I truly hate my life.
It’s not like my parents beat me or my teachers and classmates are determined to make my life a living hell, (which 30% actually do), but I just hate my life.
Why am I saying that?
- I am afraid of being known as a gay boy. It’s already bad enough that people are being teased for being gay; I’m not about to go down that path.
- I don’t want to be different. I want to be like the other boys, the ones who love video games and talking about girls. Not boys like me, who likes girl things. I’m supposed to be a boy. I should act like a boy.
- I just want to be a normal boy, not a boy with the nice clothes and the gelled-up hair and nice shoes. My parents would go through the roof if they found out that I was dressing like some sort of wierdo.
So, what am I to do with myself? I won’t cry out for help; it means that I am weak. My parents didn’t raise a weakling. I had to do something now or else I would be at the end of my rope.
I took some scissors and chopped off all my hair until it was in a style that was acceptable to a boy. I then put my “nice clothes” in the closet and took out scores of t-shirts and jeans. I switched from loafers to sneakers. It was time for the boy part of me to come out.
When I went back to school the next day, everyone turned around and saw me. No one could say a word, other than, “Why are you dressed like that? That outfit is lame. That’s not you.” I shook my head and walked on by. I had better things to do than to respond to their criticisms.
But I did receive a message telling me to go meet with the school counselor at lunch. I can’t believe it. To tell you the truth, she did corner me and said that I should not have done what I did, that it was OK to just be myself. I glare at her; since when was it OK to “just be myself”? People who try to be themselves usually end up committing suicide or shoot up the school. I wasn’t about to do either.
I said to her, “I’m losing my identity as a boy. I want to be a regular boy, not some kind of girly-man. I know it’s painful to hear this, but I have to learn about what is and isn’t acceptable and then apply that to my life. Did you know that I was teased and made fun of because I liked girly things for the past few weeks? Did you know that the other boys called me names because of that? I couldn’t even walk the halls, for fear that someone might try to beat me up. That is why I had to change.”
The counselor shook her head and said, “Sometimes, you can’t just force yourself to do what other people do. You are different for a reason. You have to learn to suck up all the cruel words and carry on with your life. Stop trying to change who you are meant to be.”
“But if who you’re meant to be goes against what God wants you to be, then there’s going to be some problems,” I argued back. “Who am I to argue with God over what my life should and shouldn’t be?”
I left the room in disgust, making plans to talk to the pastor after church on Sunday. I knew that, yes, I’ll have to carry on with my life, but I want to live a life that is pleasing to both man and God. I refuse to give into the lies of the secular culture and its false promises of tolerance.
I will carry on. I must keep going.
- Trying To Be A Swan (sainiurshita.wordpress.com)
- Pink (xpinkdiamondsx.wordpress.com)
- First Post on Girly Blog – Am I a girly girl? (girlybloguk.wordpress.com)
- The Body That Betrays (mymiddleameisfruitcake.wordpress.com)
- Chapter seven (theunexpectedguestbook.wordpress.com)