the-w-word-scares-me

[the-w-word-scares-me]

going through an identity crisis at any hour of any day of any year man this is tough

[the-w-word-scares-me]

Nameless

when i search on google why having a name is so important, the first thing that comes up on the page is: “Our names are an incredibly important part of our identity. They carry deep personal, cultural, familial, and historical connections. They also give us a sense of who we are, the communities in which we belong, and our place in the world.” That in itself is a pretty good explanation, even if we don’t normally stop to think about how much of a difference a name does in our lives until that name is no longer ours.

oh, yes. the blissful transgender experience of finding yourself a name. a name that sounds cool, maybe, or a name with a great meaning, something that represents what you are or what you wish to become, or a one-syllable-name with no meaning at all. it’s exciting to look at all the possibilities and test out to see how they feel on your tongue.

but oh, the alienating transgender experience of not being able to find a name that fits just right. my birth name is so beautiful, i love it, but it no longer describes who i am. there are so many beautiful names that may fit me, but some of them are impractical because of the language barrier (they’re hard to pronounce in my native language). some others are cute, but don’t really fit me, and even if it’s been months since i started searching, i have no name. when someone asks, obviously, i say my birth name for practical reasons and mere convenience, but it feels empty. when i’m doing banal things like a random quiz online and there’s a space for you to fill in your name… i have no answer. i simply smash the keyboard and go to the next question, trying to avoid the tiny voice in the back in my head that screams “we need a name! we need a name!”

i know that deep down a part of me was looking forward to this change. i believed way too much when Halsey sang, on her latest album, that ��maybe i could be a better human with a new name”. i was so thrilled by the idea that, in addition to starting my life with a new gender presentation and new pronouns and a new name, i could throw away my cringe past and start over as a new, fresh person.

unfortunately, that’s not how it works.

i feel empty every time i remember i’m nameless. like a huge part of me was missing, and i had millions of spare parts to make myself complete again, but none of them quite fit. i never really liked question that were too personal - “what’s your favorite color? what animal would you be? what type of flower do you like?” - because hey, i don’t know either. i just followed along with whatever people said i liked, not because it was necessarily my favorite, but because it wasn’t bad for me to complain about and i had no better ideas to suggest. in conclusion, i never knew myself.

a few things, obviously, were fixed, and therefore, known enough to give me a sense of identity: my name, my age, some of my favorite books and songs. now, i like too many songs to decide, my favorite books were read so long ago that i’m afraid i won’t like them as much if i read them again, and my name describes a stranger.

but oh, yeah, the hopeful transgender experience of knowing that you are the only one who has a say on who you are or not. and the resilient transgender affirmation that comes from seeing other succesful peers: everything will be fine. someday. and i’ll have a beautiful name and the identity i always dreamt of.

it’s going to be okay.

[the-w-word-scares-me]

I think of myself as being created on the internet since I’ve lived so much of my life on here. As a curious child. A sullen teenager. So much of my formative years were spent within this online world. More time here than in the physical world. The fact I have to navigate the physical world is really scary and confusing. Meanwhile the internet has always made sense. Perhaps that’s part of why I don’t belong. I wasn’t made to exist in the physical world. Only the online one where I’m a concept and can be whoever I want and go wherever I desire.

[the-w-word-scares-me]

Managed to make a pfp that feels right

[the-w-word-scares-me]

how is it that even when i have no sense of identity i still manage to find a way to hate myself?

you would think that when i’m literally questioning who i am i could at least have a neutral opinion but no, there’s always gotta be something i don’t like

[the-w-word-scares-me]

reasons why i didnt do something you just asked

- i forgot i was real and had an influence on the world around me

- i forgot the world around me was real and didnt think it could be influenced

[the-w-word-scares-me]

Mom, theres a stranger in the mirror.

[the-w-word-scares-me]

[the-w-word-scares-me]

When being a woman feels more like a performance or a character than it feels like an identity.

Like how you'll make a character and you're still attached because you have little pieces of yourself in every character, and you play the character so long. The character picks up these pieces of you like a lint roller.

And at the end of the day it isn't really you, never has been, but you feel so much more comfortable in its skin than your own. It's easier to play a character and let them take the fall instead of having to show yourself and your values and take the bullet when you get hurt.

[the-w-word-scares-me]

I have no idea what i fucking am

I hate being called a woman and i hate my name

She is so disgusting feeling

But i feel so strong being feminine

Yet i feel safe being masculine

I like my hair short, it feels so much better

But i cant answer a single question about myself

Sexuality, gender, pronouns, nouns

Everyway someone could refer to me is this fuzzy void

[the-w-word-scares-me]

“Sometimes I know myself too well, or I don’t know myself at all, as if I’m a stranger to my own being.”

— “Letters You Will Never Read”, anastasiasyah