I only wanted to be trans. It’s just trans OCD and I’m gaslighting myself because I think transfems are cool. I didn’t have any signs growing up anyways. I wish I was female, but I’m still cis though.

Much like being bi or having ADHD, I had a narrow view on what being trans meant. I thought all trans people knew they were trans from a young age. I thought that trans people had conscious reasons for wanting to be another gender. I thought wanting to be a woman was different from being a woman. I thought I could control what I want and who I was. I thought I had freedom to choose.

It’s earth shattering to realize just how little freedom we have. I didn’t get to choose who I fell for. I didn’t choose to be trans. I didn’t accept who I was was when I was younger because I thought conformity was the only option. I always wished I could be “normal” to not feel so alone around other people.

When I crushed on a male childhood friend, I didn’t recognize it as such because I didn’t comprehend “gayness” as an option. I picked male characters in video games because I didn’t see female characters as an option. I couldn’t have long hair because I was a boy and boys like short hair. I had a crush on a girl, so I must be a straight male.

For as far back as I remember, I thought I was bad and wrong. It’s why I couldn’t make friends with the boys. If I spent time with a girl, it was weird and I had a crush on her. I had to fit in with the dudes. There was no other option. I looked up to kids that rejected the norms, but I could never be like them. I had no confidence. I was shy and wanted to be invisible.

I couldn’t control my feelings because I tried to disconnect from them. I honestly didn’t know how I felt or what I wanted most of the time because it was usually negative and painful. When I had definite desires that went against the norm, I assumed they were wrong and invalid. I learned to hide what I wanted, but I still sucked at hiding my unhappiness.

I’ve had to relearn how to listen to my heart, and part of that was accepting that I don’t need to be normal. I’m a person, but I’m not like most people. I’m not average. I fall beyond the standard deviation. Normality alone is useless. Only morality makes a person good or bad.

Since coming out, I’ve felt alive. I’ve had externally stressful moments, but they’re nothing compared to my moments of dysphoria. Dysphoria can kill me, but euphoria can protect me just as well. Learning oneself after purposefully losing it isn’t easy, but it’s worth it.