On Being a Werewolf

On being a werewolf

My earliest therian memory, one where I knew I identified as a wolf, was from the second or third grade. A friend of mine had drawn me a picture as a present. She handed the drawing to me and said “it’s you!” and when I looked at the image I remember being so disappointed that she had drawn me as a human instead of a wolf. I remember feeling like seeing myself as a human on the page was a shock. Of course, I thanked my friend, but the memory stands out to me even after all this time. It also was a lesson, my sense of self was different than how others saw me.

I used to run around on the playground, howling with my nose to the sky. I remember telling a friend “I’ll never stop howling”, and I suppose in a way I didn’t. But my true awakening didn’t happen until much later, when I deployed to Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.

To give a little background, I was stationed in the mountainous part of the country, in a valley where the only road in was the only road out. The combat outpost we called home for a year was small and lacked the amenities of larger bases. The living was primitive and dangerous. You had to be alert all the time because missing a tiny detail could kill you. Being alert wasn’t a problem for me, however. It felt natural, it was like all the things that were wrong with me in the environment of the United States became my super powers.

My teammates said I “acted like a dog” when I was deployed. And it’s true I had a lot of canine mannerisms. But it wasn’t just that I acted like a canine, I felt like I was one too. I could literally feel myself go feral. I was constantly alert like a wild animal, I was living in the wild like a wild animal, and it comforted me that I was living like every other creature on Earth, by my wits with my life in my own hands. If I died it wasn’t some unnatural thing, it was just the way the world was.

Did I have shifts? You could say I was constantly shifted. The wolf was entwined with the human in my soul until I was just one beastly being. And it didn’t go away when I returned home to the states. My sense of self, my understanding of the world around me was fundamentally different than when I had left. I knew I was an animal. I know I am an animal.

Some of my most dramatic shifts however, I had after I returned from Afghanistan, but was still in the service. I didn’t just get phantoms, I got full on shifts where I felt like I was physically transforming into a wolf. I remember laying on my bed, feeling like I couldn’t breathe and that all my organs were rearranging themselves.

Now that I’m older, I haven’t had a shift like this is quite some time, but the wolf is still there. Sometimes I can almost forget, and I feel like a human. Then it will look out through my eyes and I’ll remember who I really am.

I feel like this is the distinction between being a werewolf and being just a wolf. I’m comfortable being human, but it’s natural for me to be a wolf as well. I also don’t experience species dysphoria like many therians do, and I can only assume this is because a werewolf is a being that is both human and wolf. I will admit to a longing to be able to take my other form, however.

Anyway, it’s strange being a werewolf living in a completely human society, where no one can see your fangs. I have been absent from the therian community for too long, but I am now making an effort to reacquaint myself with the community. I am writing this because I can’t share this with my family and friends, it would worry them. But I have a feeling that someone out there, another were-creature, will understand. I just want someone to see the real me.