Denying Being a Guy (Transgender Is Hard, Okay?)

So you guys know how about a year ago I posted this blog about me being a trans and all and then deleted it like nothing ever happened when I knew it happened and you know it happened and basically I did something very stupid by denying it all along?

Yeah.

So I did realize I was a guy inside the body of a girl and well, it was freeing at the beginning but then came the harsh, harsh, harsh reality!

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My family.

Insert dramatic music here, because it fits maybe too much.

So my family's nice, I guess. My dad doesn't really care about anything but he does care about us and he's a funny and extremely altruistic guy. My mom's a deeply religious (the good kind, not the 'let's kill everyone' kind of Christian) mother who worries a lot about me and my sister, especially me, since I'm the odd ball. And then there's... my sister.

Now, you see, my sister is one of those. She's not a cliche, I'm sure my sister's deep and has dreams that surpass anyone's imagination and she'll acomplish great things. But sometimes, when she tells me to kill myself after I've borrowed a shirt that was in my closet by mistake (my mom did the ironing) and promptly never talks to me again (this was about a week ago, guys) then I guess there's something really wrong.

I told my dad about being pan and he was like 'Alright, just pass me the control remote, no need to have a heart-to-heart when Carl Sagan is talking.' And that was it. My sister, who found out around April, knew only because she ENTERED my Facebook, SEARCHED AND READ my conversations, and then proceeded to cry and beg me to tell her it wasn't real.

Honestly. She cried. And she begged. And she kept making a huge deal out of it and screaming at me to tell her something. And in that moment I realized that whatever I did, whatever I was, my sister wouldn't accept it at all. Nevermind being pan, she probably thinks it doesn't exist or I'm making it up to look cool or whatever (seriously? that's old, Elena) but when I tell them that I'm a trans...

She's not gonna take it lightly. Or take at all, I know that. My mom will try to convince me that it's jsut a phase. My dad will look uncomfortable and not really accept it until he realizes it's true. Then he'll be more or less okay with it. My mom will cry, I just know it. She wanted me to have kids and a church wedding with a man and all that 'cause she doesn't accept homosexual marriage. They'll love me forever and ever, yeah, but they just... won't accept it. They won't.

And I'm a guy! And I want my mom to be able to look at me and say 'that's my son', you know? And I think I'll never have that. I want my hair cut short, my clothes to match, my body to match my mind. Could I afford testosterone on my own? Of course I can! But would it be the same with my mother looking about to cry? No.

So I hope they take it well the day I decide to tell them.

Cause my name is Nicolás, and I like to be called Nik. My username is niklitera, because I'm in love with Spanish and Anglo-Saxon literature. I'm a guy who's about to turn 18 in three days (no kidding, it's the 27th) and plays base and sings for a shitty cover band in Madrid.

And someday, my body will match my mind. Whether my family likes it or not.
January 23rd, 2015 at 11:50pm