i hate my brain.

none of this is correct grammar.

TW//gender dysphoria

i wish i had detachable boobs. like,,, i could take them off if i felt androgynous or more masc and then put them back on if i felt more feminine. i just want to exist. in the non-borderline-culty-religious way, i've always liked the phrase "my body is just a vessel." i know that i need to take care of it and love it, but some days i hate being associated as a girl because i have very obvious boobs, even if i wear a baggy shirt. it's not a "pick and choose" situation, like "i hate being a girl because periods suck" or "i want to be a guy so i can do whatever i want." no...it's deeper than that, and i don't quite understand it, but i feel it. it's so deep within me that it's scary. i want to leave it untouched for years like i did before; i want to pretend. i want to "embrace" my clevage by growing up too fast. i want to feel like it's just a part of me. i want to be unbothered. i'm 17, almost 18, but i've been feeling this way since i was 11.

i realize now that i've never been truly comfortable being perceived as a biological woman when i wanted to present as androgynous. when i wanted to present as feminine, "she" never bothered me; showing my cleavage or getting all pretty never bothered me. but now im tuning into my own wellbeing... and I'm rapidly crashing down to earth. I've reluctantly admitted to myself (finally) that it makes me uneasy when i'm called "she" sometimes. i accept it, but why does it make me feel that way? i don't know. and i dont know if i ever want to find out. but this is fresh and raw and severely introspective. it's me and my existence, and i really wish it wasn't.

i wish i was "normal." a cishet woman who is constantly comfortable in her curves and has a white picket fence. the picture perfect scenerio. but i'm not like that, and in some ways i'm eternally grateful. but at times like this when the extra flesh at my chest makes me feel worse about myself, i hate the fact that i'm not her. i have a bipolar, severely dysfunctional, and abusive relationship with my body. 

maybe i'm she/they. maybe i'm they/them. maybe i'm just a self-conscious and confused she/her. i don't know.

in the end, i just want to be without any tethers to gender. i just want to be happy. if it's not one thing, it's the other. and this time, the "other" is a fucking nightmare. i feel pathetic. turns out listening to yourself is one of the most painful things you can do. you go through the five stages of grief. welcome to stage 1: denial.

i don't fucking know, man.