Leo's Story

Chapter 3 It's an Addiction

I continued cutting ever since I've started. My whole arms are covered in dried out and recovering cuts. When I moved onto my left arm because there was no more space on my right, it was the moment when I realised it was time to hide. I wore long sleeves around the house, I wore a jumper as often as I could've. When my parents left the home, I'd run through my mom's make up and drop on foundation and just pretty much anything to cover up my arms. The real challenge has begun.

Now we're in present day. Most people know I'm bisexual but I also identify as Trans*. Bigender is probably the closest thing I feel, but I've found out about the term 'trans*' and prefer to use that. So a few people know that too, and are comfortable with using gender neutral pronouns for me, and also calling me Leo instead of Amelia. Things have smoothed out. Well, slightly.

I thought I had it all nicely sorted out until when me and my mom were walking through town and I asked her a question.
"How is it so that women are allowed to wear trousers while men aren't allowed to wear dresses or skirts?"
Her answer wasn't simple, neither was it easy to swallow.

She explained how society messed things up (which I agree with because society upsets me a lot), but then moved onto saying how you can't even tell the difference between a man and a woman anymore because people keep messing around with nature. She also said "Have money, yeah why not mess up nature, oh and don't ask me about what's in their pants!" If that wasn't enough, she said if you're born a girl, then you stay a girl and same with boys. And she had no idea she's talking about her own trans* child.
Now that tore me apart. The thoughts and pain that healed ripped open again and struck me like never before. I've cut both of my arms, punched jagged walls, dragged scissors across my knuckles and even starved. It might seem like a bit much, but I've had enough. And the worst thing is, I'm starting to heal again, but now I'm stuck with an addiction. Oh boy, I won't be healed up for quite some time; I know I'm ruining myself. Yet it's hard to resist.