I was 14. It was the examination day for our red cross certificate. I arrived early and sat on one of the tables with my morning coffee, staring through the window. It was a sunny day.
She came second. We had a friendly chat that quickly turned to an ugly politics discussion. The world was harshly divided to factions back then; she was left, and I was right.
At the midst of the heated discussions our friends arrived. She completely absorbed me throughout the day. At some point, she did ballet stretches on the floor and the thought slipped to my head.
How jealous I am of her.
I started following Shtag on Facebook.
She always beat me in political discussions but I couldn't join her faction. The only reason I was so argumentative became to some extent I wanted her to heal me, show me how to be her.
Blue eyes and wavy hair, round soft body figure. Her mind crystal and sharp, pure, only wishing good for the world. Pictures from gay pride parades and protests.
The narrative that women should heal the grotesque beasts of the world is wrong but understandable. Our society rarely teaches them these things from a young age, so they come to seek human warmth at the realm most talked to them about - the sexual and romantic.
Back then my mind was incapable of being left. I wanted to be compassionate and embracing, but something stopped me from seeing the logic.
The transition in mindset occurred alongside my gender transition and at times I fear that I implement the same biases I had back then. That my ideological inclinations are just me embracing my other gender. Still though, even back then I couldn't stand lack of empathy, cruelness. But I was a sucker for nonsensical data about race, free market, sexual essentialism and violence.
I remember my first attempts at thinking about my femininity was out of evolutionary psychology. How I tried to rationalize the power and beauty of being female.
The attempt to derive everything from first principals.
To some extent, the primary reason I allowed myself to transition was out of the growing conviction of the absurdity of my past views.
Followed from reading more philosophy of science, Wittgensteinian thought, etc.
What I want to say is that this tension between the person I want to be and the person I am been prevalent throughout my life.
I chose my name - Amabilis, because it signifies what I want to be.
Classic European. Loveable, both by me and by others.
There were always obstacles that blocked me.
With Shtag it was my mind.
When I was 22 and the entire thing with my mom started, it was the need of my family for a strong, reliable parental figure.
Then, that I lived in a Balkanic conservative country.
My 'proper life' and the other.
In the other I was a radical left, I went to BDSM parties; I enjoyed the taste of blood in my mouth, protested the oppression of prostitutes.
In the actual life I was a family 'man'.
When I arrived in the UK, I shed tears of joy.
I am finally free; I thought.
But it wasn't the case. For the first two years, I lived with my brother.
My trans clothes hid in the closet.
This duality continued. He studies mathematics; I study mathematics and philosophy.
In math lectures, I wear a heavy coat, in philosophy lectures I'm all out with a pastel sweater and a black skirt.
Every slight chance to be out is a glimpse of freedom.
And then there's my room.
I just moved to my new flat, away from him, and all those things that had to shy away from are now visible. I placed my makeup kit, pencils, Lolita utensils, looked at the room and surreal freedom caught up to me.
From the army to the current times, life was a constant struggle to self identify and become who I am.
At times I win, for instance when I started living my alternative life,
At times I lose, for instance when I had to flee to Serbia.
And while I struggle and suffer, I cannot be pessimistic, because I always have something to win back.
