Our LGBTQ+ Home

Coming Out

This is it. Today's the day. I've been working up the courage to come out to my parents that I'm transgender for a while now. I haven't started my transition yet, obviously, considering if I looked like a boy, my parents would begin questioning me.

I guess I've never really felt like a real girl. I mean, sure, I played with dolls, and played dress up, but that was only because there were no action figures for me to play with. Whenever my friends and I would play "house", I always wanted to be the boy. They never questioned it, we were just kids. We were told we could be whoever we wanted to be. But I guess that's not the case considering there are so many hate crimes against people who grew up to be who they wanted to be, who they felt comfortable being.

I get up from my bed, straightening out my t-shirt. I breathe in, and out. I wish I didn't have to do this. But this is the only way I'll be able to be... me.

I walk down the steps of my house. The wood creaks beneath my weight.

"Mom? Dad?" I call.

My mom comes out of the kitchen, wearing an apron.

"Yes, Emily?" she asks. I cringe at the sound of my birth name.

"Could I.. talk to you and Dad about something important that's been on my mind for a while?" my voice shakes a bit.

"Yeah, of course you can. Let me get your father and we'll discuss whatever you want to talk about."

She leaves the room. I go to the living room and sit down on the couch. I feel a sudden weight on my chest, that I can't get rid of.

A few minutes later, my mom emerges from the kitchen once more, followed by my dad.

"Hey honey, what's on your mind?" he asks, plopping down on the chair opposite from me. My mom sits on the armrest of his chair.

"Well... you know how I wanted to get my hair cut short a few weeks ago?" I start, trying to ease them into this.

"Yes, but why would you want to cut your beautiful hair?" my mom inquires.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Listen. Ever since I was a little kid, I knew I wasn't... like the other girls. I don't really feel like a girl, actually. I.. um," my eyes start to water a bit, but I don't want to cry in front of my parents. "I feel like a boy. And I am a boy. I'm transgender."

My head falls, I don't want to see their reactions.

A quiet gasp escapes my mom's lips. My dad stands up and throws his hands in the air.

"I did not  raise a boy! Do you hear me, Emily? You are not a boy. You are a girl, and you have always been a girl! You know what.. get out. Just leave. And don't come back!" my father yells. He pulls my mom's arm and takes her out of the room.

The tears that I've been keeping in finally spill out.

This is what I was afraid of.

***

I'm now in my bathroom, my head in my hands, and tears flowing down my face.

I have a pair of scissors in my hands. I do my best to cut off all my long hair until its up to my ears. From there, I proceed to to clean up the messier bits to make it look a little better.

Once I'm happy with my new haircut, I open the cabinet and pull out some Ace bandages. I wrap them around my chest so it looks flatter. Then I go back into my room.

(*DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT USE ACE BANDAGES IF YOU ARE GOING TO BIND. THEY ARE VERY DANGEROUS, AND IF YOU WEAR THEM FOR TOO LONG, YOUR RIBS CAN BREAK. If you're going to use anything, please get a binder. If you can't afford one, there are many websites where they sell binders for free. Private message me if you would like to know them.*)

I pull an old backpack out of my closet and stuff some of my favorite clothes in it. I pack pairs of socks, underwear, and anything else that I'll need. I take my phone and its charger and open my window. I throw my backpack out and it hits the ground with a soft thud. Thankfully, my bedroom is on the first floor, so its not much of a pain to jump out. Just a few feet.

From there, I'm running until I can't see my house anymore.