I was quite afraid and shy about meeting a girl my age. I did not have friends and it seemed as if children my age thought that I was weird and could even corrupt them. Now I was going to meet a girl my own age. This was one of dads great ideas that I knew that I should have said no to, and yet here I was on my way to visit someone who would probably hate me. I knew I had to learn how to say no to Dad. I had to learn not to be afraid of his domination and temper. This would just not happen yet.
When I first saw the girl, I was amazed. She was so pretty and she had the most beautiful smile on her face. Her name was Erin. While my Dad and her mother went to the kitchen, Erin invited me to her bedroom. It was a princess bedroom and had a lot of teddy bears and toys. We sat down and started talking. She was one of my followers on social media and loved the songs that I did. She also thought that I was very brave for being transgendered. I was surprised that she was so friendly to me. This was until she told me her story. Erin was born a boy just like me. At an early age, she knew that she was born in the wrong body and wanted to be a girl. Her mother supported this, but when Erin started living as a girl, her Dad left. Another problem was that Erin was bullied at school. Her mom enrolled her in a private school because things became so bad. Despite all the problems she had, she was happy that she was now a girl.
This was a strange experience. I met a person that was like me. I met someone that was the same age as me that spoke with me and was friendly. We talked about being a girl in the wrong body. She talked about how happy she was at the private school. She was accepted and had some good friends. Erin was very interested in my singing. I explained that it had nothing to tell the world that I was transgender. I just had fun singing. It was like an escape where I could enter my own world. The people that liked the songs made it even better. I told her that I loved singing live but Dad was more interested in the drag outfit than the song choices. This made me worry if I was popular on social media for my singing talent or the fact that I was transgender.
Now I had a good friend for the first time in my life. This was something I had to get used to. I did not have to hide from Erin and we could tell each other our deepest feelings for each other. It was a shame that she lived so far away. This did not stop us from speaking on the phone every day or texting with each other.
A few days later, Dad was excited. He told us that he had given an interview on a talk show and we should all watch it as a family. The interview started with Dad talking about our family. He loved his wife and my sister. Dad thought that we were the best family in the world. He philosophized that parents should get to know their children and let them be themselves. That led him to speak about me. Dad could see that I was a talented singer and he did his best to support this and be my manager so that I could live my dream. He also told the TC host about my journey to realizing that I should have been born a girl. Dad boasted that my parents supported me and I was so happy now being a daughter, a sister and a girl. The problem was that some people could not see my talent as a singer, but there was so much discussion about a boy thinking he was a girl or dressing and living as a girl.
The interviewer asked if my Dad did not cause so much attention to my identity by posting so many videos on social media about my journey to girlhood and preaching videos on how we should support transgender children and let them be the gender they want to be. It looked as if Dad was going to lose his temper. After some silence, he told the world that when he was a child he liked dressing up in his sister's clothes. He even had an invisible friend because he felt so alone in his wish to dress in girl clothes. Dad's parents caught him one day wearing his sister's dress. They got very mad and told him that it was so wrong and that it was a sin for a boy to dress as a girl. His parents then made him do activities that would man him up. Dad never wore a dress after that and was very bitter to this day. My sister gave me one of her looks as she sighed. Later in my room, she told me now that she know why Dad supported me so much.
I did not have so much time to think about this. I was invited to perform at a drag convention. My Dad had a perfect costume for me. He was going to dress me as Madonna once did with pointed cones. When I looked in the mirror, I felt so ridiculous. I was afraid that I would poke someone's eye out. My mum was mad when she saw me. She said no 10-year-old should be dressed like that! My Dad did not listen as he knew what he was doing.
I nearly refused to go to the convention. However, when I saw what the people in drag were dressed like, I figured I was not so strange. I went along with it and sang some of Madonna’s songs. I quickly forgot how I looked and was consumed by the live performance. Once again, I was in my own world where I could sing my heart out. When I was done, the audience loved me. I loved this attention and did not want to get off the stage.
While the audience loved me, the media did not. I was criticized for being at a convention where only adults should be. I was criticized for being sexualized and this was a bad example for other children. My mom and sister took this negative coverage very badly. My dad did not care and said that there will always be haters. When I spoke with Erin on the telephone, I started to cry in desperation.
“Why does everyone hate me?” I cried, “Why did Dad think that this was a good idea? Why can I never say no to him? I did not want to go there! I did not want to dress like that! Now everyone hates me!”
Erin told me it will blow over. She also told me that I should learn a lesson from all this. I should be the person that I wanted to be and dress the way that made me happy. I was still a child and should not dress like an adult. I knew that Erin was right. I vowed to myself that I would never make this mistake again. The thing was that I was not allowed to forget this. I did not think that it could be worse at school, but it did become worse. I found out that parents warned their children not to be around me, as I was a bad influence. The names that I was called became much worse. They were names that I never heard but quickly found out what they meant. I think that the worse thing was that I was beaten up. This made me worry about my life. It was also hard to see my mom break down and cry when she had to pick me up at the school nurse.
I stayed home after this for a few days. A woman from child welfare came. She was very worried about how my parents were treating me. While Dad once again explained how much they supported me during my transition from being a boy to being transgendered. The lady said that this was fine, but she was worried about my performance at the drag convention and what I was wearing. She did not think it was appropriate and it made her think that I was forced to do it. While she was talking, I could see that mom looked very worried. It made me think that child services would take me away and I would be in some child's home. This thought made me shiver with fear. I interrupted the lady and said, “I am a girl. I may have been born in a boy's body, but I am a girl. My parents and sister have supported me all the way. I am very happy. It was my ideal to perform at that place and dress as Madonna. I did not think of the consequences or what others may think. For me, it was just a bit of fun. My mom and dad told me that I have to listen to them and not just always do what I want. I know that I will not dress like this again or perform at such a place. I do not want to be taken from my parents.”
Not totally the truth, was it?
The social worker would not take any action and admitted that we can all make mistakes. She could see that we were a loving family. She advised that I should see someone who could help me with my identity. When she left, Dad was mad and said that I did not need a shrink. My mom told him to be quiet. She told him that everyone thought that I was being forced to do things. Everyone was shocked at the way I dressed. Mom thought they were right in a way. She thought that it was fine that I was transgendered, but no 10-year-old should act like a drag queen and hang out with them. To make things worse, she told dad that I was bullied at school and had no friends whatsoever. She told everyone that I was now going to a private school where I would not be traumatised. Dad had no choice but to agree.
So I was sent to the same school as Erin. I was so happy to get out of the old school and start at a new school. I would be with my best friend every day. I did not mind that it took a long time to travel to and from school every day. I was not bullied and started making new friends. The others did not care that I was transgender or well-known on social media. They thought that I was nice and that was all that mattered. They did call me pinky or Pinkster. I did not mind this. It was a nickname that was given of affection and acceptance. I remembered the first day that I came home from school, I gave my mom a huge hug and thanked her.
While it seemed that everyone had learned a lesson, it was obvious that Dad did not. One day he picked me up at school and told me that I had to go to the doctor. I did not understand as I was not sick. When we were at the doctor's, the doctor told me that I would be getting a puberty blocker injection. I had no clue what he was talking about. I just stared at the huge needle while he explained that it would help me not experience puberty as a boy. I would get a shot every so often. On top of this, I would get some tablets that will give me some hormones that a girl should have. The shot hurt a lot. It was only after that I thought about what it all meant. I would start looking less like a boy and more like a girl! I am not sure that I even wanted this.
On the way home, my Dad warned me not to tell mom about the shot or the tablets. She would not understand.
I just nodded my head and looked out the car window. I hated keeping secrets from my mother. Maybe Dad was right that she would not understand. I did not understand either.
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