I make an awesome girl. I made a complete garbage train wreck of a boy. But now that I know who I am? I’d want to know me.

I think from about the age of eleven I was really just waiting to die, surprised when I woke up each day and wondering how many more I had left. I burned through a lot of days. I feel like I should make better use of what I’ve got left.

This is a thing I have trouble explaining to people. I’ve never been suicidal. I have never had that much agency over myself. I only just took ownership of my body, after 42 years. I’ve just been waiting every day for the end. Sometimes but not always hoping. Always waiting.

I am very good at waiting. I’m used to it. It’s all I have known. Increasingly since the spring I have been feeling impatient. Which is… new.

Now, I actually want something. I want to be a real person. I’m no longer waiting for it all to end. I’m looking for a way to make it start.