This is not meant to be directed at anybody in particular...just people in general...this is a personal rant that I turned into a one shot written by Haruka about what she's feeling...
I Hate...
-I hate the way they look at me, yet don't ask questions.
-I hate the way they look at my nametag, dumbstruck.
-I hate the way they look at each other, grinning, thinking I can't see.
-I hate the way they look at my girlfriend and I when she says "baby girl" to me.
-I hate the disgusted looks I get.
-I hate it when they call me ma'am and then 'correct' themselves and call me sir.
-I hate the feeling I get when I just know someone's watching me.
-I hate being carded for something because it reveals my true sex.
-I hate my physical sex.
-I hate the feelings that I feel daily.
-I hate feeling as if I want to curl up and die.
-I hate wanting to scream and cry all at the same time.
-I hate having to go into the women's restroom.
-I hate being told I'm in the wrong bathroom.
-I hate being starred at.
-I hate not being asked "Why are you in here?"
-I hate looking at myself in the mirror.
-I hate being told I'm beautiful.
-I hate my mom telling me I should grow out my hair.
-I hate my mom saying how things look 'pretty' on me.
-I hate the memories I have from high school.
-I hate being blatantly laughed at.
-I hate being whispered about.
-I hate looking at the scars on my wrists.
-I hate wanting to do it again.
-I hate wanting to release the pain through blood.
-I hate not having the urge to function.
-I hate not having a counselor close to me.
-I hate the cost for help.
-I hate the distance I must travel for help.
-I hate not being able to verbalize my problems.
-I hate being female…
Trust me, when you look at me in all your confused glory, you're not alone. I'm just as confused as you are. I think we share a mutual confusion too. "What is that?" I know you've all thought it before. Although I think it everyday. Everyday of my life I'm wondering why I'm here. I wonder why I'm always forced to go into the women's bathroom. I wonder what my life would have been like growing up if I was born as Jacob instead of Jennifer. Would I have been picked on for liking women, for being very quiet, or for packing on a few extra pounds? Would I have ever cut myself or nearly overdosed on aspirin when I was 16 years old? I'll never know the answers to those questions. Neither will you, neither will any of you.
Don't tell me that you know what I'm going through. How could you possibly understand what's going through my head each day? You don't understand, you can't. You aren't someone born in the wrong body. You aren't a woman who wants to be a man, or a man who wants to be a woman. Each day I feel as though it's a battle. This IS a life or death situation for me. Each day that passed, my pain grows. It's starting to become unbearable.
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Author's Note: I know some of you already know this…I needed to get it out though, after what happened at work. Let's just say I was laughed at. That's all I'm going to say because it hurts to know that people still carry so much hatred for other people.