What does the word: brave mean to you? To me it means not to be strong like Superman or to live life as a dare devil, but to take a risk. I, myself took a HUGE risk and that one risk forever changed my life. My name is Charlie Sly I am 13 years old and I now live my life as the boy I truly am inside.
Birth of Charlie
I’ve always been a boy inside but my stupid birth defect proved me wrong at times. Since I was 3 years old I started showing signs of being male. I always begged my parents to buy me boy clothes, had a giant tantrum whenever I was forced into girls clothes, would stand up and use the toilet and even tell my mom I was a boy whenever she called me a girl. My father couldn’t handle the fact that his “daughter” wanted to become his “son” many of the people who knew us would whisper and glance over at me. One day he just packed his things and left us. In school the kids taunted, judged, and bullied me for expressing my feelings. One time when I snuck into the boy’s bathroom two boys tried to pull my pants off. Another time some girls came up to me at lunch and asked if I had been born a mutant freak. Sometimes when people came near me I would freeze up and run off. I would hide behind the staircase or in the bathroom I skipped class and would spend hours writing in a tiny notebook. I cried myself to sleep from those memories. By the time I was 9 my mom changed my schools because the bullying got so bad. I reached my boiling point when a group of kids beat me up on my way home from school. I ran home and grabbed a pocket knife from the basement and tried to cut my wrist but my mom caught me and sent me to rehab.
I began to heal later on after 5 months and soon enough I met a girl name Lisa who was born a boy named Jim. She told me that she was a transgender an MtF male to female and that she is proud of herself because she felt so alone before. Thinking back on it I really wished my life had been different.






Out and Proud
Here I held the letter in my hand that would either improve or destroy my life forever. Taking a deep breath I scanned over it and re-read it for the fifth time today. The letter was for my mother. I was going to explain to her about her having a son instead of a daughter and the fact that I was a transgender. Standing up from my chair I paced back and forth causing a small wind to form. “Ok Charlie just breathe and relax….mom will understand our little problem just…” said I to myself as he felt sweat drip down his forehead. My hands and whole body was shaking from the thought of my mom disowning me. My hands became wet from the amount of sweat on them and my heart was beating faster than a NASCAR racing down a track. Breathing in and out slowly I looked at myself in a mirror. My long straight sand white hair fell past my shoulders, my open oversize blue and white button down hung off my top half and my baggy brown jeans seemed to almost fall off my behind. “Stupid hair! Stupid birth defect! Stupid Brittney!” I mumbled, slowly I lifted up a pair of scissors and began to cut off my hair until it was past my ears. Smiling at my sloppy hand work I cleaned up the mess and combed my hair back and fixed it into a swipe bang style. A bomb exploded in my gut and made me feel a bit dizzy and uneasy.
Stepping out the room slowly I tried to erase the thoughts of the hurtful words from my former classmates. From a view I could see my mother Rachael watching TV in the living room. Swallowing the huge lump in my throat I made my way down toward her. “Hello Brittney how is my baby girl?” asked my mom as she smiled at me. Looking down at my sneakers I handed her the letter and sat down beside her. I couldn’t dare look her in the eye as she found out the truth. “Wow…I didn’t know you felt this way Brit-“she started by was cut off by my words. “No mom! No more Brittney! My name is Charlie, Charlie! As in he, his, and him your son!” I shouted at her. Noticing her face become a little fearful she set her hand on top of my balled fist. “Sweetheart this is just a phase” “You’re my little girl no matter what you dress like or how you feel you’re always going to be my little girl” she said stroking my thumb. Glaring down I sniffed softly while trying to hold my tears back from falling. “M-M-Mom I…I can’t anymore I rather die than live another day as Brittney I hate myself…I hate my body…that’s why I always tried to make my chest flat and look boyish” I whispered softly, watching as my tears fell from my eyes. Being bought into a warm hug I held onto my mother tightly bawling my eyes out. “We’re going to get through this Brit…we will I promise” she swore as she stroked my hair.





Keeping It Together
Several weeks later…
I woke up to the morning sun and groaned as I felt my headache begin again. For the past few nights I’ve been crying myself to sleep because I couldn’t handle the fact that my own mother said that I will always be a girl to her. I would have nightmares that my mom would yell and beat me because she hated the fact that I was transgender. I lay awake at night and write poems about how I feel about all of this. I remember going down stairs one afternoon and my mom was talking on the phone with someone. I was shocked to hear what she said.
“Stacie…I don’t know anymore she’s so strange now I mean for crying out loud she thinks she’s a boy! I had a daughter not a son…I can’t let go of Brittney no matter what she feels like” said my mom to the other person over the phone. Glancing down I thought: She really loves Brittney that much…more than her own son… Running upstairs I slammed my door shut and cried into my pillow.
Rolling out of bed I began to get dress and went to take a quick shower. Drying my short hair I stared at myself in the mirror. Below my waist I looked like any other guy but on top my chest was noticeable by two small lumps. Breathing slowly I bend over to brush my teeth but stopped when I notice an ACE bandage under the cabinet. Trying to catch my breath again I grabbed onto the bandage and eyed it like it was the jackpot. “This will help flatten my chest until I can get a binder” I said as I began to unwrap it. Placing on end under my right armpit I wrapped round and round until I had both clips connected together. It took me a few tries but finally I got my chest flatten a little. My breathing was shallow and my ribs felt tight like they were about to break and crack. Slipping on my Three Days Grace t-shirt I freshen up and rushed downstairs. Smiling to the smell of fresh chocolate chip pancakes, pork bacon, and sunny side eggs I was in my sit in the blink of an eye. “Good morning Brit-I mean sweetie are you hungry?” asked my mother, as she glanced down at me. Her red cooking apron hugged her sides and she held a cup of hot coco in her hand. Nodding my head “yes” I picked up fork and dug in. In my head I thought: I get the fact that she needs time to understand and settle but got da** it! I hate it when she tries to call me Brittney but then covers it up with a pet name like sweetie or hun or baby. Chewing down on some bacon I glared up at her and watched as she smiled at the sun. “Mom you promise you would try I’m your son Charlie, Brittney is gone” I said while swallowing. She looked down at some wet dishes and mumbled something. All I caught was she’s and gone. Looking down my hunger died out and I pushed away from the table. “I’ll be in my room” I mumbled and grabbed my hot coco and walked upstairs.




Fear of One’s Self
Sitting at my wooden desk I stared down at my drink. Small streams came up and vanished into thin air. Closing my eyes I kept wishing I could fall into a black hole. My mother and I been distance for the past few week since I came out she doesn't say anything when I correct her and tell her I’m her son and that Brittney is gone. I shifted my glaze over at a photo frame. It was a family photo I was 2 years old but at that time Brittney was alive and Charlie never existed. I slowly traced my finger over my father and mother they use to be very close until I started to change after that everything seemed different. Sighing I rested my head on my desk and in less than a second everything went black.
Inside my mind I saw a mirror one side held me and other side held a girl with long curly blond hair, piercing green eyes, wore a white sun dress and held a wicked smirk on her face. It was Brittney… Glaring at her I held onto my fist and growled between my teeth. “This is who you are Charlie join me and we can make mother and everyone else proud” she said as she reached out to touch me. Stepping back I fell back and everything seemed to move slowly. Voices echoed through my head. “YOU’RE A GIRL! STOP BEING A DA** FREAK! IDIOT! LOSER! IT-THING! MONSTER! EWW! GROSS! KILL THE MUTANT! YOU WILL NEVER BE ACCEPTED!” attacked the assaulting words from all around I tried to block them out by covering my ears but they kept getting louder and louder. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” I screamed in fear and stared to fall down to my knees. Falling through a black lake I could see tiny bubbles from under my mouth…if I wasn’t drowning…then how was I alive? I turned around and heard a voice. I looked up to see a young girl around the age of 6 in an oversize blue shirt and white shorts. Her hair was messy and in a ponytail she was holding onto her head and had red puffy eyes. “Stop it…please stop it…I didn’t know it was wrong…please stop it….stop it…STOP IT!!!!” exploded the girl in rage. Everything felt heavy like a thousand bricks on my shoulders. I couldn't hold back any more anger or fear I punched the image and it broke apart like glass, shattering to pieces by one they fell to the ground. I felt my tears fall and burn my cheeks. It was like they were trying to keep me from crying. I’ve always been told that boys shouldn't cry because it made them look weak. I didn’t want to be weak anymore….I couldn’t be weak because I knew then I would let her win….
“Brittney wake up!” yelled my mom as she shook me and I jumped up from my chair and panted heavily. Looking down I notice my hot coco gone and that my hair was messy from the front. “Are you ok sweetie you looked a bit sick and you were sweating” my mom commented and she lead me over to my bed and laid me down. Resting my head against the pillow I breathed slowly. “Mom…” I said quietly. She looked down at me, gray eyes meeting green I patted the empty spot beside me and she sat down. “Remember when I was little and you would read me a book before bed or even let me sleep in your bed when I had a nightmare” I remarked sitting up against my elbow. “Yes and you made such a pretty girl” my mom reminded me as she stroked my bang softly. Closing my eyes and resting my head on her shoulder. I felt her arm wrap around my back and hold me close, knowing that things would get better. Smiling to myself I fell into a peaceful sleep. Waking up again I was tucked under my red and black sheets and yelled out for help from the acing pain and pressure on my ribs. “MO- AHHH!” I shouted loud enough to wake up the whole block trying to undress fast I tore the ACE bandage from my chest and breathed heavily. Looking down I had several red spots and one purple and blue bruise under my left armpit. Cursing to myself I collapsed on my bed again. My chest felt tight, my hands felt numb and tingly, my stomach felt like it was being kicked and stepped on by giants. “Hey sweetie how are you feeling?” I heard my mother’s voice ask me as my bedroom door swung open. In her hands were a plate of hot dogs and fried beans and a piece of paper. “Fine just a bit sore” I replied rubbing my sore waist. “What’s wrong hun?” she asked again sitting my food on my night stand and kneeing in front of me. Looking away my hair fell in front of my face and I flipped it out of the way. “I bind my chest with an ACE bandage and kept it on too long so it almost crushed my rib cage” I mumbled quietly hoping she wouldn’t hear. Sadly she did and picked up the torn and damage bandage. I sat there quietly until she left the room and I didn’t touch my food not once. I notice the paper and picked it up. Scanning over it my eyes widen as I realized it was a letter and from that moment my eyes began to tear up a bit from reading it.




Mother’s Letter
Dear, Charlie
I know these past few weeks I’ve been distance but that’s only because I can’t let go of the daughter I know and love. When I first gave birth to you, neither your father or I couldn’t control our tears from falling out. You made such a beautiful baby girl and I knew one day that you would make a wonderful wife and mother…but now all of my hopes and dreams for you are dead. I won’t be able to meet my future son in law or even see my grand kids. I remember the first day you started to act different. It was a warm summer evening and we went out to the town’s pool. I bought you a cute one piece bathing suit but your father instanced that you wear a pair of trunks and a t-shirt just in case. I wasn’t worry until some people mistook you for a boy and I felt a bit hurt and insulted. By then I started forcing you into girls clothes but your father notice that you began to get upset and allowed you wear boy clothes behind my back. I was furious with him and we started to argue telling him that we had a daughter not son. I know I’m getting off topic but…to be honest I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let go of Brittney. I will TRY to understand how you feel and help you on your transition. I will always love you but I just need time.
Love Your Mom,
Rachel




Rebirthing and Renew
Placing the letter down I looked down at my hands and tried to take in everything that I just read. As much as I love my mother, my heart broke a bit from reading that she will never let go of Brittney. Glaring over at the piece of paper I was about to tear it up but stopped myself. I stood up and grabbed the letter, fixed myself up and walked out the door. Walking down the stairs I saw my mother making dinner. “Mom…can we talk please?” I asked walking up to the counter and sitting on a stool. “Of course hun, what’s on your min-“she stopped talking when I showed her the letter. She looked down at her hands and bit her lip slightly. “I read it and I need you to let go of Brittney somehow ok…for me please, I miss dad as well but I-I-I want to be able to live as who I am” I explained to her and held her hands in mine. Nodding her head slowly she sniffed quietly. I could tell she was crying. I squeezed onto her hands and she told me something that I would never expect to hear. “I love you Charlie” smiling at me she kissed my cheek and stroked my hair. Feeling my eyes water up I smiled back and mumbled “I love you too mom…I love you too” jumping off the stool I went around and hugged her. Feeling her hug me back and whisper something in my ear. After that we ate dinner and she told me she was going to buy me a binder from Underworks. Nearly choking on my taco I looked at her like she grown five heads. “Watch I do my research son he, he” she joked and ate some more of her taco. For the first time in my life I felt closer to my mom then I have in a long time.





Aftermath
It’s been nearly 5 months since I’ve been living as Charlie and I must say I am impressive by how supportive my mom is of it. Whenever people would say I look nice or that her son is so handsome or sweet she would just smile and say yes he is. Can you believe it?! She now calls me he and her son no more Brittney. Alright know to more important matters. I think I’m in love or it might just be my new testosterone medicine kicking in. Her name is Alice Cooper and she is F-I-N-E, she’s in my math and science class. Mom switched my schools again to a LGBT friendly one for my safety and well being. Anyway journal, see you later.
Peace out- Charlie