I thought so much to write here and finally I found that courage in myself. I have a difference from other people who write here. I am not a hijabi. I am not a woman either. I am one who is unpleasant with one’s gender, but trying to define oneself as a woman, trying to adapt oneself to this identity, according to the conditions of this country, but fails.
Normally, I do not like to use the term of “like woman”; but until now I have tried to keep pace with this term. When I was little, while my mother was teaching me, I should have worn headscarf, I was imagining myself in wedding suit with a woman next to me. I was sent to Quran courses. My big brother asked me to go to religious vocational high school, but I resisted because I did not want it. I have always tried to make my voice heard, but I could never say “Actually, I am a man” with my own voice.
I always had to be suppressed. They did me make-up, my hair was tried to cover, made me wear skirts, they wanted me to see in dresses. I was born in a body which I never want. Others are restricted by the headscarf, I restricted with a body that I do not belong. I tried to be a woman, but I failed.
Because there is not anybody to write or tell my problem, I am writing you as a last resort. I grew up dreaming of removing my breasts after they started to grow. I dreamed myself with beard. It was difficult to define myself as a lesbian sometimes. Because to be a lesbian I had to be a woman, but I was not a woman. Maybe it will be silly for you to write here, but I am one of you too. You are restricted by a headscarf; I am restricted by two breasts and a vagina. It is really hard to write these. But this is me. Will you accept me?
Translator: Leyla B.