2002: After a 175 pound weight loss. I’m feeling amazing. My life has been saved. I have come back from morbid obesity and am full of optimism and love for myself. I am sober and “wholesome”. I am exploring my sexuality a lot, but gender not at all, which I now consider to be a crucial mistake, because for me they do work together to make the whole. Or perhaps I do consider it, but I’m insisting that I can be a man. At least give it a good try. I hadn’t ever really tried. I went from boy to girl to monster. Now I will be a man. Not a woman. That, I don’t even consider it an option. “That was cute when I was 22”, I always dismiss it with a sneer. My body is wrecked from being obese. Sagging loose flesh that I will surgically correct, but I’m still left with scars and flab that bothers me. The notion of being sexy and feminine is inconceivable to me. I won’t entertain the question.
