Loss is an inevitability in life. Everyone of us experiences loss throughout our lives, from the frustration of a stolen 20$ bill, to the heartrending loss of a loved one. Loss leads us to feel frustrated, powerless, angry, and in pain.
Earlier today I was having a conversation with some friends, and in a bout of silliness I realized some losses of my own. I was being silly and dramatic and I ended up roleplaying like a middle school girl on the playground. I realized I will never be able to go back and re-experience growing up as a woman. I will never have memories as a girl talking with high school friends, youthful slumber parties, or my first period. Instead, I will always have my memories as an invader in a world in which I didn't belong but tried my damnedest to fit into.
I grew up seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly of what it means to be male. I've been privy to locker-room conversations and facets of masculinity that most men would never show if they'd realized a woman was watching them. While much of it is the foolish fantasies and bravado of juveniles, I've seen this "forbidden world" for myself. In spite of the exposure, I never truly understand what drove these boys who we're supposed to be my peers. They could be cruel, boastful, and were regularly obsessed with proving how tough they were. Even among the nerds men were still viciously competitive. Living as a male felt like a constant battle for supremacy, where victory was everything, and to lose meant falling prey to condescension, bullying, and sometimes worse. I taught myself to play their game, even though I hated it. I tasted the thrill of victory, the spoils of war, and the shame of defeat, and felt empty through it all. I tried to rationalize myself to it all, saying that competition made me better, stronger, faster, but I couldn't help but wonder about those tread down along the way, and the efficiency lost from fighting when we could be working together. Even when boys would work together on teams, clubs, groups, or gangs, the competition would be everything. Rather than friendly sport, rivalries were often vicious, violent, and ugly.
I'm going to take a moment and apologize to all of the guys the above statement does not apply to. There are guys out there who are far less aggressive than their peers. Many of them suffered bullying at the hands of their peers and turned out to pretty chill dudes. I also apologize because as a girl in a boy's world many of my experiences are colored by that light, which sometimes means I view things in a way that's a bit more critical and negative than reality with regards to men. My experiences with my father and grandfather certainly did not help my perceptions of men.
Fortunately, by the end of high school/the beginning of college guys became more tolerable as responsibility, relationships, and brain development kicked in more. I learned that guys could be caring, protective, reliable, and generous. These kinds of traits are ones I felt good trying to emulate, and I'm proud to have them as a part of who I am today.
It's hard for me not to look back and wonder how life would have different if I was born properly as a cute little girl, or even if I had been able to address my dysphoria at puberty instead of 10 years later. Though at the same time, without the experiences I've been through, especially the painful and difficult ones, I wouldn't be the woman I am today.
In conclusion, we often think of our tangible losses, but those losses of opportunity can sometimes be equally as painful to think about. In the end though, the things that we gain along the way are often of immense value, and the secondary value of loss is that through loss, we learn how precious and valuable what we do have is.
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