Fifth chapter (Patreon)

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Pt. 5 Weren't you supposed to love me?

I thought there was no one else like me. I thought I was a weird person, with strange dreams. I thought nobody would ever understand what I felt.

If somebody knew, they’d reject me. I mean, my parents did.

Ever since I was 12 I could only be happy at 1:00 am, hiding in my room, trying not to make any sound so I wouldn’t wake anyone while I was wearing a skirt and a blouse that belonged to my sister.

I could only dream of being like her.

But I could never be.

Maybe, over time, I would grow up and I would stop feeling envious of her and my classmates. Maybe someday I could stop dreaming of a life I couldn’t have anyway.

It didn’t happen. The more time passed, the more desperate I was to change. I wanted to wear pretty clothes, have long hair, and feel pretty. I only wanted to be happy in my own body.

I thought that, as long as I could wear women’s clothes in my room, I’d be okay, but I needed something more. I realized that wasn’t enough.

I didn’t want to be alone my whole life. I wanted, I needed somebody to see me, to know that I existed, to have a real life. I didn’t want what I had. I felt so lonely, but they would never accept me at home. The school was even worse, it was already hell and they made fun of me for being weak and shy, and not acting like the other boys.

And I could never be one of the girls.

Someday, in class, the teacher taught us about hormones and their effects on our bodies. Men produced testosterone, which caused body and facial hair growth, a deeper voice, and increased muscle mass. Women produced estrogens, which promoted breast development, widening of the hips, and fat redistribution.

Testosterone sounded like poison to me, but that was what my body would produce naturally, so I started searching on the internet for ways to get rid of it. I found out there was a certain type of meds that would block its effects, but that still wasn’t enough.

Could I get estrogens, the hormones my body could not produce enough of?

After all, it was painful to see my female classmates change through their puberties while I was…

This.

After looking at the prices of hormones, I figured out there was no way I could pay for that at the time, but at least I could get one of the testosterone blockers I found. Maybe that would give me a little bit more time.

However, if my parents discovered what I was doing, there was no way I could ever explain my actions to them.

I wanted to leave, change my name and start a new life as a girl, get a job to be able to pay for the necessary medication for my body to change into something I didn’t absolutely hate. But life wasn’t that easy.

I couldn’t just go away and hope everything turned out just perfect. Besides, I didn’t have the means. I started to save as much money as I could with the hope someday that would be enough to carry out my plan.

I always had a roof over my head, but I never had a home.

I wanted to go to a place where my soul could feel at peace. I wanted to disappear, and at the same time, I wanted to be seen.

I cried every day.

I didn’t want to die, I just wanted to live a different life.

I wanted to be like my sister. Was that too much to ask? I always admired her, and I envied her.

She graduated from high school not long before I left the house, and when I saw her in her beautiful dress, I only knew I wanted one for myself.

I couldn’t take hers this time. The last time my parents found some of her clothes in my room, she started to lock her door, while they removed my door knob completely.

I saved enough to buy myself a cheap dress. It was nothing fancy like hers, but at least it was a dress. It was purple, and the mannequin looked pretty in it.

“Are you gonna try it on?”, the saleswoman asked me. “Oh, no… Right”, she answered herself after remembering I was a man. It didn’t matter. I had the dress.

I knew it wouldn’t fit me as well as I would have liked, I lacked the attributes for that, but at least for a moment, I could dream of being a normal girl at her prom.

I wore it that night. I didn’t know how to do makeup, I still don’t, and I only had lipstick and eyeliner I had stolen from my sister. I did what I could with them. I didn’t have women’s shoes, so I was barefoot. My parents threw away my wig several months before. It was cheap, of bright red color, as fake as it could get, but at least it could give me an idea of how I’d look with longer hair. What a shame I didn’t have it anymore.

So… I didn’t look like my sister, at all, and yet… I felt so happy. Now that I think about it, I’m surprised by how easy it is to make me smile, and how difficult it is for others to give me the chance.

I put my phone on my bed and set the timer to take a few photos of myself. In some of them, I was spinning, making the dress twirl.

I loved it, I really loved that dress!

If I tried, if I really tried, could I get to wear it at my graduation? Could I change enough to look like any other girl? Could I have long hair, high heels, and pretty makeup?

Could I be just a normal girl?

But… My parents wouldn’t be proud of me. They wouldn’t be happy, watching me receive my diploma. No, no one would be happy for me. They'd rip the dress off me, they’d cut my hair right there, they’d throw water at me to get rid of my makeup, and they would tear the diploma with my new name.

But I won't ever change. This is who I am. It doesn't matter how much they try, they can't change me. Not even I can. They're just forcing me to lie.

I’ll have to hide from them, to run far away to be able to live my life in peace.

And while I was thinking about all of this, I heard my sister yell.

“Mom, dad! He’s being a weirdo again!”

She had seen me in my dress and she immediately called them. I tried to get her out of my room and close the door, but again, I didn’t have anything to lock it, so I was keeping the door closed with my hands, begging them not to come in, but my dad slammed the door open.

When I woke up the next morning, I was still crying. Everything hurt. I had some bruises near my stomach and hips. He knew where to hit so others wouldn’t notice.

There was no one in the house. My dress was laying on the floor, torn, left there as a reminder of what would happen should I wear something like that again.

I took what I could in a couple of bags, also some money from them, wrote two letters, and left. I had decided that I had to go if I didn’t want to die.

And so I did.