Big Girls Don't Cry ✔️

Born in the wrong body

Kelsey
Since I was little, I never felt like I belonged in the body I was assigned to at birth. I was born male, but I didn't feel like a male. I didn't like anything about being a boy, whether it was toys or clothes.

My parents didn't understand why and proceeded to decorate my room in male items and colors, such as blue. They dressed me in pants and bought me boy toys.

I hated it. I prefer to dress in dresses, do my hair, paint my nails, play with dolls. I wasn't a fan of pink, but I did like pastel colors. I hated the fact that they tried to conform to their way of thinking.

While growing up, we always fought about this. I even tried to tell my parents I didn't feel right about who I was. They didn't care. Their answer was, you were born a male.

When they called my name, I refuse to answer it. Sure, they may have given me that name, but just like being assigned the wrong body, they assigned me the wrong name. You would think they would want me to be happy, but nope, they prefer what people thought over me being happy.

It wasn't until they caught me tucking in my penis and wearing a prosthetic, so it looks like I had breasts, that they became furious with me. They couldn't accept the fact I didn't want to be a male but a female. An argument ensued, and they threw me out of the house.

If I wanted to live there, I had to abide by their rules, which included living as a male. I refused. I would rather live on the streets than life as someone I wasn't.

My aunt and uncle found out and took me in. My uncle being the black sheep of the family and not listening to what others said, basically told me it didn't matter. I could live; however, I felt comfortable as I was — that caused problems between him and my grandparents.

They told him he needed to stay out of it; he told them to go to hell. The fact I was ten at the time was even worse. Who throws a ten-year-old out for wanting to be who they are? My parents did.

It also didn't help I had a younger sister named Amber at home who didn't understand why I had to leave. She was only four at the time. She also didn't know why I dressed in dresses if I was a boy.

Hopefully, she turns out better and has a better time of it than I did. All I wanted was to be loved.

I packed whatever I could and left with my aunt and uncle, but not before my dad stopped my uncle.

"Baxter, don't do this," dad pleaded with him.

"Jeremy, you are willing to toss a ten-year-old kid out on the street because they prefer to be who they are and not what you want. When did you become so cold and callus?" Baxter asked him angrily as dad stood there, clenching his fists.

My uncle looked at my mom who stood there with her arms crossed across her chest and the house we lived in and already knew the answer. Dad would be willing to appease mom and hold up pretenses instead of letting me be happy. Pretty sucky if you asked me.

"Kelsey, get in the car," my uncle told me.

"His name is Kace," dad corrected him.

I stood there, appalled. I would rather die than be referred to as my birth name.

Baxter looked at my father, "her name is Kelsey, and it finishes us here." With that, the three of us got into the car as we pulled out of the driveway, driving way. I never looked back, and I never wanted to.

When we arrived at my aunt and uncle's house, they showed me to my room. I walked in, and tears flooded my eyes. They designed the room for a girl, with pastel colors, dolls, a duvet, and dresses. It was everything I ever wanted growing up. It was me.

"We weren't sure what to purchase, so we went on what you had told us before," my aunt Rose mentioned.

I turned and looked at them, "you listened?"

"Of course, we did. That's what you do when you love and care about someone, the way we love and care about you. I'm just sorry you had shitty parents to deal with," Baxter told me.

It didn't matter about my parents. What matter was the fact, I had two people willing to take me in when no one would? If it weren't for them, I would be living on the streets right now.

I walked over to them and gave them both a hug. Baxter and Rose got it and understood why I felt this way. They even called me by the name Kelsey I had chosen, not that other name gave to me by two people who didn't care about me.

The thing about my aunt and uncle is they never had any kids. My aunt wasn't able to have a child, so they became close to me. It always burned my parents to know; we had this close bond. I think it was jealousy on their part. Rose and Baxter accepted me for who I am and never changed me. My parents could never approve of that.

Over time, I came to call my aunt and uncle, mom, and dad. It was fitting. They were more like parents than my biological parents were. Since they decided to take me in, my family cut off ties with them. They didn't care, and neither did I. I was just happy, I finally had a place to call home.

Yeah, well, uh, surprise. I gave this story a lot of thought, and someone mentioned wanting to see the story of Kelsey, Jordan's mom. I didn't have any intentions on doing one but decided I should. So now you're going to read Kelsey's story. Enjoy.