01 02 03 Genderqueer Chicago: My Body is Against Me 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

My Body is Against Me

My Body is against me.

Every day it tries to undermine me a little bit more, every day it slowly turns into something I don’ t want it to be.

I know many people have body issues, but are their bodies fundamentally wrong. Are their bodies the exact opposite of what they should be? If my body were right I wouldn't be picky about it. I wouldn’t mind if it was too heavy, if my nose was a little crooked, or if my breasts were too small. Because, at least I’ d have breasts. At least I wouldn’t grow facial hair. At least I wouldn’t have a penis.

I fantasize about what it would be like not to have the wrong body. I would fantasize about having the right body, but that is a concept so foreign to me I can’ t even begin to imagine. My thoughts about my body are so warped that I can only settle to imagine what the lack of discomfort is like; the presence of comfort is mystery.

Sometimes I think about hurting my body. I think about cutting it. About stabbing it. About slicing it. About hurting it. I want to punish my body; I want to make it hurt just like it hurt me. I want to get revenge for putting me in a men’ s locker room filled with jeers about the women’ s bodies I wish I had. I want to get revenge for the times it made me feel jealous, then guilty about my girlfriends’ bodies when we had sex. I want to get revenge for the time I cried after I understood I would never have a period. I want to get revenge against it for everything its ever done wrong, and them some.

Sometimes I think that killing my body would be the only adequate revenge. Because my body came pretty close to killing me emotionally. And is emotional death of the spirit not the equivalent of physical death of the body?

Fortunately, my body didn’t kill me. It didn’t for one simple reason: I am stronger than my body. We had quite the fight; my body has scars that will never go away. Likewise, I have thoughts that I will never forget. But, in the end, I won. And not only did I win the fight, I gained control. Control of my body to make it how it should be.

When my body is how it should be I won’ t take it for granted. I won’ t abuse it. I won’t hurt it. I will respect it. Most importantly, my body doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to be right.

By Natalie
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