I liked men because that was what I’d always seen as the obvious choice for me to make. I knew a lot of queer people, and the certainty with which they’d decided upon their queerness intimidated me. They spoke of knowing it since childhood, understanding they were different before they could even articulate how. I never felt like I knew anything about myself for certain. My resistance to committing to one way of being now seemed doubly obvious in retrospect. Not all paths set out for me were ones I had to travel. That’s what I’d told myself when I’d first ignored the Mason vision all those
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