LGBT+

As I Am

As soon as the bus drops me off in front of my house, I race inside faster than an Olympic sprinter running from an ostrich. I don't even care that Mrs. Johnson next door is looking at me funny from her porch swing. I don't give a damn that my legs still hurt from all the extra laps Coach Hill made me do in gym today as punishment for refusing to dress out (again). I don't care about anything, except getting to my room as soon as possible and getting out of these god-awful clothes.

As soon as I get to my room, I slam the door and breath a huge sigh of relief as I start to strip out of my much-too-masculine clothes. Once they're off, I throw them aside in disgust. I despise them, almost as much as I despise my own body, and that horrid thing in between my legs that should not be there. But no matter. I'm home now. It's time to be who I really am.

Once I'm dressed in my purple top over a padded bra and my silky black skirt, it's time for my favorite part: makeup. Of course, I'm not going out anywhere so it's not like I need it, but this is the only time I can even wear it. Home is the only place where I can feel beautiful.

I go to my older sister Kelly's room, where she's quietly studying, and politely knock on her open door.

She turns from her desk and smiles when she sees me. "Hey, Jenna! Need to borrow my makeup again?"

I nod, and she hands me her cosmetics bag from her drawer. "I should just let you keep this in your room," she laughs. "You certainly wear it more than I do."

It's true. I've always envied Kelly; so naturally beautiful that she hardly ever wears makeup, except for special occasions. Most girls don't realize how lucky they are to be born in the right body- it's not exactly something one thinks about a lot, unless you're like me-but having me as a sister has really made Kelly appreciate the body and face she was born with.

After applying my makeup, I stare at myself in my full length mirror. In my opinion, I pass rather well. Then again, I'm only thirteen, and a late bloomer. Barely about to hit puberty, which I'm terrified of. Luckily, I have a doctor's appointment coming up, and pretty soon I am going to start taking estrogen. But I have this irrational fear of waking up one morning between now and then with a deep voice and a hairy chest, and there will be nothing the doctor can do about it. I know it doesn't happen that fast, but it's still a common nightmare for me.

Just thinking about it makes me want to cry, but I don't want to mess up my makeup. I try to smile in the mirror, but it looks forced. I'm still thinking about how unfair everything is. Suddenly, I hear the front door open downstairs.

"Girls, your father's home early!" Our mother calls to Kelly and me. We have the kind of dad who loves nothing more than for his family to meet him at the door when he comes home, like in some old fifties sitcom. Yes, it's old-fashion, but it's been a daily tradition all our lives.

We race downstairs to say hi and ask him how work was. "Great!" He says. "It looks like I'll be getting that promotion. Uh, my boss is bringing his family over for dinner tonight to talk it over, actually."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" My mom practically squeals. "I better get started in the kitchen. What should I...." but she trails off and glances at me. Everyone is looking at me, nervously, and right away I know why. The last time Mr. Grayson and his family visited was about a year ago. Back when my family still thought I was a boy. If they come over tonight and find that James has turned into Jenna, what will they think?

I know right away what has to happen. "I'm going to have to be a boy tonight, aren't I?"

My father looks at me, sympathetically, and I can see him trying to find the right words. "Jenna, I'm so sorry, but....well this is a really big opportunity, and well...."

"We don't know how the Graysons will feel about this." my mom interjects. "We can't just assume that they will be accepting, and we really don't want to cause any, well....drama for your father at work. Not that it would in any way be your fault, but-"

"-Mom, it's okay. I understand." I assure her, smiling, even though on the inside I'm screaming. Home is the one place where I can be myself, and now the stupid Graysons are taking it away from me. But mom is right; we can't just assume that they will understand. We live in Louisiana, for God's sake. It's the same reason I can't go to school as a girl. Besides, I would feel terrible if I was the one to cost my father his promotion, just because his dumb boss didn't accept me.

"I'll go change." I say, trying not to sound as irritated as I feel.

"Honey, I'm so sorry." My dad says, genuinely.

"It's okay, it's not your fault." And it isn't. My parents already do so much for me, this is the least I could do for them. It's just for one night.

Still, I feel so sad and angry as I wash off my makeup and put back on the same clothes that I threw to the side earlier. The ones I was forced to wear to school, because our stupid small southern town is so stupidly small-minded.

I take some deep breaths in front of the mirror and remind myself how lucky I am. At least my family accepts me. At least they're willing to help me and pay for the hormones. There are so many kids like me who aren't so lucky.

Again I try to smile, and again I fail.

One day, I'll be able to be who I am, to dress how I want, to live in freedom. I will be able to go out in public as I am, not as everyone thinks I should be. One day, I will live somewhere where everyone accepts me, and I won't have to hide anymore. One day.

But right now, as I hear the doorbell ring below me and then the voices of Mr. Grayson and his family, I know that I have to be someone I'm not. And while I am not even remotely okay with it, and honestly just wish that my dad wouldn't care so much about what his boss thinks, I know that it's necessary. There are some parts of the world that, sadly, just aren't ready for change. And (lucky me) I happen to live in one of them.

I head downstairs, ready for a miserable night, but then, I see everyone at the table. I stop halfway down the stairs.

Wait, don't the Graysons have a daughter? In fact, I'm sure they do! I met her last year. Some miserable-looking chick named Charlotte, about my age. But I don't see her at the table. Instead, I see a very happy, handsome looking boy.

"Yes, Charlie was nervous about coming here tonight," I hear Mr. Grayson explaining. "He was worried you all wouldn't accept him. But I told him there was no need to worry, because there's no way I'd promote you if you didn't!"

The whole table laughs. "No, I understand all too well, sir," my dad says, glancing my way. From where he's sitting, he can see me on the stairs eavesdropping, but no one else can. He smiles, and waves me back upstairs with his hand under the table. "In fact, James will not be coming to the table tonight, or ever for that matter. Our daughter Jenna will be down in a few minutes, though. I'm sure her and Charlie will have a lot to talk about, now."

I tiptoe back upstairs, quietly, until I reach my room. I quickly change clothes once again, and reapply my makeup, smiling more than I have in a long time. Before going downstairs, I glance at myself in the mirror, as I am, and smile even wider. Perhaps my world is ready for change after all.