except for size, a cat itself, quadruped and furred. It is just an avatar on the internet, but somehow that cat form is like coming home. I can sit, clean my whiskers, curl up, walk on all fours, hiss, extend my claws, rub up against my friends and furniture, run through long grasses and pounce on prey that only I could see.

And I want that my body, here, now. So, however intimidating the label may be, calling myself a therian may well be accurate. In some ways it's a long time coming—these are feelings and desires that I've harbored for a while. In some ways, however, this is still very recent—once I stopped shying from the concept I fell in head first, to eager observation and obsessive reading. The buzz of newness colors my view of things, as being so immersed is wont to do. Where I may be enthusiastic now, I may be embarrassed for all of this later.

I worry about therianthropy for a few reasons. Generally I don't have a problem identifying as non-normative. But this is a difficult non-normative for me to claim. There seems to be a line between "I believe that" and "I believe I am"—a line not unlike the line that seperates sane from crazy. Therians don't believe, of course, that they are currently, physically, the animals with which they identify (as in clinical lycanthropy). But the connection is still there, if distant: If, say, you claim to believe in the physical manifestation of an all-power creator who was murdered and resurrected in order to eternally save human souls, you're a Christian; if you believe you are the physical manifestation of an all-powerful creator here on earth to lead us into the end-times, you're prime material for institutionalization.

Therianathropy is also cousin to otherkin(ism?). Otherkin believe that some part of their core identity is a mythical or "fantasy" archetype, such as celestial beings, fairies, elves, dragons, or vampires. There is a level of crossover between the two groups, such as 'kin with more than one theriotype, at least one of which is a real world animal and a mythical animal, or 'kin who identify with mythical animals which may have once existed in the real world (such as unicorns or dragons). Therianthropy is also something of a subset: both groups believe that some part of their souls are non-human, and therians in particular believe that their non-human aspects are real-world animals. I've been reading some otherkin which are seem very logical, thoughtful, and reasonable, and have actually been wonderful to encounter. But there are some claims which seem, to excuse the word choice, rather fantastical—phenotypes which are so outlandish or unique (not just in appearance, but in the backstory or powers associated with them) that they seem like willful leaps of imagination rather than authentic identities.

And then there's otakin. Otakin/Otakukin believe that some part of their core identity is a fictional character—often but not always from anime or manga. It's another subset within the larger group of otherkin, and something of the fringe extreme. Now I do believe that fiction has the potential to create reality—as some mythical otherkin perhaps attest—but there's a difference between living fictional archetypes and believing that you are character X from anime Y. Otakin are a world away from therians—and yet right next door. I know that it makes no sense to condemn a group for its radicals alone, but if the underlying concept can produce such an extreme result, then it seems worthwhile to question that concept.

Therianthropy alone raises no red flags with me. I don't have strong beliefs one way or the other on reincarnation, but I think it's possible—and even as a child I believed that if reincarnation is possible, humans and non-human animals can reincarnate as each other. Humans have mind and consciousness that separates us from animals, but we aren't inherently different or somehow set apart. If humans have souls, then animals do as well. Why not then might there be overlap between the two, humans and animals, as the result of reincarnation or something else? It seems strange to explain, a bit foolish and a bit hard to confine to words, but the idea makes sense to me on a simple, fundamental level.

However—as easily as I accept the underlying concept, I'm not sure how far it stretches. Therianthropy doesn't make me bat an eye, but some therians do, likewise some otherkin. Little details: The huge numbers of big cat and wolf therians compared to other theriotypes; therians and otherkin with heavily ornamented phenotypes, such as rare this-or-thats or famous powerful warrior these; therians and otherkin with unrealistic explanations of how their 'kinship affects their current real-world appearance or perception (personally or by others). At some point, some of these examples stop making sense—granted I don't know the individuals and can't accurately judge their case, but some therians/otherkin seem exaggerated, idealized, created. And if they honestly believe they are such extremes, then they also seem a little deluded.

And I don't want to be looped in with crazy.

I am mentally non-normative—as a lifetime of depression, anxiety, and agoraphobia indicate. I have no problem with that. I also don't quite agree with the distinction of functioning/non-functioning: I don't function in general human society, which is why I live the lifestyle that I do. But for all that, I still manage to be sane—rational, thinking, logical. Non-delusional.

Where therianthropy fits into non-crazy, I'm not sure. My feelings and beliefs don't set off too many of red flags that worry me in others. My night vision and vision for moving objects are pretty much fact, but on the whole nothing special: I have blue eyes which are very sensitive to light, therefore I prefer and function better low light because it doesn't tax them; good peripheral version and vision for moving objects comes by virtue of using it. Other than that, my body isn't physically more "cat" that anyone else's would be—where I act and look catlike is a product of my personality and how I conduct myself, not the shape I was born with. I don't pretend that my cat self has lengthy, unique physical description or, if it was a previous life, lived in any way out of the norm. In fact, I'm not even sure yet what I look like as a cat—I am a bit curious, though. (In SL I play as a black cat, but that's only because I chose black ears and tail to contrast my red hair. My cat icon on LJ better represents what I suspect my cat self looked/looks like, but that may just be the projection of a longhaired redheaded human. Mostly I'd like to know if I'm a long hair or a short hair.)

Well enough, so I'm not the Mary Su of cat people; I still think I'm a cat. All told, though, especially after writing all of this (I knew there had to be a purpose!), I don't feel so worried about the strangeness of it. There are permutations of the same thing—a non-human spirit within a human body—that I don't understand. The underlying concept, however, via reincarnation or other means, makes sense to me. Some otherkin—although I don't identify—make sense to me: for example, I do believe in fairies and similar spirits, and I also believe that the fairy realm crosses with ours, so I can understand someone who identifies as a fairy or has been "touched" by one (after all, that's not too far from Celtic mythology). And even after allowing for everyone to be and discover themselves in their own way, if there are still extreme examples that I can't quite accept or understand—then so be it. There are fringe radicals to every group, and they don't necessarily indicate any fundamental truth about that group. I don't have to understand or identify with or believe what they claim to believe. Nor is it any of my problem.

There's still a lot of thought and work in my future as far as therianthropy is concerned. Falling into is dizzying and disorientating; I won't know my full take on it, nor quite where I plan to go with it, and I won't until I can step back and gain some perspective. A good chunk of therian (LiveJournal) activity is introductions and stories of awakening, which are certainly fascinating. Much of the rest is about delving into, experiencing, and integrating the animal self. Therians talk about mental shifts where they become the animal within—mentally, of course, in whole or in parts. lupabitch writes about ... well, a lot of things, but among them some practices in externalizing, meeting, and re-internalizing the animal aspect. Shifting, visualization, meditation—I sometimes feel the absence of a tail, but other than that I have no experience in these realms. No matter where I decide to go, hopefully therian communities will provide some inspiration, some reading, some support—to approach these aspects, which have been creeping up on me for a long time, from an active rather than a passive stance.

Mental shifts sound wonderful—and also a bit dangerous, for me personally, because I rely so much on escapism to distance myself from my current, real-world life, which I don't always like very much. However, considering how badly I ache for the cat aspects that I do not have, being able to drop into an animal mindset, to visualize those aspects, to express that sense of self—it would be wonderful, and certainly a chance to fully explore the cat within. I want to do more thinking and reading on where the cat aspects come from. Theories vary within the therian society, and while it doesn't much matter in the long run if it's psychological or related to reincarnation, it's an interesting topic. I'd like to explore my cat body and determine more of my appearance, as I mentioned before—whether we want it to or not, body does help create identity: a pedigree cat may have a breed-specific personality, longhaired cats care for their bodies differently, neutered cats have different personality and behavior than unneutered cats. I'd like to talk with therians, of course—and there are many, just from reading the various communities, who bring rational, thoughtful, intelligent insights about therianthropy.

I'm also curious about domestication in particular. Domesticated theriotypes are a minority, and I've yet to find anyone speak explicitly from a domesticated perspective. Personally, it's akin to how I view the big cats: I've always found them interesting, even awe-inspiring, but never identified with them because they seemed a world away from myself. Wild theriotypes, especially the predators, are similar: they have strength and self-sufficiency, a survival and hunt instinct, which I admire but can only identify with from the greatest distance—a hint of how I could fend for myself, but prefer not to and don't know how to; a play instinct rather than a hunt instinct. Nor do I quite identify with wild prey theriotypes, although they tend to have a greater resonance: I share some skittishness, but I hide under the bed (or in the bedroom) and hiss at strangers rather than keeping an every-wary eye open for danger and escaping to real security; I don't focus on constant grazing, or weigh safety against food, but rather expect my food—and all the rest—to come to me, politely served in a dish.

Many of the traits which I identify as aspects of domestication appear as weakness in this human life. I'm dependent on the boy for food and bodily comforts, I have almost no survival instinct, I like to get my way and don't cope well when I have to deviate from the safety and comfort of my home. Some pets wouldn't be able to survive if turned back into the wild to fend for themselves; turned loose into human society, I can't fend for myself either. Theriotype traits can explain certain behaviors, but they don't excuse them is such behaviors and aspects are negative. After all, the therian is still human—in body, by society, and presumably in at least part of their personality. Maybe by exploring these domesticated aspects I can also learn how to cope with them and function outside of them. Either way, I think there's a lot of interesting content to be considered, there: how important is the domestication to the domesticated theriotype, and what can the therian do about it?

And so, certainly not in short, those are my first thoughts in this whole thing—as identifying as a therian, by name. I don't know how actively I'll post on it, of if I'll think that these careful, serious thoughts are lengthy foolishness in another week. I'm more than happy to talk about it, though, if anyone wants to—questions, concerns, clarification, the distanced option of someone not currently consumed by the subject. And beyond that, I should cut myself short before I tack on another thousand words, and end this here.

Partial crosspost on therianthoughts.