The world’s first legally-declared “nonbinary” person tells a heartbreaking tale of dysfunction, maladjustment, and misery.
Four years ago, I wrote about my decision to live as a woman in The New York Times, writing that I had wanted to live “authentically as the woman that I have always been,” and had “effectively traded my white male privilege to become one of America’s most hated minorities.”
Three years ago, I decided that I was neither male nor female, but nonbinary—and made headlines after an Oregon judge agreed to let me identify as a third sex, not male or female.
Now, I want to live again as the man that I am.
I’m one of the lucky ones. Despite participating in medical transgenderism for six years, my body is still intact. Most people who desist from transgender identities after gender changes can’t say the same.
But that’s not to say I got off scot-free. My psyche is eternally scarred, and I’ve got a host of health issues from the grand medical experiment.
Sorry, but I got myself a very strong hunch your psyche was “eternally scarred” right from jump, bub.
In fact, if you read the whole thing (and you should) it’s evident that this poor tormented schmuck is pretty much a total dumpster fire when it comes to mental health, and probably always will be. I hope he can somehow get it together someday, at least to some reasonable degree, but I doubt it’s gonna happen.