When I was a child and I did something with great enthusiasm and vitality and, of course, correctly, they would address me with approving look as “boyish,” and I would understand that being a man is closer to correctness and perfection. During puberty, I distanced myself by force from my childhood friends, who were mostly boys, and began to hide a part of myself that seemed embarrassing, impure, and forbidden.
A considerable portion of my energy was spent concealing the disapproved aspects of my existence and creating similarities with men who seemed symbols of strength and health, even though my heart beat femininely.
Perhaps I still haven’t completely healed from that attempt to rid myself of femininity.
