To This Day I'm Asking Why I Still Think About You

Im Not Part Of Your Elite Im Just Alright

"Why are people dicks?" I asked, hitting my fist on the table in frustration. "All anyone wants to comment on Instagram is how I'm not really a guy and how my chest doesn't look natural and how I'm just a confused girl. I'm fucking sick of these people."

My dad, Billie Joe Armstrong, looked up at me. He could tell it was making me upset, mostly pissed of, but sorta depressed. He grabbed my hand. "Ender, look at me", he instructed softly. "Look up at me so I know you're listening."

I slowly lifted my head so I was looking into his eyes. "Ender James Andrew Armstrong, you are one of the strongest and bravest people I know. You're a great guy. Yeah, sure, you were born physically female, but fuck that. It doesn't make you any less of a man. People will always say shit. Unfortunately, we live in a world with extremely bigoted, homophobic, racist, and transphobic people, but it'll all be okay. I promise."

Dad held my hand and he cocked his head to the side when tears started rolling down my face. "Come here, buddy", he whispered, he used his foot to push my chair back from the dining room table and he opened his arms. "It's okay to cry."

He licked me up from my chair and carried my to the living room. He sat on the couch and put me in his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and held me while I cried. "People suck, dad", I cried.

"I know, buddy, but one day you'll realize that what they say doesn't mean anything", dad whispered.

"But it hurts dad", I replied, using my fists to wipe my eyes. Dad stopped me and used his hand to softly wipe the tears from my face. "Words fucking hurt."

"I know it hurts", he told me. I cried harder. "I love you, Ender. Your mom loves you, Jake and Joey love you. You just have to love yourself and then words won't just as much."

"It's hard to l-love yourself when all you see when you look in the mirror is all the wrong things", I claimed.

"It's not wrong, it's just different. You'll get there eventually, it just takes time", dad whispered. "It takes time Ender. It sucks, it really does. But all the best things are worth waiting for."

I started crying even harder. Not even out of sadness, but out of frustration. "It's not fucking fair!" I screamed. I started picking at the skin around my fingers and pulling at my hair.

"Stop that", dad instructed. He held my hands and let me cry into his chest. It's was kinda weird to have an emotional breakdown this early in the day. It was only 8:30 am. We were still in our pajamas, which for us consisted of pajama pants and no shirt.

"I'm really glad that you and mom adopted me", I whispered. "Im really lucky to have such supportive parents. I love you guys."

"We love you too", dad told me. "Calm down buddy, if you keep crying that hard, you'll make yourself feel worse."

I cried softly into his chest for a few more minutes until I finally stopped. Dad kissed my forehead and sing songs to me until I completely calmed down. "You wanna take a walk to mom's work?" He asked. "You don't have to wear a shirt. I mean, you have to wear a shirt when we get there, but not whole were walking."

I smiled. Walking around without a shirt on always lessened my gender dysphoria since I got top surgery. "Go get dressed and we'll leave."

I went up to my bedroom and put on a pair of swimming trunks, knowing that a walk to mom's work almost always consisted of going to the beach. My swimming trunks were black and had pockets. I always wear boxer-briefs under my swimming trunks due to this weird incident that happened the year before, but that's not important. I grabbed my backpack and put my shirt that I was gonna wear to mom's work in it and went downstairs and put a bottle of sunscreen and some water bottles in it.

"Ready to go, Ender?" Dad asked, smiling at me. I nodded and we left, heading to mom's work.