A small snippet that may-be-fictional-may-not-be about seeking men's attention (although hating that)

I guess I never admitted to myself how much men’s perspectives about me matter so much, even though since childhood all I wanted was a man’s attention. I don’t know if it’s a pseudo freudian desire developed by growing up with an absent, shitty father, or perhaps just this heteronormative society imposing itself on me, but it’s still a reality, one I still struggle to accept. Because I’m ashamed that someone as progressive and feminist as me would expect any crumb of affection from men. Just thinking about it makes me feel ill.

But it’s as I said. It’s a reality.

I want to be wanted by men. Loved by them. Saw by them. But that’s not gonna happen. Because I’m black, because I’m fat, because I’m too weird, because I’m not pretty enough, because I’m not interesting enough, ain’t nothing enough. Sometimes I ask myself if I wasn’t born like this, maybe that would be different and when the answer is most likely “yeah probably”, I wish I wasn’t born at all.