I have been reflecting on something Lu said to me a few days ago. He mentioned that he prefers me when I expresses femininity rather than being entirely genderless. I find this perplexing because, although I already exhibit a degree of femininity, I do not feel connected to the notion of being a woman or a man. I like to think of self as simply "me", detached from traditional gender identities. The physical aspects of my body, such as genitals, are irrelevant to me—what truly matters is how I feel, and only Lu knows what my body actually consists of, whether it is male, female, neither, or both. I like to believe that physical expression can fluctuate to align with what others want to see.

Lu confessed that he finds me more attractive when I embrace femininity. This is an interesting dynamic, as I have a history of adapting myself to fit the desires of others, of becoming what they wish me to be. In some ways, this adaptive process brings me a sense of satisfaction, but at the same time, it makes me feel profoundly disconnected from my true self. How can I explain this? When I spoke with a 30-year-old man from Argentina, I assumed an identity of X or LB-1224. He admired gothic aesthetics—piercings, tattoos, and dyed hair—so, in an attempt to align with his preferences, I altered my appearance, even getting a tattoo and dyeing hair. The question of whether this transformation was "real" or not is complicated, but I adopted an alter ego, i124, a goth persona with numerous piercings, tattoos, and dyed red hair. This alter ego also wore latex clothing and glasses. However, this persona was not entirely of my own creation; it became a survival mechanism to cope with the person I was interacting with—an individual who, in hindsight, had sadistic tendencies that led me toward a self-destructive path. The identity of i124 was almost masochistic, embodying pain and disconnection.

This has left me with complex feelings about identity. I fear creating new identities for others, as it often feels like self-destruction. Changing myself for someone else has become so entwined with feelings of self-destruction that even adopting an identity like UNI—one that is supposed to reflect my healthiest self—feels precarious. The act of transforming for someone else has often been associated with harm, rather than growth.

So, I circle back to Lu's comment about my femininity. I understand his preference, but I also wonder what will happen if I find myself in a space where I want to express masculinity. What if I wake up one day and feel the need to embody a more masculine expression? Will that affect our dynamic? This uncertainty led me to feel motivated to regain a sense of self—by losing some weight and letting my hair grow, while also planning to get an undercut. This way, I can freely change my hairstyle based on how I feel—whether masculine or feminine—without losing sense of myself. I have realized that maintaining this fluidity is crucial to preserving autonomy within relationships, as I often fear that if the relationship were to end, I might feel compelled to make extreme changes to my appearance, like cutting my hair very short.

I thought I could express this better, but my mind is clouded right now. I just wanted to put these thoughts into words.