April 29 2019
Written in 2022:
I disagree with my decision now.
I was in a desperate place then, and looking back, I want to punch myself. I really do. It’s the cult-like mentality I had at the time that made it seem like such a fucking good idea. No one could talk me out of it because I was convinced that this was what I needed, what I wanted, and why would I ever have a kid anyway, I had two asexual partners who didn’t want kids, even though when I was growing up my biggest dream was to have a kid, I wanted a kid so fucking bad!!
Something that hits me these years later is that when I was writing about a fictional character having children (after the operation so I wasn’t even able to HAVE kids), my partners got mad at me. “You act like you want kids!!” They were mad! Offended!! “You know we can’t have kids!” I know! “You know how much it hurts me when you describe the concept of childbirth and childrearing!” I’m sorry!! I just wanted a kid when I was growing up, it was my dream, I wanted a baby—
For some reason I felt like I needed this surgery not just to relieve the pain (that I later learned was unrelated to my uterus), but to prove to my partners that I, too, needed gender affirming surgery. I am just as queer as you! Look! I am willing to remove an organ that has been ultimately associated with femininity and womanhood for so long! Look at me! I will not use my nonbinary body in the way that could be perceived as anything female!
I could not think for myself. I was told that this shit was a good idea and didn’t say what I was thinking. Just pushed for it and did it. Set myself on fire so that the onlookers could clap.
I don’t need to prove how far I’m willing to go for others anymore.