It started with conflicting feelings about my self-expression, and me being scared of the fact that I was imagining being with my best friend romantically at the time. Yet the only way I could do this was to imagine myself as a man, which made me feel more at peace and less conflicted.
At 14 years old, I began to be groomed by an adult man online for nine months, validating me as a boy. I hated myself so badly I didn’t know anyone else would even want to be friends with me like that.

Along with the grooming, self-hatred, my highly religious forceful family, I continued to identify this way, which included duct-taping my chest, two sports bras every day for two years and showering in the dark.
Only at 17 years old, I could realize that what happened to me was not healthy. It wasn’t me dealing with dysphoria I was feeding it. This is how I stepped into radical feminism. Talking with clever women made me realize that I’m a lesbian woman.






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