Sooooooooooooo, I wrote this one a few months ago in class, it is about a transgender teen whose mom is very un-supportive. At the time I knew almost nothing about the lgbt world, so if I do get anything messed up please forgive me. PLEASE!
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I am a walking sin. At least, that's what people say. I grew up hearing my family tell me that some humans were a disgrace to God. They didn't know how I felt inside, that they were teaching me things I didn't believe. My mom told me to never befriend one of them, but how could I hide from myself? Most of all, how could I have told anyone I loved, if it meant they wouldn't love me? It took a long time for me to answer those questions.
It was a Friday like any other Friday, and I was early. As I took my seat, I noticed my friend, Sean, staring at me. I slowly opened my notebook as the awkward and silent exchange happened. When I turned away to copy down the lesson, the topic hit me in the face like a brick.
"How to Confess: The Right Way," was written on the board in big block letters. I glanced back at Sean, and he winked and gave me a goofy grin, like he had something to do with the lesson.
Before I could get up and confront him, our teacher, Mrs. Corder, swept into the room. She said hello to a few students, but stopped when she reached my desk. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something, but the petite woman quickly moved on after a few seconds. I glared at my best friend as he continued to smile like an oaf. I was positive he had done something.
After a long lecture about how to tell people things, Sean offered to walk me home, something he never does. When we got to my house, he dragged me upstairs, without letting me get a snack, and shut my door.
"Hey! I'm hungry!" I play-pouted, crossing my arms, but Sean's face was serious.
"Tell her,"he demanded, ignoring me.
"What?" I exclaimed, surprised by his tone. I had no clue what he was talking about at that point. Then everything from earlier in the day came back to me, every suspicious moment. My realization must have shown on my face, because Sean nodded and smiled, then gestured to the door.
"Get a snack," he suggested, "do whatever. Just remember, if you don't tell her, I will." I was stunned by how forceful and rude he was being.
"Why now?" I asked, my shock changing into anger. "It's been six years since I told you!"
"Exactly!" he fired back. "It's been too long! You need to confess!" I clenched and unclenched my fists, resisting the urge to punch him. I had trusted Sean with my secret, and he had blabbed to our teacher. Even worse, he planned to tell the one person I dreaded telling. But before I could tell him all the wonderful ways the confession could go wrong, that very woman I feared walked through the door.
"I got home and heard you two yelling. What's wrong?" my mom asked. I remained perfectly still and silent. Sean raised an eyebrow at me, but I shook my head. He slowly opened his mouth, a warning sign, and it triggered something inside me, and the words leaped up my throat.
"I want to be a boy!" I screamed. Sean smiled, but my mom was a different story. Her short-lived shock had turned into something evil, like pure, clean hatred. All of a sudden, I was glad Sean had stuck around for when I told her.
My mom looked terrifying. Her face was red, and her hands in fists. As she slowly approached me, Sean stood up, but she ignored him. When she finally had me backed up against the wall, she did the only thing I thought she would never do. She slapped me. Sean took a step, but I waved him back. I could handle her on my own, I hoped.
"What is wrong with you?" I cried. "You think that slapping me is going to do something?"
"Me? I'm slapping the devil out of you!" she hollered back.
"Why can't you accept people like me, hm? Does God now hate his daughters for kissing his daughters and sons for kissing his sons? Or do you guys just hate accepting change?" I screamed. My argument had holes in it, yes, but I was proud of myself for not backing down like I wanted. I really, really wanted to.
"I will never accept people like you, especially you! Not after this, whether you're a boy or a girl! You're going to ruin me!" She hissed. So that was what this was all about. Maybe it had to do with religion, maybe, but I was sure about one thing. My mom thought that I was going to destroy her reputation in our family, which was apparently more important than my feelings. That hurt more that anything she had said or done, ever.
"Ruin you? Is that all you care about? You have hurt me in so many ways trying to impress our family!" I exclaimed. It was all starting to come together. The one way she always agreed with them, the way she pushed Dad's "love everyone" family whenever her relatives were around, until they got divorced, and my mom's family seemed to like me more.
"How have I hurt you?" she asked, her arms crossed and her voice cold.
"For starters, I've had to wear dresses and skirts when I didn't want to!" I began. I glanced behind my mom to see Sean recording us. I was all but mad. The video could help in the future. "I've gone in girls locker rooms, bathrooms, and changing rooms, only to feel insanely uncomfortable. I tell others that I want to be a mother, when I want to be the gender that doesn't have the children. I've lied to everyone for six years! Everyone but Sean, and he still sees me as a human! Not a piece of garbage!" I was worn out, even though the fight had only lasted a minute. Maybe that's why I started crying. Or maybe it was all the emotions I had locked away breaking free.
Sean stopped his recording and ran over. He hugged me, and I let him. Silent sobs racked my body as my mom had a sudden breakthrough.
"Dear Lord, forgive me," she whispered. I stopped sobbing and looked up at my mom. She looked crestfallen. "What have I done?" She slowly walked over and wrapped her arms around me just as Sean let go. He silently grabbed his jacket and left, leaving us in a tearful and silent embrace.
"Mom," I mumbled uncertainly, her sudden compassion surprising and worrying me.
"I'm so sorry. I can't treat you like this anymore. You're not trash, you're my baby," she cried, tears streaming down her face. I realized that she wasn't apologizing to God for hurting me, but for deciding to forgive me, in her own way. It was odd, but it was enough.
"Thank you," I breathed, squeezing her frame against me. "Thank you so much."
"Now," she sniffed, holding me out at her arm's length, "how do we make you a boy?"
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I had to write an epilogue too, so here you go:
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It's been a long time since 10th grade. After the fateful day I came out to my mom, she agreed to get me on hormone blockers right away. Thankfully, puberty had decided to take it's time, and the male hormones injected into me worked like a charm. I've been a boy for three years now, and my life has changed completely. It turns out that life can go right for a transgender teen.
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I want to point out a few things:
1. I wanted to make it longer, but my teacher put a 2-page limit on us.
2. No, I didn't name the main character. They didn't need one.
3. All the information I used in this essay that could be incorrect was found on YouTube and from my friends
4. No, it is not about me
5. No, it is not about someone I know
I hope that answered any questions you had. Thank you for reading! BAI - Blue
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Class Stories
عشوائي|| old book, no longer being updated. cover has been changed. my views in this book do not necessarily reflect the ones i hold now || OLD SUMMARY ---- I wrote these for class projects and they suck but for some reason I won't let myself delete or un...
