Teen Trans

When you are so young, you never fully understand the gravity of what you are saying out loud.

The words “I want to be a zebra” sound innocent enough, but even from there I remember not truly feeling like myself. The only Zebras I knew about were Marty from Madagascar and Stripes from Racing Stripes. Ironically, both of which are boys. I look back at it with everything I know now, and I realise this was how I first ever voiced my dissatisfaction with my assigned gender. And the reaction I got was enough to make me never say something like that again in my family. 

I didn’t mention it again, even when I hated the boys vs girls because I was always with the girl’s side. But you would have never known. I played netball, and did so for years. No one would have suggested that there was something different when I was playing women’s football, either. But there was the talk about me getting a breast reduction on top of everything else at only 13 years old. That desire to change that integrally feminine part of my body, to make it less noticeable. The baggy clothes, everything. It was all to hide the top half of my body. Even the desire to cut all of my hair off. To always look like a boy. 

None of this was made easier by the fact I was attending an all girls' school. Full of girls who understood nothing about people who aren’t cis. I never found myself comfortable within my own skin. Most people would attribute my discomfort with my weight, but that was only a part of it. I wanted to look different. I didn’t want to look like myself. The desire to go to a co-ed school was so intense, but I stayed. I stayed for my own studies while feeling so sad about myself. Sad looking in the mirror. Sad as I watched my body change in ways I could never truly like. I would see a total stranger looking back at me in the mirror. But I thought I could fix it. 

Lots of the girls wore makeup and were happy to share tips on how to do it well. When I tried to use it to make myself look more feminine, I still looked like a stranger. That face wasn’t mine. That body wasn’t mine. But I could feel it. No one else could know about it though. I heard people talking about people who change their genders, not truly understanding what that meant, but the way it was spoken about made me know to keep my mouth shut. 

Hearing news about Caitlyn Jenner when I was still a young teen was enough for me to stay in the closet. My own family spouted such foul language about trans people, it made me hesitant to even bring up the topic. There was so much animosity for a woman who finally decided it was time to live as herself. While she has ideas that I couldn’t agree less with, she is still a woman who lived in the wrong body for so many years of her life. I can have sympathy for that part of her life. She also allowed many young trans people to gauge how accepting their families could be. Which is most likely what saved me from a life of misery while still attempting to live a false life. I had gotten very good at it so far.

The second I decided to have a secret account, where no one I knew in person knew about, and I could very much post photos of how I felt on the inside. I chose a new name for the first time in my life. I had makeup that reflected who I was on the inside. The name has since changed, but the same feeling is there. That feeling of being myself. 

Since graduating the place I now call a Hell Hole, I have been able to look at myself and be happy with what I see. I can look at my face and not want to cry. Learning to cut my own hair was a fun skill, since no one would believe me when I told them I was in fact, not a woman. 

Dressing as a man is easier in winter, that is if you are dressing traditionally masculine. I do not anymore. The acceptance of clothes not having a gender always made me feel slightly strange. But the world of men’s fashion is really not my style. Makeup didn’t just make my face look the way I wanted it to, it added so many new features that I didn’t know was socially acceptable. It probably isn’t, but when you’re not on the clock there’s really no issues is there?

Only a couple of people in my life know my new name, and my new life. But even with that, there are more people who have ever known what I decided was a dirty little secret. I now know that it’s just me. Just something that I need to manage, but it makes me happy to understand myself now. 

But the pain in my heart whenever I looked in the mirror when I was younger will never go away. I went through childhood and my teenage years hating myself for something I could have asked for help for. 

If you want children, you should love them and respect the pronouns they ask for. Their gender shouldn’t make you love them any less. And no child should live their life in fear of familial reactions to living their own truth.