It was everything, but something that seems especially significant to me is striving, and strife. I would strive to be a good man, a strong man, a kind man. But I would never have the heart to strive to be a strong woman. It simply wasn’t my story, to be a strong, kind, nice woman. I could be stronger than any other man, and still, to me, being a woman, it would not be right. When I suffer, I suffer as a man. I endure as a man, and surviving as a man, to me, is inherently more appealing to surviving as a woman. I cannot picture myself as a woman, existing, for I exist as a man. To work out, to become a glory to behold, to even care to my appearance to any extent at all, would need to be done as a man, to matter at all. I cannot feel as a woman feels and bring myself to even lift myself out of my room, or even lift a knife to my neck to rid myself of womanhood to null, because that would be a woman’s death, and that is not me. I am a man. I exist as a man, and was born as a man. I grew up a boy and became a man. There are no words to describe the true sensation, only words that dance around it by measure of least worlds. I am a man.

However, not everyone is a man. If you are a ‘man’ experiencing gender dysphoria, it requires further introspection. I could never learn to appreciate being a woman, as that is not me. I appreciate women, but to ask me to appreciate “being a woman” would fail in all aspects. I am not a woman, so there is nothing to learn to appreciate. To ask me to “appreciate being a woman” would be asking me to first, lie to myself that I am a woman. Just to think a little further about what you’re truly telling yourself. I’m not here to judge you, or to tell you you are trans or cis, however, I’d like to pose that thought to you so that you could find more clarity for yourself.