For me, it isn't so much "wrong body" as it feels like I just developed wrong. I had a birth defect on my genitals that had to be repaired when I was young, but ever since, every few years, I've needed to have maintenance done to fix problems that would come up. And it's like... maybe it's the whole thing that's the defect. Or maybe I just have too much testosterone and that explains the hair everywhere. But it doesn't feel like the "wrong body" per se. Just that certain parts did't come out right.
The rest of it feels sociological. Because I had this defect, I was raised to be a certain way, to act a certain way, to wear certain kinds of clothes and live up to certain expectations. That because I have these defects, I was taught a completely different way to be, much of it never felt right. And in that process, the girl I should have been allowed to become got locked away in a dark box of secrets, hidden under the bed. She screams inside of me. She screams so loud and so desperate, and she doesn't even remember why she got locked away. And because she never got to grow up, my growth has been stunted. My ability to cope with everything is limited. My willingness just to get up and out of bed everyday, to simply exist, has been worn down to nubs. I don't actually want to live. For years, I've only just been waiting to die.
She cries, just wanting to be held and loved by every girl she's ever dreamed of. Every girl she's ever wanted to be, to be with, and hates this thing I've turned her into. It's not her body that scares her, anymore. It's that it's become her prison. She's not in control. Everyone else's expectations for her body is, because her body doesn't match X Y and Z. She might even be able to live with the parts that don't always work, the hair that's everywhere that makes her feel gross and ugly. But she can't live in that world where, "no, you can't wear that. That's girls' clothes," anymore. "No, you can't call yourself Daria, that's a girl's name". "No, you can't want this or that, because you're a boy".
No, I'm not a boy. I don't want to be a boy. And I also think that, as a girl, I have a right to have short hair if I want. Or wear comfortable shoes. Or have sexual thoughts and feelings for other women. But that's my choice. I want to be able to express my femininity as it feels right to me. As a boy, I'm not allowed to do any of that. I'm still at a point where I talk about myself in the third person, sometimes, because that's how this feels. Because I haven't been allowed to be me for so long, she feels like someone else.
"being in the wrong body" is just a very uncomplex way of explaining a very complex thing, an experience that isn't as universal as the narrative trope suggests. The truth is, at least for me, it's a contention of an entire identity, that everything I'm "supposed to be" stands in opposition to everything I actually am. And the line blurs on who actually sees it and who doesn't. When I was young, it was like everyone else saw it but me. But nowadays, I'm the only one who knows, no matter how loud that little girl inside of me screams out in everything I do. And all I want to do sometimes is ask, "if you all saw me acting like a girl when I was young, why didn't you just let me BE one?" Now, I want to be one so bad, it crushes me, and I don't have the first clue how. I don't even know what questions to ask, and the ones I do feel so clunky and complicated.
I wish it was just as simple as "being in the wrong body". It denotes something that could be fixed with a few procedures. It's more like someone twisted my soul like some kind of balloon animal, and I don't even begin to know how to get it all untied. I may never get it all untangled. I may never be "fixed". I may never know how to.