When I was 14, I stumbled across the idea of being trans. I really related to what the trans men described and I felt a deep connection to masculinity. Just before turning 15, I was out as a trans guy and wore a binder and cut my hair and I felt so much better.
I always say that the day I cut my hair was the first day I felt beautiful. I cannot stress how happy I was.
I became heavily invested in the trans community and I advocated for trans rights every chance I got. Something always felt off, but I attributed it to not being on testosterone because I had and still have debilitating dysphoria.
I was a trans man until the beginning of this year, when I turned 18. I found radical feminist blogs and realized I could love myself and my body as a gender nonconforming woman.
Towards the end of being a trans man, I realized I only loved women. But I identified so heavily with the gay identity that I decided if I were to be a man, I would be bisexual. This was largely because of the power imbalance between men and women and my knowledge that I am homosexual.
I learned that being transgender stemmed from hating the way I was perceived in society and being so deeply immersed in the lgbt community that I thought the only way to be a masculine lesbian was to be a trans man.
Being transgender drove a huge rift between me and my family. my mother cried because she was so scared for me. The day I told them I am not trans, my sister gave me the biggest hug I‘d had from her in years.
I am a butch lesbian and I have never felt happier or more empowered. I realized, through time and suffering, that I can be a woman only for women. I don‘t have to shave. I can have short hair. I can have dysphoria. I am still a woman. I am still beautiful.