Right. Honesty is key--and if I were being completely honest with myself I'd say that I really have no idea what I'm doing here. All of a sudden I felt a violent urge to find people who could help me--anyone really, even though I haven't been doing much to help myself lately. I'm eighteen-years-young and I'm a female (it is female, right? That's what they call it when you don't have something to squishdangle between your legs?), it's four o'clock in the morning and I'm also desperately sleep deprived.
I'm not going to spill my life story at the moment because there's nothing interesting to tell. Not for lack of experiences to share or a nice game of "pity-fishing", but just because I've had a relatively "normal", "boring" life; at least as normal and boring as life can be when it concerns a boy who is hopelessly trapped in a girls body. I like to do anything and everything that comes to mind: skateboarding, playing guitar, drawing and singing all come to mind. I'm horrible at every single one of them. Normal enough right? The only abnormality in my book is that I don't know if I'm gay, straight, bisexual or just out of place. However, I do know that I've always been this way--and when I say always, I mean as far back as I can remember. Always wearing wearing boy clothes, always acting like one of the guys, always doing things that would strike other people as odd to where they have to point out my behavior and make comments (whether they be negative, positive or indifferent).
When I walk down the street, the unsuspecting passer-by will say "Excuse me, sir." "Sorry, man." "Watch it, buddy." with a blank stare that almost pushes the threshold from indifference into confusion. Everyone else just tries to stay out of my way, or do this little number (which I think is the best, by the way). "Thanks sir...ma'am...have a nice...day?" And get embarrassed and walk off. You guys know what I'm talking about. The shameful stutter and bashful blush that comes with being confused.
Which, in turn, confuses me. I never correct them, regardless of the pronoun, and it neither embarrasses me nor makes me angry. So. With that, I've come here to aid in my immediate journey to discovering who I really am, and what the hell I should do about it, if anything at all.
The name's RAA, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance.
