It all started in 1989 when I was born. They told my parents I was a healthy baby girl, but I never felt as such. When I was in daycare I was always playing with the boys, catching bugs, playing in the dirt and chasing the girls around the playground like every other 4-7 year old boy. My first crush was a girl, and I never thought it was strange at all. My friends were all boys and they talked about girls, so they thought it was cool that they could talk to me about them too.
Once a little boy tried to kiss me and I refused, they he called me gay and the whole class laughed. The thing was though, I never felt gay. I always saw myself as a boy despite the fact that my mother put me in dresses and put bows in my hair. Everywhere I went with my parents when I was not in a dress people would say “what a fine young lad that one is,” or “he sure does take after his father,” which always made me happy, but my mother always got upset and defensive. She always went out of her way to tell everybody I was her daughter and I was just a tomboy. I knew from a very young age that I was not just a tomboy, but I let my parents believe this. I was never allowed to have any ‘boy’ toys or anything, but my grandpa always found a way around these rules. I got a pocket knife when I was 10 because it was useful for camping, and cargo pants because I helped with building and painting the rent homes. I was also allowed to wear shorts when swimming because it showed less skin than girl swimsuits. Even though my mother never let me cut my hair any shorter than shoulder length I was always called “sir” or “little man” this always made my mother furious, and I never told her I secretly liked it. I was afraid to tell my parents growing up, in fact I still don’t really know how to talk to them about transitioning. Family get together events are always so awkward that I end up having to leave early.
Someday I hope that I am able to talk with my parents about who I am without fear or them disowning me completely. I’m pretty sure my father would even be proud to know that I have chosen to carry on his middle name.
Once a little boy tried to kiss me and I refused, they he called me gay and the whole class laughed. The thing was though, I never felt gay. I always saw myself as a boy despite the fact that my mother put me in dresses and put bows in my hair. Everywhere I went with my parents when I was not in a dress people would say “what a fine young lad that one is,” or “he sure does take after his father,” which always made me happy, but my mother always got upset and defensive. She always went out of her way to tell everybody I was her daughter and I was just a tomboy. I knew from a very young age that I was not just a tomboy, but I let my parents believe this. I was never allowed to have any ‘boy’ toys or anything, but my grandpa always found a way around these rules. I got a pocket knife when I was 10 because it was useful for camping, and cargo pants because I helped with building and painting the rent homes. I was also allowed to wear shorts when swimming because it showed less skin than girl swimsuits. Even though my mother never let me cut my hair any shorter than shoulder length I was always called “sir” or “little man” this always made my mother furious, and I never told her I secretly liked it. I was afraid to tell my parents growing up, in fact I still don’t really know how to talk to them about transitioning. Family get together events are always so awkward that I end up having to leave early.
Someday I hope that I am able to talk with my parents about who I am without fear or them disowning me completely. I’m pretty sure my father would even be proud to know that I have chosen to carry on his middle name.
RSS Feed