I Was Revered For Being Cruel And Angry. Then I Tore Off That Mask — And Was Swiftly Punished.

I used to believe that cruelty made me powerful.

When I presented as male, I knew how to raise my voice to end an argument, how to slam a door hard enough to jolt someone into silence, how to throw or break something I owned so I wouldn’t have to face what I was really feeling. The world rewarded me for these performances. People called me confident, strong and authoritative. Some even revered me.

I wasn’t strong. I was terrified.

Behind every outburst was a child who had buried her truth so deeply that all that remained was anger. I didn’t know how to be vulnerable, so I clung to control. I didn’t know how to say I was afraid, so I became the kind of man who forced everyone else to be frightened of me.

And for years, I got away with it. That’s what privilege does: it makes harm invisible.