When I was younger, I thought I wanted to be a nurse. Despite feeling squeamish around needles and blood, having weak social skills, and no interest in biology or gym class—I thought becoming a nurse was right for me. I think I wanted to become a nurse in the same way I wanted to become a man’s wife, or a mother. I thought it would look good on paper. I thought people would think favorably of me if I was a nurse. It would prove something. I thought of it as a feminine career that required higher education and that attracted the type of girls who I felt judged by, and who I judged. I think I
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