He was six years old when he realized that he didn't like his hair. He didn't like the fact that it was so long, he wanted it short but his father wouldn't have it.
"You're a girl, you can't have your hair short. You'll look like a boy."
At the time he accepted it. He was a girl, so he thought maybe he could just learn to live with it.
He was eight years old when he realized that he didn't like dresses. He thought they were annoying and it made him feel gross to wear one. Eventually, his father let him stop wearing them. He still bought him girly clothes though.
"No, you can't get that! That's for boys! Come look over here at these cute shirts."
He felt angry that he couldn't wear the clothes he wanted but he was relieved that he didn't have to wear a dress.
He was nine years old when he realized he didn't like playing "like a girl." He didn't want to be a princess in danger or a mother raising her children. He wanted to be a boy. He played with the boys and they let him. They went easy on him, because he was a girl, but he held his own and proved he was their equal.
His father did not approve.
"You're a girl! You need to act like one! Stop pretending to be something your not!"
He didn't know why he did at the time, but he sobbed in his bed that night.
He was ten when he realized he wasn't a girl. He was trapped in a form that his father forced him into, forced him to be. He was a boy, he wanted to look how he felt but he couldn't talk to his father. No, he couldn't do that. Maybe his mother?
He was ten when his mother died.
YOU ARE READING
I'm Alive
General FictionIt has always been hard for Joseph to feel as though he belonged and it didn't help that others didn't see him like he saw himself. Despite the constant reminder that he isn't strong enough to fight back, he still does what he does best: endure. So...
