#orginal writing

written in february 2026

i was born a girl,

i had the parts,

i had the chromosomes,

i had everything that made someone a girl.

cause, i was a girl.

i made myself wear dresses,

i made myself be curious about makeup,

i made myself like boys,

i made myself do all the things that girls are supposed to do,

cause i was a girl.

eventually, i realized i didn’t have to be overly feminine.

i could play a ton of video games,

i didn’t have to enjoy wearing dresses,

i didn’t have to pretend to like a boy,

i could be as masculine as i wanted

and i’d still be a girl,

cause i was a girl.

i don’t think i ever truly wanted to be a girl.

i wasn’t quite sure what it was,

i wasn’t satisfied calling myself one,

i thought that femininity was the problem.

so, i labeled myself as a tomboy.

not as a boy,

but just a girl who enjoyed masculinity,

cause i was a girl.

being a tomboy didn’t feel quite right,

i had an itch that i couldn’t fully scratch,

i didn’t mind being feminine.

i was fine with it,

i even enjoyed some aspects of it.

femininity itself was never the problem

the problem was that i was still a girl.

i was born a girl,

i had the parts,

i had the chromosomes,

i had everything that made someone a girl

except for the want to be one,

except for the feeling of being one,

cause i was not a girl.

i don’t remember when i figured it out

i think it just hit me one day,

i never had to be a girl,

i could be a boy.

so, i became a boy,

cause i was not a girl.

being a boy was so freeing,

i found a name that felt entirely like me,

i found friends who only ever knew me as a boy,

i found a person who i was entirely happy being.

and that person was a boy,

cause i was not a girl.

although, i backtracked eventually.

something happened,

something that i still don’t like to talk about.

and i didn’t want to be someone they knew,

and they knew a boy.

so i began to deny it,

i was never a boy,

it was just a phase,

cause i was not a boy and i was not a girl either.

i was fine with people seeing me as anything,

i didn’t know what i was myself,

labeling myself was too complicated,

at least that’s what i told myself,

i was whatever other people wanted me to be.

cause i was not a boy and i was not a girl either.

but, if anyone asked if i had a preference,

like really asked,

i would’ve told them if they wanted a label,

i would be a boy.

nobody ever did,

but i had that response prepared just incase.

i knew deep down, that i was still a boy,

cause i was definitely not a girl.

eventually i got tired of running from it,

i got tired of denying it.

i admitted to myself that i was right,

i was right about me being a boy,

i was right about always being one,

i was right with my labeling the first time,

which meant i was right about not being a girl.

it took me a long time to tell anyone,

i didn’t wanna ruin anything,

i didn’t wanna ruin friendships built on femininity,

i didn’t wanna ruin the way people thought of me,

i didn’t wanna ruin any dynamics with my friends,

and i was scared telling people would,

cause they would know i am not a girl.

it felt so refreshing for people to finally know,

it felt refreshing to be called by the name that i found several years ago,

it felt refreshing to be called a boy,

it felt refreshing to be known as a boy,

cause i am not a girl.

i still haven’t told all of my friends,

and i sure as hell haven’t told my family,

because i’m still scared.

i know nothing bad will happen,

i’m just too scared.

but i’ll tell more people that i’m a boy someday,

cause i am not a girl.

people still make mistakes sometimes,

and that’s fine,

i know i still look like a girl,

i know i still sound like a girl,

and i know i still have pretty feminine mannerisms,

but all of that’s fine,

cause despite that, i am not a girl.

i was born a girl,

i have the parts,

i have the chromosomes,

but i do not have the feeling of being a girl,

and i never fully had it,

“Captain, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean to bring one of them on the Orbona, that’s just asking for it.”

Daria turned to face her crew member. She looked him up and down a moment as she gathered her words. Her right hand man Adelfós stands at her side slightly behind her as he always does. She can sense the rest of the crew’s tension with their unwanted passanger. They did not take too kindly to fae, no human in their right mind did. Ever since the war with the fae, humans did their best to avoid them. But not Daria, she was hunting them.

Daria looks over to the fae bound in mixed metals, an unatural substance was out of the fae’s control. This fae was small and not too remarkable looking. That left her speceis to a wide varriety. Blood fae blended with humans very well, as did common fae, she could be a water fae using magic to hide her tail but that is unlikely. She is in a light green dress, with pink flowers scattered across it, most likely the dress of a common fae.

Daria turned back to her crew. “Do you not trust me? I have brought us this far.”

One spoke up, “we do trust you Captain, but to hold a fae on our ship.”

“Very well” Daria turns back to the fae. “What’s my name?”

“D-Daria” the fae stutters out.

“Say it louder, so all my crew can hear” she holds her sword at the fae’s throat.

“Captian Daria of Britomartis, sailor of Janus.”

Daria turns back to her men, “now do you doubt me? This fae has my name and my tale yet doesn’t hold an ounce of power over me. Aren’t you familier with the legends? You should be if you are aboard my ship. You there, tell me” she points her sword at one of her crew.

“If a fae is given a human’s name, that human is their slave and can do no harm to that fae.”

“What’s my name fae?”

“Daria-”

Daria swiftly swings her sword with precision. Her cutlasse draws golden blood from the fae’s neck, the cut is shallow enough not to do any lasting damage. She glaces at the blood, the golden color confirms her suspissions, this is a common fae. They are not dangerous out on the seas, because they control the land. There isn’t any plants close enough for the fae to reach.

“I hurt her, although she has my name. The fae has no power over me. Now do you doubt me? Do you wish for us to throw our only lead to Arcadia overboard?”

“No Captian” the crew say in awe and fear.

“Good. Throw her in the brig.”

Daria walks away towards her private quarters, Adelfós follows. She can reconizes his footsteps anywhere, she could tell all her crew apart by just the sound of their boots. She doesn’t bother to look over her should to adress him, or even to stop him. He has been in her quarters many a times, it was his privilege as her first mate and best friend.

The heavy wooden door creeks open. Daria goes to her desk and spins the chair around to face her bed. She sits down and finally looks over to Adelfós. He is closing the door behind them, then he takes a seat on her bed. He has that worried look in his eyes, but at least he has respect not to question a captian in front of their crew.

“You know that only worked because that fae is a baby.”

“I know, but they don’t.”

“And when they find out?”

“We will be home before then.”

“They won’t like that you trick and lie to them.”

“What other choice do I have? We have been looking for Arcadia for years, I can’t let them throw our lead overboard.”

“But the loyalty of the crew matters too, maybe we can slow this down a bit-”

“Slow this down? The fae stole my heart. I will be getting it back, no matter the costs.” She stands up and opens the door.

"What do you want to be when you grown up?"

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Why?"

I. Don't. Know.

After every hang-out, your closest friend always walks home. No matter how far it is. After a late hang-out you offer to walk back with them. What you hadn't expected was your friends reputation and experience on their walks home.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Thanks for Reading!

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! 𝑰'𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅! 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑨𝑰. 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑨𝑰

Why do we need to be seen so badly through other people’s eyes?

Why do we chase validation from people who have not even done the work to truly see themselves?

Why is it so hard to stand in front of our own reflection and accept the beauty in us, the battles we survived, the strength it took to become who we are?

Why do we keep handing our character, our mind, our softness, our power, to people who cannot even hold their own?

Why do we let someone else have so much power over us, just because they gave us a tiny hit of dopamine that made us feel like we were finally becoming something—

when we already are.

The only validation you truly need when you look in the mirror is from the child inside you.

She is staring back at you. He is staring back at you.

Not asking to be impressed. Not asking to be chosen. Just asking the adult version of you to finally see them, to value them, to stop placing their worth in the hands of people who were never there for the child you once were.

Stop giving strangers power over a soul they did not help build.

The mirror was never asking you to be more.

The door creaks open, and my mom finally steps outside.

It’s about time.

. I’ve been waiting all night for her to pay attention to me.

I trot down the steps with the dignity this household deserves. My fluffy black and white tail held high. My mom follows behind me, the leash in her hand like she's in charge. She is not.Well, not always.

Wait why did she stop. 

I glance back as my mom leans over to fix her shoe. My leash is pulling at my neck as I try to rush forward.

Noooo she better not stop. I need this walk.

My tail stops wagging as I move a little closer to her to make sure she’s okay. She straightens and throws a small object on the ground. Her tan shoe goes back on her foot.

“Come on, Nati Bo,” she says in that annoying voice I’ve come to love.

Finally,

I race forward toward the grassy area. I smell onions, peppers, and some other rotten food in the big green food container by my spot.

The grass distracts me, and I finally find a good spot to relieve myself. Suddenly I smell something suspicious. My eyes focus on a brown patch nearby.

Oh no! A small animal is near, 

It’s tall ears point towards me but he hasn’t noticed us yet.

I crouch down and walk very slowly towards the suspicious pointy eared animal. 

I must protect my mom.

The approach must be slow, but, when we get close, the attack will be fast.

“Nati, no!” my mom's voice sounds. “Leave that poor bunny alone, let’s go inside.”

I was so close!

I try to resist the pull of the annoying ring around my neck, but alas my mom will win again.

"Do you want a treat buddy?” my mom asks softly as we walk towards our teal door.

think one of the biggest lies we're told is that people know themselves.

I don't think most people do.

I think most people know their routines

Their preferences.

Their habits

Their favorite coffee order.

Their favorite songs.

But knowing yourself?

That's different.

Knowing yourself is knowing who you become when everything you use to distract yourself disappears.

Most people never stay in the room long enough to meet that person.

I Wrote Myself Back Into This Body