Kamali's Home for the Lost

Prologue

My name is Oakley Nova and the day I decided to come out to my parents was one of the worst days of my life. As a sophomore in college I had already been out as Female to Male transgender on campus for almost two years. My roommate was super nice and comfortable with rooming with me. I was able to get my first ever hair cut (even if it was a pixie cut at the time) and my friends helped me get a few sets of male clothing.

I had a lot of t-shirts from 14 years of playing soccer so I mostly needed shorts and pants. I had also been secretly buying boxers for a few years and while I only had 5 pairs it was a great start. I was able to shop online and have clothing and supplies shipped to school without having to worry about my parents finding out.

My roommate Emma helped me pick my new name, Oakley, and we told my RA and got a second door tag. We had to switch it back to my old name when my parents visited but it was the happiest time of my life. I emailed all my professors that I would like for them to use Oakley and he/him pronouns for me and they were all amazing about it.

My academic advisor in the Psychology department was also the only openly gay professor so I felt safe talking with him first. He helped me write the email and even ordered me my first chest binder. For the first time in a long time I felt happy. I had made new friends, found a subject that I love and felt I could thrive in this environment.

The summer between first year and second was strained because I had cut my hair but because it was still "a girls" haircut my parents were forced to let it go. I thought about coming out to them that summer but I kept backing out. I figured when I go back to school I can send a letter explaining everything and be safely away from the confrontation. I know my parents would never hit me but that does not stop them from emotionally abusing me.

When I sent the letter in the mail I was so afraid that I had to go see the campus counselors because my anxiety was causing me to be sick. My anxiety disorder got worse throughout that year because of the fight I had with my parents when they called me.

I was also diagnosed with a form of an eating disorder this semester. I have always had problems with eating, being extremely picky and never being able to eat a lot. As I grew up I noticed that the more I weighed the bigger my chest seemed to get. I have just started doing daily push ups to try and mold my chest muscles and decrease the size of my chest. While doing that I was back to eating extremely small amounts at each meal and having constant nausea from my anxiety has not been helping. I lost 15 pounds, putting me back at 103 pounds at 5' 7". I am underweight but I noticed that my chest has not grown.

I had tried to be okay but they told me that I would no longer be welcome at home and that they will find something to help fix me. I am scared to reach out to my older siblings because while I do not think they will have a problem with it, they are staying at home until they can find their own place. My brother Matthew reached out to me in his support which meant a lot to me.

That led me to where I am now, sitting in the back of my dad's car after moving out of the form for the year, driving to who knows where. They would not tell me just that they hoped I would be fixed there. The drive was only about twenty minutes from my college. When we pulled in I couldn't help but have a silent panic attack. I didn't know where I was, who I was meeting and what the place would be like. 

AN: Let me know what you think. Sorry if this is bad