I like Wandering Son, but it’s slow watching. Some of it is just so painful for me
To be clear, while I don’t know what it is, I’m positive I do not have a gender identity disorder. I’d like to believe with all the disorders I do have, not all the quirks with me are disorders. But I’m not very feminine. I have a mostly masculine personality in a female body, and have never been comfortable being in a female body. In late elementary and middle school, I was downright resentful of my body.
I don’t feel like I was born in the wrong body. However, even I when I was young, I was well aware that society expectations for a girl were much different then a boy, and that when the day came that I had to be a girl, things would change dramatically. See, it’s more then liking girls’ things or boys’ things. I happened to have a loud take charge personality and other traits much more often seen with boys then girls. But where I live in America, people don’t deal with either a girl or a boy not acting as expected (as we see in Wandering Son, although it addresses Japan). If I were a boy, I would be a lot more acceptable. But I know I’m a girl. I’m just not 100% happy with it.
When I was younger, my stunt was to look as boyish as possible. It worked as a charm. My parents didn’t give me an asexual name, but I fooled many a person, as many youngins do. I couldn’t be happier. I only wished to be able to hide as a boy forever. When we started learning about puberty in school, my only question to my mom was if I would be able to have a flat chest and not have curves. She told me she couldn’t promise anything, but family genetics dictated that would probably be the case.
Oh course, I always got the freak genetics. The fact that I even had budding boobs in the spring stunned my fourth grade class. A fifth grade boy tried to sneak up to grab me in the library, and was shocked when his hands sunk around me waist. I went through a few years of being fugly, until I settled in a hot body. I hated every minute of it. I resisted wearing a bra, shaving, wearing one piece suits, trying to deny that I wasn’t turning into women. This wasn’t happening to me.
I wanted out of that body so bad. I wanted to destroy it, to stop it. I tried to do some crazy things, but they were too painful. Finally, I had to give in a let it happen. I moved on to sports bras, and then to a more typical bra as I continued to grow and found myself needing a lot of support. I finally bought a two piece swimsuit the summer I was 16. Slowly, I accepted it.
Even today, I’m not one of those women who embrace their femininity or whatever you call it. Every once in awhile I actually like dressing up, and I do if I have to….but my attire of choice is a t-shirt and jeans. I’m always make-up free. It’s just not me I guess. It’s a good thing I’m dating someone who’s okay with that.
But I do enjoy being sexy, and when I choose so, looking great. And I know I’ll never understand Yoshino, except that she’ll never reach the point of being okay with her body that I am. But I do remember the contempt and hate I felt back in. And it all comes rushing back when I see the pain Yoshino is in.