I used to feel like my body was the exact opposite of who I know I am inside. I had hard skin. My hair was short, kept in a crew cut by parents and dress codes. I had a flat chest. And I hated it. When puberty rolls around, most boys can’t wait to see the peach fuzz, and eagerly hit the gym, looking to get all muscley. Not me. I was hoping to see my penis shrink into my body, and to see the tiny little buds of breasts. I cried myself to sleep the first day I needed to shave. My body was committing treason against me. And yet, the girl in my head still hoped that her body would turn out right in the end. Society told me that I was wrong, that I was a freak, that I should suck it |
For the most part, the people in my family do not know that I am dating a transwoman. The only person in my family who does know is my mom. To say that she’s okay with it and supports me is an understatement. Her perception of who her daughter was and is hasn’t changed. I feel beyond blessed that I have my mother’s love and support, even though I’m sure she has felt some disappointment that I won’t have a “normal” relationship. I’m also sure she’s very worried for me. I don’t know that it is so much a worry for my physical well-being as it is a mental one. Either way, what is important to her is that I’m happy and she seems satisfied that I am with Allie. |
