My person

11

Every dysphoria is different. People experience it different. Some people have crippling gender dysphoria that hinders their quality of life, while others barely experience it and have a good head on their shoulders about it. No matter how poor or well one can handle it, it will be and is always a negative experience.

To explain it easy, gender dysphoria feels like certain body parts are nothing more than theatrical props. But your costume is stuck so you have to wear it off set too. Some days you can justify is by reminding yourself that you will get the costume off eventually and that it's not really you. On other days you would do anything to take off the costume and maybe finally stop method acting and/or working around the costume, "ignoring" it's there.

More specifically:
When gender dysphoria first hits me, the best thing I can compare it to is like a reverse phantom limb feeling. I am going about my life completely normally and then out of the clear blue sky, as random as anything, I feel a breeze or someone brushes past me and accidentally touches a part of my body I completely forgot I had.

Like, it's like I am having a casual stroll and I accidentally bump into a guy and he brushes past my chest and I am like "oh yeah shit I have breasts." It feels unnatural, and I can't not think about it. It's distracting and embarrassing and I don't want it anymore.

I sigh and I run my hand over my T-shirt, making it fall flat over my chest. I have put my binder on and put my shirt over it.

I look at my flat chest. That's how it is supposed to be. Flat. I feel great, looking in the mirror and seeing that there is nothing to show. Though, I kind of feel like it is wrong. I am already born with an advantage compared to other trans persons. I have both a penis and breasts. Yet, I feel like one of them don't belong on my body. I shouldn't complain though. I have it already better than others. I shouldn't ask for more.

I sigh deeply and take my shirt off before taking off my binder. Maybe another time.

I grab a razor blade from my drawer. I hesitatingly put it on my arm. I shouldn't. But maybe it would make me feel better? I deserve it too. I am a freak. I am not normal.

I shut my eyes close firmly and drag the blade over my arm. It stings and little blood drops start to fall from my arm. I lay the blade back in the drawer and take a piece of toilet paper to press it on my wound. I put on my hoodie, making sure it covers my cuts.

I walk out of the bathroom and see Chloe laying on her bed. She looks up from her phone and smirks at me. "What were you doing in there, freak? You were in there a long time".

"None of your business"

"Well, you know, it kind of is. You still are my roommate and like everybody else I don't want to be roomed with a freak"

"Well, I can't decide that. You asked to room with me. I had nothing to do with it", I answer annoyed and sit down on my bed, sorting my papers from my essay.

"But, you kind of did. You decided that you wanted to be something that doesn't fit into our society, something not usual or normal. You decided on your own that you wanted to be a freak. And if you think that you are ever going to be normal, you are wrong. Nobody's ever going to like you. Next thing you know, you get kicked out of soccer for being too abnormal. They can't have that. A freak in there team. Just watch your back Y/ln. Because I know everything about you!", she rants while she stand up and shreds my papers into tiny pieces.

Tears prickle into the back of my eyes. I shouldn't cry. She is right. I am not normal. I am a freak. I am never going to fit into society. I can't come out. I can't be who I want to be. I will never be called up again. Maybe UCLA even decides to kick me out. I just can't.

I stand up and run out of our dorm. I just keep running and running, no sign of stopping anytime soon. I run until I don't even know where I am anymore.

I stop and lean my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I take a look ar my phone. Looking at google maps, trying to figure out where I am. I realise, I am close to Mal's apartment. I am not going back to my dorm.

I feel a drop of water on my arm. I look up at the sky and see more and more drops fall down. Right. Just what I needed.

I sigh and start running again towards Mal's home, getting completely soaked by the rain.

I press the bell and anxiously wait for her to open the door. When I see her, tears start to fall again. She pulls me in a hug without saying anything.

After a while, when I calmed down a little bit, she pulls me into her home. "Nice apartment", I mumble quietly as I look around the living room.

"Yeah", she just answers. She goes to take a glass of water from the kitchen and returns before sitting down in the couch. "You are completely soaked. I still have some clothes from you. Do you maybe want to get changed?".

"If I can, yes please"

She leads me to her bedroom and takes out some sweatpants and a hoodie she stole from me. She leaves the room to give me the clothes.

I am still getting changed when my phone rings. I look at the screen and see an unknown number. I take the phone.

"Y/n speaking"

"Hi. This is Jill Ellis, coach for the uswnt. I wanted to tell you that you are invited to the next camp"

"Oh thank you"

We talk a little more about the details and then she hangs up. I an getting to play with Mal. I am getting to play with USWNT. My dream has come true.

I hope it doesn't get ruined.