35 my face rejects it as if my skin has a mind of its own . As if it physically pushes the foundation away , it smears . It ’ s a mask . Not mine . Now I ’ m raw , pimples and all . I don ’ t mind it . I ’ m actually happy without makeup ? Aren ’ t I suppose to want it ? Depend on it ? I guess I ’ m just not meant to be a copy and paste . I start searching , searching , searching . My face is lit up by my phone screen . The bags under my eyes start forming over time . Searching . Searching as to why I reject this category I so desperately need to be in . Searching . Searching for what this feeling is . I see it . For the first time . A binder . I start to find myself : “ Trans ” “ how to put on a binder ” “ my top surgery journey ”