I often wonder why I’m a wolf. Why me? Why a wolf? It sounds so meaningless and nonsensical at times. Is my imagination overriding my perception of reality? Is this day-to-day experience of being in the wrong body just a psychological differentiation of myself from other humans? Or a crazy spiritual phenomena? Are my dreams the results of a past life? What it would be like in my true form? Or a coincidental, reoccurring dream? Are these limbs I feel a result of my own mind playing games on me? Is my mind or soul confused? Why do I feel out of place in my own body? Should I integrate my religious beliefs with my experiences? Keep them separate? Or throw them away completely? Why do I have to worry about these things? Am I not allowed to live in blissful ignorance? Do I enjoy the emotional drama? Why is it that the forest is so welcoming, but the city makes me feel claustrophobic? Why do I wonder? Why can’t I just “be”?
These are some of the questions I ask myself on a daily basis, many of which, I’m sure other otherkin think of, as well. Despite all the meditation these past six years and consistent curiosity and research, I can’t answer any of these questions satisfactorily.