vents/rants

me

7:00am:
I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring and lazily click "disarm" To silence it. I sit up, starting to get ready for school as i feel it. The wait of my chest pulling all chances of confidence down with them, hidden by my hoodie i threw on the night before so i wouldnt see them as i tried to fall asleep. I slrewdy feel the regret turning in my stomach as i think about lying my way out of school. I trudgingly walk out of my room not bothering to look at the mess i'll see in the mirror. I brush my teeth not looking past my own eyes. Ever.

7:30am:
i pick out my clothes for the day slowly, trying to strategically plan out how to make myself feel the least terrible throughout the day. I look at my binder and think about if i want to waste my breath to keep away my chest or if I'll allow myself to breath while i almost cry. Most days i just dont wear it because it hurts. I get dressed. Never looking into the mirror until i brush my hair not looking past the eyes of a person i do not recognize as myself anymore. I take a deep breath in and walk out of my room.

8:10am:
I walk out of my house and lock the door. 'they'll notice', 'you dont look manly enough today', 'nobody believes you, you couldnt look it even if you tried.' But i ignore the fact thst it gets to me because who would really understand.

8:37am: "hey alyssa!" "Hey chris."
That. That buring feeling that i get with a simple name that simple name isnt so simple when it is so compicated to hear. To cope with. To accept. I act like its fine it should be fone why idnt it fine why cant it be–oh yeah, because.....its not my name. People may say that its my name but i cant lie to myself as if it is because its just not anymore.

8:50am: i walk into the school pretending to be flat chested trying to sheild it with a shirt made of steel covering my identity my identity identity what is my identity its a selected detective of my strength my predator it is called being transgender. My ache is one of a kind bc it is not something that can be sent away with words or a hug those hugs remind me of how my chest isnt flat chested how my arms are aching i cant breath i cant breath help me i cant bre–

"she her she her she her she her–"

4:30pm: im numb. I sting. Im in pain.
“She her she her she her–”

"Bye Alyssa!" "Bye chris."

5:00pm: "hey alyssa, go bring in the garbage can."

"Hey Alyssa, unload the dishwasher okay?"

"Hey Alyssa im leaving to pick up your sister."

You cant say you support me and then flat out deny me and ignore the facts i have laid out for you time and time again.
I dont want to speak anymore.
All i want is to be able to feel like i am myself, that i can talk about it and not feel like you dont care and feel like you dont want to listen to me anymore.
All i want is love and support.
And you wont even try to see my side of this. Youd rather your child go through this pain then try. You.just brush it aside and i get it. Its something youve never thought about dealing with but you have to just try.
I am not your daughter i am your son.

Thats all i ask for.

To be your son.