Transitioning into Who I am Meant to Be

Dear Diary..... or Start Log 495,

Hunk told me I needed to start keeping a log or a diary.... He said it would help me with my homesickness. Don't doubt the comforting tactics of Hunk Garett, trust me.

So here I am, starting my Diary, which this is, like, literally the worst way to start this but HOW DO I START IT?!

Hi....journal? I guess.... my name is Lance McClain-Fuentes. My mother, Sophia McClain, is from Puerto Rico and my father, Macario Fuentes, is from Cuba. They met one night at a college party at Miami University. He was a Junior and she was a Senior. They hit it off and three years later came my twin older brothers Alejandro and Hector, then James, Miguel, the first daughter Margret, Mary, Elena, and then Me (woot!), after me came John, Jacob, Naomi, Phillis, Kimberly, and the youngest and (still about 4 years old) Hailey.

Growing up I was not known as Lance, but rather Lana.... my birth name. I had a really close friend named Lance, however, Lance Gregori the next door neighbor who knew everything and anything about space. He was four years older than me and what my sisters say was my first crush. I usually met up with him whenever he came over to the house to take me to Varadero beach and watch the sunset. He'd wait for the first sighting of a star and tell me it's name, history, and just how fascinating a star can be. He lit up just like the star as he talked about it as if it were a lover or someone he would be willing to love. His eyes sparkled with a copy of the cosmos in his hazelnut gleaming eyes when the beach sang her song of in the lustrous wind his thick hair would barely move, choosing to soak in and gorge on her song rather than letting it pass by. He was perfect. Even the undertone of his voice with the subtle hint of extraterrestrial existence it resonated so perfectly. He was always comfortable with who he was and who he knew he was.

I never felt like I knew who I truly was. I felt uncomfortable in my own body but not like I could change clothes and be okay or style my hair differently. I knew there was something missing something that I was supposed to have but lacked in having. It wasn't until I was 10 or 11 that Lance told me that it sounded as thought I was transgender. He explained to me, simply, that I felt I was in the wrong gendered body, that I wasn't what my parent's said: A Tomboy. We talked about it for hours and that's when I came to the realization that Lance was right... I was--am transgender. I stressed to Lance about what I would do, I'm Lana friggin McClain-Fuentez, I can't just become a man. I have four older brothers who will all tell me I'm crazy, my parents would probably cry and ask who put this nonsense into my head, blame someone, and then tell me to get over it.

Lance told me:

They can try to change you, they can do their damndest to make you into the daughter you aren't. They can make you wear dresses, grow out your hair, and marry a boy to have children with. But you are you. You hold your destiny in your hands, you are the one to grasp who you are. You are the sole person to know who you are, no one can tell you what gender you ARE or AREN'T. You are you. If they can't accept YOU, then--whatever. Be you because the you I know you as is pretty great. Whether you're a he or a she or a they or none of those, as long as you are comfortable with who you become, be you. I'll be happy for you.

I told him at the time I didn't think that my family would get it, that they wouldn't understand. So I'd wait until I thought they were ready.

Two months after that Lance killed himself. No one knows why he did it he didn't leave a note, and no one really can find any one person at fault. He just snuck into his father's study, took the gun, and it was over in a second.

At his funeral, I swore to his grave that I'd tell my family.

I did just that a week after when I turned 12. I asked my family to come together because I had an announcement. I had to get this off my chest because I couldn't take pretending to be someone I'm not. I told them. My family was very hesitant, they were leading on the fact that "It's a new fad she'll grow out of it" or something. But on my 13th birthday, I unwrapped my first binder that my whole family pitched in to buy. It was so high quality that I just wept into it. My brothers made a cake with "IT'S A BOY" written in frosting and shouted "HAPPY BIRTHDAY--"