I was still thinking about the guy I was. And I guess I have understood a couple of things.
This guy is not me. This guy I was in the past doesn’t exist, and never existed. Only I existed all the time. But I didn’t know that.
See, when I look to the past these days, I can’t help but feel really uneasy. I feel like I was brainwashed. I was told from an early age that I was a boy. I had a boy name. The clothes my parents put me on were boys clothes. Everybody saw me as a boy. And I almost believed it.
And then I realised I had been brainwashed, because I was not a boy. I wasn’t happy as a boy. And I realised I was captive, like in a cult, or in a prison, in which I had to behave in a certain way. And I was expected to behave that way.
This is how I feel about my past. And I hate it with all my heart.
I didn’t have my adolescence. I never had friends who could understand me. I fell in love a couple of times, very very hard, and it hurt a lot. I had all these dreams about being a lesbian girl. I missed all of that. Probably all of that is overrated, but I had the right to have it, right?
And I didn’t grow up. I just transformed into a monster. And had to go out with boys, and try to hang out with girls as a boy, and it was frustrating, and I felt stupid, and I felt bad because I tried to comply with all these stupid male clichés about how to pick up girls, and how to look good, and how to behave.
And thus, I never matured. In some aspects of my life, I’ve remained an adolescent up to my thirties. And in some other aspects I’m still a teenage girl.
I just wish I had had a normal life, as a normal lesbian girl.
I just wish I could wash all that shit away from me.
I want at least those 25 years, from my early adolescence until now, back. And I kwow that is impossible. So, at least, I wish for the hormones to work quickly, and to be effective.
I can’t have my past. Let me at least have my future.