When my gender dysphoria gets triggered, flashes of women scatter everywhere in my head and I compare myself to every single one of them – screaming inside and crying outside that it doesn’t work. That I don’t fit in. That I’m not like them, I’m not cis-gender. I look at my breasts and I get repulsed. I look at my vagina and get repulsed. I hate myself and self-harm during the triggers.

Read More Three (Who have I been all along?)