“I-I just don’t know that woman is the right word for what I am. I’ve always had one foot outside of it, felt further away from that name than others somehow. It’s not who I am, nor who I want to be.” I felt lighter and lighter as the words tumbled out, speaking my deepest confession aloud for the first time. “I like my body better when I don’t have to be her. I like my voice, my clothing, my personality . . . I like me better. It feels like the most honest thing I could be—both a part of and outside of—and moving through everything in between, and yet, I don’t have a word for it . . .”
I am going to cry
