Page 63 - Fallen Thoughts

I should know better than to start a discussion but I don’t stop myself from

saying, “Hey! I like that show.”

She ignores me, and I roll my eyes, “I have homework, I’ll be in my room if

you need me.”

“Okay, Louisa, I’ll be here.”

I wince at my given name. She doesn’t know that I go by a different name at

school, because I won’t tell her, but it still hurts when I’m referred to using she/her

or my birth name, Louisa.

As I lay on my bed, abandoning my homework, I run through my day in my

mind. Meeting Stella was amazing and I definitely want to go visit her moms as

often as possible. Honestly, I’m mostly concerned with the past five minutes. I

want to tell my parents, I hate lying to them but I’m terrified of what will happen if

I come out.

I stare at the ceiling and rehearse what I would say, if I could.

This is me.

I am Trans.

I am asexual.

I like girls.

But I can’t tell them because I’m still a child. I still have to live under my

parents’ roof for a year and a half. I can’t bear to be scorned by these people who

raised me.

They wouldn’t kick me out. They’re good people, but they wouldn’t be

happy.
I know this from every little comment. I see the way they look at LGBT+

representation in the media. I don’t stop hearing my extended family talking about
the transsexuals being predators of their daughters. Or how it’s unnatural and

greedy to like more than one gender.