Unspoken Wounds⚧️

Unspoken Wounds ⚧️

A sad 😭 story ayaan (Transgender)

The night she was born, the house did not fill with celebration.

No sweets were distributed, no smiles lit the room.

Only silence… and disappointment.

When the doctor handed the newborn to her mother, he hesitated.

“This child,” he said quietly, “does not fit into the usual categories.”

Her mother’s face fell.

Her father looked away.

They did not hold her lovingly.

They did not whisper prayers in her ear.

Instead, the mother whispered, “Why us?”

And the father muttered, “This is a bad sign.”

This was the first wound in the life of the child they later named Ayaan — a child who only wanted to be loved.

A Childhood of Shame

As Ayaan grew older, she began to feel the difference between her and the other children.

She wanted to play, to laugh, to join the neighborhood games.

But every time she stepped outside, her mother pulled her back.

“Stay indoors! People will talk!”

“What will the neighbors think?”

“You will embarrass us!”

When guests visited their home, Ayaan was hidden away like a secret.

She would sit inside a dark room, listening to laughter outside, wondering why she could not be part of it.

Her mother never introduced her to anyone.

Her siblings pretended she didn’t exist.

If they went to a wedding, a park, or a family gathering, Ayaan was always left behind.

She watched from the window as her brother and sister walked with confidence and acceptance — two things she had never tasted.

Ayaan was alive, but she was not allowed to live.

The Growing Storm

As she entered her teenage years, Ayaan’s body and mind felt like two different worlds constantly crashing.

She felt like a girl trapped inside a body the world refused to understand.

She felt wrong in her own skin, confused, scared, and alone.

But the family refused to see her pain.

Instead, their shame only grew.

Her mother spoke harshly:

“You are the curse on this family.”

Her father declared:

“You will never be normal.”

Her siblings avoided her.

In school, children laughed at her voice, her walk, her gestures.

Even teachers looked at her with pity or disgust.

Ayaan would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, asking God:

“Why did You make me like this?

What is my sin?”

But God remained silent — or maybe the world was just too loud.

Facing Society

When Ayaan became an adult, the world outside became even harsher.

Men stared at her with dirty, lust-filled eyes.

Women shunned her, whispering insults behind her back.

Whenever she walked on the street, she heard laughter, whispers, taunts.

Some men treated her like an object.

Others treated her like a creature.

Ayaan felt unsafe everywhere — except inside her own dreams.

Dreams where she was loved, where she belonged, where she could smile without fear.

But reality was cruel.

One evening, when she returned home, her father sat waiting at the door.

His face was red with anger.

Thrown Out of Her Own Home

“We can’t take this anymore,” her father shouted.

“You have destroyed our reputation!”

Her mother’s voice trembled with rage,

“People laugh at us because of you. You are the shame of this house.”

Ayaan cried, “Where should I go? What will I do?”

But her mother turned her back.

Her father opened the door and pointed outside.

“Leave.

Just leave.

You don’t belong here.”

Ayaan fell to her knees, begging for one more chance, for a little love, for a place to stay.

She begged her mother to look at her, but her mother refused.

She begged her father to think… but he did not.

For the first time in her life, Ayaan understood something painfully clear:

If the world hurts you, you can still come home.

But if home hurts you… where do you go?

The door closed behind her, and with it, the last bit of hope she had.

Lost and Alone

Ayaan wandered the streets with tears mixing with dust on her cheeks.

She had no money.

No bag.

No place to stay.

Just the clothes she wore and a heart heavy with wounds no one saw.

People stared at her as she walked.

Some laughed.

Some stared with hunger in their eyes.

She felt like she didn’t belong anywhere — not in her home, not in society, not even in her own body.

She whispered to herself,

“I didn’t choose this.

This is not my fault.”

But the world had already decided her worth.

A New Family

When night fell, Ayaan sat alone on a street bench, trembling.

That’s when a group of transgender women noticed her.

One of them, named Zara, approached gently.

“You’re one of us, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

Ayaan nodded, too broken to speak.

Zara wrapped a shawl around her shoulders.

“Come with us. You are safe now.”

For the first time, someone spoke to Ayaan with kindness.

She was taken to a small house where others like her lived — people who had also been thrown out, rejected, insulted, and abandoned.

They gave her food, clothes, and a place to sleep.

Not because they had to…

but because they understood her pain.

And for the first time, Ayaan felt the warmth of belonging.

Rebuilding a Broken Life

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks into months.

Ayaan learned stitching, makeup skills, dance, and small jobs to survive.

She laughed for the first time in years.

She smiled without fear.

She began to accept herself.

Her new family didn’t judge her walk, her voice, her identity.

They celebrated her uniqueness because they shared the same wounds.

Ayaan slowly stitched her broken heart back together.

She realized something beautiful:

Family is not always blood.

Sometimes family is those who heal your wounds, not those who cause them.

Strength Born From Pain

Every night, Ayaan prayed for all the people like her —

those hiding their tears,

those begging for acceptance,

those thrown out of their homes for simply being who they are.

She promised herself:

“I will survive.

Not because the world is kind,

but because I am stronger than my wounds.”

Her scars did not disappear,

but they became proof of her courage —

courage to exist in a world that never understood her.

A Message for the World

Ayaan’s story is not just her own.

It is the story of thousands of transgender people who never chose their identity, yet carry the punishment society gives them.

Their biggest battle is not with the world —

but with their own family rejecting them.

Her life whispers a truth the world needs to hear:

“Our existence is not a sin.

Your hatred is.”

And though she still walks a difficult path,

Ayaan holds her head high now,

because she finally believes:

“I am human.

I deserve love.

I deserve dignity