Story:

A body that was never mine, a body that will never be mine, all the limitations that come with it.

The need was to search and experiment, to spread oneself, to exit the present framework, the catalogue of intended roles. To explain myself to myself so that understanding can occur. On that path, the injuries are intense and the consequences are profound.

It’s terrifying how much they have shaped my life, in every aspect of functioning, since I can remember. The self-protection mechanisms that are activated early in childhood and all the ways they reshape the being, the limitations they impose, the extent to which they split the identity, are terrifying.

I’m not a trend. I don’t live myself in a sexual contact, I live myself 24/7, 365 days a year. There is nothing verbal, auditory or visual to express the charge and intensity of the emotional chaos. The continuum of change is constant, inexorable.

There are those in the extreme who will counter, explain that I am exaggerating, fantasizing, seeking attention, I do not exist because I can either be one or the other, that I cannot be indefinite. And I learned to separate myself and say to myself: No, you are not my being. No, you have not lived my life. No, you do not know me.

I love the centre, that wonderful place of openness and understanding.

Equilibrium.