Cross-posted, w00t!

[supresmooth.livejournal.com]

My mother will not accept me. She says there's something wrong with me. I have a disorder. I need to figure out why I think I'm a man. I should be tested. I should see a therapist. I don't understand compromise.


I do not have a disorder. There is no why, I just am. I do not need to be tested. I want to see a therapist, desperately. I do understand compromise, I just don't sometimes.



What's in it for me? Money. Acceptance.

What's in it for me? Truth. Self respect.




There are two paths: 1) Be who I am inside. Be disowned, disallowed, excommunicated, disrespected, descriminated. 2) Be who you want me to be. Be revered, accepted, invited, privilaged.


I want the latter for myself. I always have. I weigh out it out heavily in my head every day. The idea floats around inside me always. I could be rich for pretending to be who they want me to be. Just until they're dead. I want to be able to do that. I'd do it, just for the money. But I can't. I don't have that strength. I don't have it in me to do it. All I can think about is how much I want to be me. Free.