It's never occurred to me much how my day to day life is affected by my condition and upbringing due to it. Imagine a life.
Imagine a life where buying your own underwear makes you sweat and tremble, where you circle the store a good four times to make your choice without having to stand there before discreetly picking it up off the shelf. You walk to the counter with a plastic confidence, like you've done this all your life. The cashier asks if that would be all, your voice is shaky so you nod and swallow back the lump in your dry throat. The transaction is done and you leave the store, giddy in the stomach and light in your steps. God forbid anyone see what you just bought, because for you to have the nerve to buy it, you, a half breed, you, undeserving. That's what your brain tells you anyway. But you did it. You bought underwear.
Small steps.
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