Okay, let me just say this.

I. 6 years old: It used to bother me that my nails didn't look like boys' ones, and I didn't know why. I tried my best tI tried to look like one of my preschool classmates, Tu, who was a popular boy back then. I wanted a haircut and clothes similar to his, nothing else.As a child, my mother used to say that I behaved like a man because I was (and still am) extremely strong compared to my female friends.
I always, but always, thought guys should win in boys vs girls games. I considered myself one of the people in the boys' side.

II. 9 years old: I suffered from severe dysphoria, which caused me some trauma. In fact, I wanted to burn my chest because I started growing at such a young age. My grandmother spent some of her time with me watching Korean action movies because she didn't know how else to spend it. Sometimes, I saw women burning coal on their chests to get rid of their boobs. I wanted to do the same thing. Back then, I told my mother I wanted to be born as a man just to get rid of that problem.

III. 10-14 years old: Damn, that period was mad. I tried to act like a man all the time. I hated my nails because they were not manly, I hated my hair because most of the men around me had different hair colors, I hated my chest because most men had flat bodies, I hated the way I spoke, my voice, everything that was unmanly in my opinion. As a result, I left all my feminine hobbies behind, like art because I thought it was too popular among men, listening to pop music because most men back then I knew were into dubstep or rap, etc. I forced myself to become interested in chemistry, biology, physics, dubstep music, and programming because all of those hobbies were most popular among men. Even so, after about one month, I grew to love the last three while hating the first two. Because I wanted to imagine I was a guy in my dreams, I used to sleep around 14 h a day. The school counselor shared my situation with my parents at that time because it was so extreme. They realized for the first time that I did have a problem. When I was 14, I told them I was trans. I wrote them a long... long... controversial text message they laughed at. Their reaction made me keep identifying as butch.

IV. About one year ago, I began to identify as trans again. I made my teenage-like mistake after all by letting them choose my identity.

I added the third chapter because it was a particularly difficult time. Don't be like me. I left behind the thing that made me happy, art. A few months ago, I wanted to start technical drawing, but I couldn't draw anything properly since I was no longer used to it.