Original subtitles

I leaked the picture.

No. You're kidding.

Why?

Do you hate me that much?

Pauline...

I wanted to understand why you hurt so much.

I promise, I didn't mean to.

It was an accident.

It was Alex.

He looked through my phone.

He wanted to delete some pictures of us.

That was all.

Alex?

You've slept with him?

It was horrible.

You're beautiful.

It was sad.

I deserved it.

Wait, has he raped you?

He's taken advantage!

We need to go to the police, seriously!

I told you not to trust him!

He didn't rape me.

I asked him.

I wanted him for myself.

I wanted something for myself, for once.

I wanted someone to look at me, not you.

And I could give him something that you couldn't.

I exist as well! I'm here, I'm right in front of you, Alex.

Look at me!

I'm sorry.

But, Pauline...

Nothing's going to happen.

Leave me alone!

He didn't even want to touch me.

The rape, Sasha, the attempted rape...

it's your story, not mine.

Happy birthday to you!

Mum, look!

Will you and I stay the same?

I can't do it without you.

Here we are! Nice pizza!

Well done!

No hitting!

It'll be all right.

Everything will be fine.

I'm here.

ABOUT SASHA

Sasha Dalca?

Hello.

- We know this is stressful. - I'm ready.

We're listening.

How do you define the living?

First, by classifying it.

Sorting creatures from the smallest to the biggest,

the plankton,

the horse, the whale.

A horse has vertebrae.

Plankton does not.

First criterion used to define the living:

what has, what doesn't have.

An arbitrary criterion,

creating a hierarchy of beings.

Second criterion used to define the living:

sex.

Male on the one side,

female on the other.

Males

and females.

This brings us to sexuality.

Third criterion used:

the reproductive function.

Survival of the species through breeding.

Fertility.

My name is Sasha Dalca and I don't fit any of these criteria.

Sorry, but I think that the topic is...

I don't fit any of them.

And yet I am living, as much as you.

What do you see in me?

You see the projection of what you want to see in me.

You see someone that science, classification

and society did not think of.

Someone who doesn't exist.

What is between my legs does not fit

what society has defined as female

or male.

I don't fit anywhere.

I was taught that I am a freak of nature.

I am unacceptable.

I do not have the right to live.

I am less than human.

I was made to believe I am a monster.

I do not belong in the space

created by society.

I'm a monster that must be squashed, like a pathetic bug.

I've heard you.

I've paid attention.

I wanted to tear my body apart.

To dig a hole into it.

I wanted the monster gone.

To fix me, my body was made into a public spectacle.

Something that doesn't belong to me.

It was bared, measured, photographed,

operated on, emptied out like a carcass,

desacralised.

It was taken over, valued for its healing.

It was objectified,

fetishised.

I did not feel the pain

since I could not feel my body.

I saw nothing in the mirror.

I was waiting to be fixed.

To be operated on.

To be saved.

So you might love me.

So I might be allowed to live.

But if the monster was gone, I'd be gone too.

I mistook my body for my own truth.

You want to know what's between my legs.

To see the monster.

I'll be the monster.

From Latin monstrare, the one who shows.

I show myself to you.

Anna's helped me see.

I don't know who sent the texts,

but press charges.

For that, for the assault.

I'll testify for you.

I'll stand in the way of your clean consciences.

I'll reflect the edges of normalcy.

I'll challenge you.

I might terrorise you.

My very existence will be visceral for you.

Nightmarish.

"Am I normal?"

I will disturb you.

It's a start.

It means you acknowledge my existence.

Other people...

they won't change straight away.

It's up to me

to be strong,

to cope on my own,

to stop being afraid.

I will no longer be a victim.

I will no longer be a victim,

nor you my torturers.

But I don't want your pity.

I'm too daring for that.

I don't want to be a model.

I'm too aware of my fragility.

I am not a myth.

I am not an imaginary creature.

What you see as a disorder, biological chaos,

I make it into my greatest strength.

Now I will be my own genesis.

Chapter 1.

Verse 1.

Yes, I'm terrified.

But I am taking the risk.

The risk of being wrong,

of falling, of hurting.

Hurting means living.

I am not rare.

Now I'm reaching out to those like me.

My salvation requires a community and action.

So our stories stop happening.

So we have a place in society.

My body is operational.

No more mutilations.

I refute the norms invented by doctors.

My body will be as it should be: lovable.

My sex is not a public matter.

It will cost me.

But it will be worth it.

My name is Sasha Dalca.

I am not a girl and not a boy.

I am neither.

I am both.

I haven't decided yet.

Maybe I never will.

Maybe I'll change along the way.

Someone with the same biological reality

could be a woman, a man, or non-binary.

Someone with the same reality

could be my polar opposite.

I'm choosing to be me.

Someone you can't classify or label.

A work in progress.

Maybe chaotic.

But you need some chaos

to give birth to a dancing star.

We are the result of a slow, fortuitous evolution

of over 4.5 billion years.

Humans are transitional animals.

Not the culmination of creation.

Even though we think we'll live forever,

like those dying stars whose light we can still see,

we only exist for a flutter of butterfly wings.

The world started without us.

It will end without us.

In the dark void of space,

like miraculous castaways

enclosed in a thin, moving, surprisingly frail shell of life,

where all of human comedy plays out,

all of our tragedies...

our longing for eternity makes us send probes

out into the cosmos,

to see earthrises.

We are all the result of stardust

dreaming up the sublime chaos that is us.

We all come from the same quantum matrix.

From the same intertwining atoms.

We all belong to the same crew,

a crew of more than 6 billion.

We all belong to the living,

in its infinity of variations.

We are microgrooves

in an infinite ocean of waves,

linked and entangled

in the same matter we are made of.

Destined to blend into each other

in perpetual renewal.

Tomorrow, I'll be a flower bud,

a beetle,

a star.

I'm going through life.

There is no tragedy, no joy,

no time.

None of that matters.

My very life is but a dream.

A dream of stars dreaming about themselves,

repeating itself into infinity.

Again and again

and again...

From dusk 'til time immemorial.

I am not alone.

I am everything.

I am endless,

gigantic, expanding,

infinitesimal,

insignificant,

indestructible, all-powerful.

But we've forgotten all that.

That dizzying truth.

We've classified, sorted, labelled things.

We've opposed words, concepts, things.

We've made up good and evil,

black and white,

female and male.

We've cut the world in two.

We've forgotten nuances

and those dancing stars,

despite their beauty,

so unique, so precious.

My name is Sasha Dalca

and I'm intersex.

And you,

who are you?