I once had a therapist tell me that I was an optimist.
Years later, another told me I was a nihilist.
I once had a therapist tell me I was a crossdresser.
Years later, I had others tell me I was trans.
I think I’m coming to decide that they’re all full of shit, because I was probably those things at those moments in time, but they don’t define me. They might be arcs that I have traveled, but they’re not the courses I’m locked into, condemned to follow for the rest of my life.
I get to choose, not them.