Ever since I was very young, even though didn't know how to define my interest, I always had an obsession with animals. Later I learned that as a young girl, I had a lot of unusual thoughts, particularly as a female. When I was about 12 or 13, I put my finger on what was "wrong" with me - I was a macrophile. Strangely enough, I had an obsession with dragons because they epitomized everything that I sought: power, freedom, and the ability to leave a boring human state.
I don't know where along the line my preference switched to canines. Shortly after I ditched my old dragon obsession, I designed some canine characters, and my interests have remained there ever since. I had a good friend who I would not be surprised if she was a therian (of the draconic variety); we were close, and I think through her, I began to feel a sudden disappointment with being a human, wanting something more. Perhaps it had to do with wanting more and more to see a werewolf, to be one, etc. Dragons just don't exist, plainly, whereas wolves and big dogs clearly do. It seemed that only in the past three or four years that I started to "understand" werewolves, and what they meant to me. It was a fantasy that I could only ever hope to live one day.
Psychologically, I've analyzed myself many times. Lycanthropy seems like an everyday thought to me. I was raised, and still am (I just turned 18 in October, so my independence is not fully there just yet!), in a very conservative manner, knowing what is morally acceptable and how to act. Well-behaved, gets good grades, nice personality, all that stuff. Finally I realized why I loved werewolves so much: the change from man to beast was a metaphor the freedom from society. Having been pent up, so to say, my whole life, having to conform to my parents/society/etc., it seemed only natural that I would worship some other form of escape where as a wolf someone could roam freely, kill off enemies, and indulge in their unbridled power.
That's another aspect of lycanthropy that appealed to me. Up until about 10th grade, I was very shy. Now I am more confident, and it seems that my body has finally caught up with my mind. I have a physically aggressive personality, but a somewhat "doormat" personality otherwise. You could even go so far as to say that I like being physically dominant in situations - like an alpha wolf - though I'm not very bossy. (I'm pretty sure we're all somehow weird here in one way or another - look up "sthenolagnia" on Google and you'll know what I mean). This change awakened a force in me I never knew I had, which connected strongly with the lifestyle of a werewolf. The increase in size, muscle mass, enhanced power through fangs/claws, speed, freedom... all that good stuff. ;)
Drawing and writing about werewolves has also given me a very real way to allow my angry feelings (which I try to hide, since I, for a long time, though it was socially unacceptable to be angry or violent) to be channeled. The way I see it now is a lot more liberal than before. Until just about last year, actually, I was terrified of my dark urges/fantasies. I thought I was psychotic. But now, I realize that for me, simply "reattaching" my
id (if you know Freud's theories of psychoanalysis, that means my animalistic desires) to artwork, instead of performing the actions of the wolf in real life (which are deemed unacceptable by the
superego, society's prohibitions) is better than going out and killing someone, even if it's sick and twisted enough that I'd want to in the first place. Werewolves are such a personal topic for me, but I really don't know how I'd not spiral downwards into rage and depression had I no way to vent.
The end.
