I woke up Monday morning in August and my first thought was “I should just die to kill my pain”.
A year before I had been diagnosed with manic depression and the lingering darkness within me was mainly fueled by the secret I was hiding, I am transgender. Looking in the mirror caused me physical pain. The worst part was the fact that my mom had no idea. She would always tell me “be more girly” meanwhile I already felt like I was girly enough having been born the wrong gender.
That Monday I woke up and knew I had to tell her, someone, anyone really. My mum would do anything to protect me and my brother to keep us happy and safe. I sat her down that morning. She had been cooking and my tears told her that she had to sit down before my mouth did. “Mom….I don’t want to live like this anymore” I said, I remembered my heart was about to burst. The words kind of just fell out like it was just the right time. “I’m transgender. I’m a boy mom.” Her reply? “I know.” It was plain as if she had accepted it, but pained as though it hurt her. “I love you no matter what, but yes I’m disappointed in a way” we talked for hours until our hearts stopped hurting and finally she and I could be happily free because she knew everything and I could finally say “Yes, I’m transgender and my name is Asher.”