Prompt Post #7
Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer.
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Please remember to place any Trigger Warnings in the subject line of your ( Read more... )
Logically, you have always known that puberty is going to happen to you. You are aware that at a certain age boys and girls start to change into men and women. You've covered the basics in biology and you know plenty of grown women, so it isn't that you're surprised when it happens. What does surprise you is how you react when you notice the changes.
It's panic. It hits you like a ton of bricks one morning about a month after your twelfth birthday. Panic because suddenly, as you stand naked in front of the mirror, you can see how much has already happened, and you know it will keep happening. All at once this is real and it feels so, so wrong. You hate what your body is turning into and you feel inexplicably betrayed by it. All the other girls seem to be welcoming the changes. Even Sara is excited about the prospect of buying her first bra, but the thought terrifies you, and you don't understand why. You don't understand why you can't just be like everyone else.
You try to tell your mother about it one morning over breakfast, but she tells you it's normal to be a little scared about leaving your childhood and to just hang in there, it will get better. This doesn't help you at all, and you have a hard time believing that you're really meant to feel like this. Claustrophobic and trapped in your own body. Like each day is a nightmare that you keep hoping you'll wake up from, but you never ever do. Like the person you see reflected in the mirror every day isn't even you. Before you can articulate any of this, however, your mother is out the door, off to one of her important meetings, and you're alone in the kitchen again.
You decide that the internet is your friend, but as you sit in front of your computer, the brightly colored Google letters far too cheery, you have no idea what to even search for. Or at least that is what you tell yourself, when the truth is that you're scared. Scared that there isn't an answer to your problem. Scared that there is. So every night you sit there staring at the computer screen as the blinking cursor seems to mock your indecision, and every night you go to bed without having typed a single word.
By rights the thing that finally pushes you over the edge should be some big dramatic moment, but it isn't. It's simply more of the same, but week by week it gets more and more difficult just to exist, and the months go by until finally you've had enough. You sit down at the computer, open Google and without planning or hesitating you type in the words confused about my gender and hit enter.
You don't sleep that night. Instead you spend hour after hour browsing through dozens of websites and watching countless videos until your eyes hurt and your mind feels like it's about to explode from information overload. It's nearly four in the morning when you finally go to bed, and even then you lie awake for the longest time, your whole body thrumming with nervous excitement. It's real. What you're feeling is real. It's then that you say the words out loud to yourself for the first time.
I'm a boy. I may not look like one, but I am. I'm transgender.
Somehow, even though knowing this, and knowing that there are others like you out there, should be - and is in some ways - comforting, you've never felt more alone.
You fall asleep crying.
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