I used to feel uncomfortable. I found indifference in the space I took up, the voice I used, the mannerism I presented. One day, I woke up realizing that I’ve merely been doing what I do to fill up the nothingness that bridges the moments between the dining table, the news, and the bed. But, I figured if I were to go onward with life, I need more intention and understanding in my actions. The hair became one of my first deliberate choices. I realized that I have always had the ability to deliberate, and I decided to use that gift. With no social, national or gender restrictions to tie me down, I wanted to experiment more with expression, with lifestyle, with appearance. Like a meal at first bite, hearty and filling, the next flat and dull, or a bed once freeing and airy, the next empty and cold, the way I compose myself changes like the season. I get dressed today, and then get dressed again tomorrow, a bit differently, an unending process, constant DYSPHORIA: from the Ancient Greek word for excessive pain, a state of feeling unwell or unhappy; a feeling of emotional and mental discomfort and suffering from restlessness, malaise, depression or anxiety.
practice, more or less a perpetual…
Transition.
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