I'm Not An Innocent

So over the last few years I've heard that I'm "adorable"....like a lot.

Over the past few months it's become almost like a mantra. That I'm adorable and sweet and cute.

I always blush and splutter when I hear these things, because while everyone sees the man who struggled with his identity and sexuality, the man who once lived in the delusional mindset that he could live his life as a woman to satisfy people that couldn't really care less if he was happy and sane or not, I always see the man who screwed up a lot.

I see the young teenager who was a hardcore drug addict by the time he was thirteen, the one who was an alcoholic by the time he was twelve.

I see the young teenager who was raped, repeatedly over the course of his life, who suffered trauma at the age of 4.

I see the young teenager who lied, stole, got in fights constantly.

I see the young man who turned off his emotions years ago when his fiance died and is only just now turning them back on.

I see the teenager who skipped school, who got high and who had to drink in excess just to make it through the day sometimes.

I see the broken young man who is only now becoming whole again.

I don't think that makes me "adorable" or "sweet." I'm a patchwork human being. Broken, but not destroyed. Pieced together. Fused into one functioning person, with scars displayed quite prominently.

I'm not innocent, I'm me.

So, while I don't begrudge people looking at me and seeing the humble, adorable "young" man (c'mon peeps, shocking as it is, I'm almost 30), who, for some reason, either makes people want to sub for him or protect him, I also don't understand why they don't understand why I look at them crazy when they do so.

Can't they see the wounds? The scars? The gashes? The ones that are slowly healing but aren't completely healed just yet? Should I be offended that they can't or should I keep smiling and saying thank you when they call me adorable?


-Vicktor Aleksandr B.