TW: Internalized homophobia and transphobia
There is no such thing as a single experience in the LGBT+ community, some experiences are my own, some stem from those I love. We are all different and we all have our own stories to tell. There is no right or wrong way to be trans.
Oliver
A loud knock on the door of the dorm caught me off guard, making me jump slightly in my chair before getting quickly to feet to answer it. Julia had texted me, essentially demanding to know if I was here, but I hadn't expected her to make it here so promptly, or to be so aggressive.
"One moment."
"Oliver Polanger, you have exactly three seconds to open this door!" She shouted, clearly quite angry. I couldn't imagine why… I had only just seen her two days ago, when I had made the mistake of kissing Raul. Was that what this was about?
Unlocking it, I barely had a chance to turn the handle when Julia burst into the room, grabbing me by a chunk of hair and dragging me into my bedroom as I yelped in pain.
"What are you doing!?" I yelled as she slammed the door closed, throwing me toward my bed. I hardly caught myself, nearly winding up on the floor. "You have no right to treat me like this!"
"You tell me what you did!"
"Julia, I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"What the hell did you do to my brother!?"
She grabbed me by the front of my shirt, pulling me into her with what seemed like every intention of putting a fist directly into my face. This entire thing must have been about me kissing him, he must have told her and she must have thought I had forced myself on him or something.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset him, truly I didn't. I just… I thought maybe he liked me too. It was just a kiss, though. He ran inside immediately, he left me outside alone."
In what felt like less than a second, the tension in the room dropped. Julia let go of me, causing me to stumble backwards and onto the floor. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply and bringing a hand to her face. She seemed immediately relieved, as though an intense weight had lifted itself from her.
"That's what happened?" She said quietly. "You made a move on my brother?"
"I kissed him. He didn't kiss me back, then he ran inside."
She took a seat on my bed, holding her palm to her hairline and bringing her fingers through her bangs, she was sweaty and her face ran red.
"You should have told me."
"Why? It's our business, if he wanted you to know he would have told you."
"Raul hasn't spoken a word since he came home that day."
"What do you mean he hasn't spoken?"
"He's gone mute again, just nods or shakes his head at me, won't tell me what happened. He used to do it back when we were-" She picked her head up, looking at me for a moment and turning away. "When we were younger, sometimes for hours and sometimes for weeks."
Embarrassment fell over my face as I eyed the ground in front of me, fidgeting my feet as they hung over the side of the bed.
"I didn't mean to… I thought-"
"Do you have feelings for my brother?"
Now it was my turn to have a red face, heat rising at the same time a weight fell into my stomach. This was completely humiliating.
"I don't know." I mumbled. "I mean, he's really sweet and he's… well… attractive."
I had never admitted finding another guy physically attractive, at least not out loud.
"You should know better."
"You never told me his anxiety could get that intense."
"Not about that- Now that I know what happened I think he'll be okay, he isn't sure how to turn you down and it's getting to him. I'm saying you should have known he didn't like you that way."
She was frowning at me, taking hold of my hand as soon as I sat next to her. Not romantically, but squeezing it like you might with an upset child. I wasn't a coward though, if I wanted something I went for it, that was simply who I was.
"I can't read minds, Julia." I said with a roll of my eyes.
"You shouldn't have to, you've known Raul is gay since you met him."
"Yeah, that's exactly why I went for it. I wouldn't make a move on a straight guy."
"Are you seriously still this in denial?"
I genuinely didn't understand what it was that she was getting at. It was a slow process, but I was trying to be more open about who I was. The fact that I wasn't yet willing to tell anyone didn't mean I had done nothing. She had to understand the environment I had been raised in, though. Coming out wasn't something that people I knew did, it was something swept under the rug. I had a family that cared about me, but realistically I wasn't sure whether or not my parents would ever approve of who I was. Julia had never had to face the fear of being disowned, I did.
"I'm not in denial of anything..." I mumbled.
Instead of giving me a witty comeback, she got quiet. Her eyes no longer held any anger or resentment, she wasn't upset with me. She did look upset at herself, though.
"Do you think the person who I am is a death sentence?" She asked. "Do I just gross you out?"
"Of course not."
"So why are you so afraid of admitting who you are?"
"I'm not."
"I understand if you aren't ready to be completely out yet, I really do. I get that we're young and that some of us are still figuring ourselves out, but I've seen you for who you really are. I've seen how happy you are when you're being yourself… Sometimes I just wish I could help her to not always be silenced."
I stood up, no longer willing to look at her. I wanted Julia to leave… now.
"I'm not some doll for you to play with and make into what you want."
"That isn't what I'm saying at all, Liv."
"What if I'm not the person you think I am? What if you're wrong about everything you're deciding about me? You've put all of these thoughts in my head… I wasn't confused before you and now look at me! I'm not some experiment for you to mess with because you thought it would be fun to be that mentor who makes me realize who I am. You decided who I was before you even knew me; you clung to this idea that I needed to change and now I'm stuck in some limbo that I can't get out of. I don't want to be like you, Julia, I just want to be normal and every day I spend with you I feel more and more like a freak. How can I be happier letting out the thing I've been fighting since I was five to keep inside? The thing that caused everyone in my life to laugh at me like what I told them about myself was just a big joke? They laughed in my face, Julia. They told me every single day that I was wrong, that I was confused, that I didn't know who I was-"
"So who are you?!" Julia interrupted, getting to her feet.
"I don't know!"
"Yes you do! Why can't you just say it? Why do you insist on treating yourself like this? Who you are isn't some curse, you aren't a freak who has to be locked away or a monster that has to be slayed. It's okay, Ollie and I will repeat that every day if that's what it takes to get it through your thick skull. It's okay!"
"What do you want from me?"
"I want you to say it."
"I can't"
"Yes, you can."
For so many years of my life I had worked hard to control any and all emotions. I had given it everything I had to be what my family told me I was and to fill the roll I was supposed to fill. When I wasn't even yet old enough to start school I had been told I was a prodigy, that I was gifted, that I would grow up to do great things… yet no one ever took the time to trust that I knew who I was. When I picked up on my third language by four they trusted I knew what I was talking about, when I corrected my tutors at six they trusted I knew what I was talking about. Yet, everything I said about who I was continued to be thrown back at me. I was too young to understand, I was confused, I didn't know any better.
But I did.
I always had.
Julia held my shoulders while my hands trembled. I couldn't look at her, I wasn't sure I had the self esteem at that moment to look at anyone, not even in a mirror.
It's okay.
Through quivering lips, I felt the words I had held onto for so long emerge, finally free from the prison I had locked them in.
"I don't feel like a boy…"
"So what do you feel like?"
"Like I'm pretty sure I'm trans."
The more the term and its definition played over and over in my head, the more clear it all kept becoming. Within the past month I had suddenly been given a word that explained everything about myself that I didn't understand.
I was transgender. The body I was born into had never stopped me from being a girl, no matter how many people tried to claim that it did.
And I wasn't in denial anymore…
xxx
I had asked Julia to give me some space for the time being. I needed time to process everything and wanted to do so alone, shut within the confines of my room not feeling sad or happy or even numb, but instead in a state of just taking it all in. I had figured it out while ago, hoping that if I didn't acknowledge it that I wouldn't have to deal with it. After all, there were plenty of guys who cross dressed.
I wasn't one of them, though…
Within the deepest crevices of my mind, I had never stopped knowing it.
Thinking back to what had happened a few nights ago, I began finding myself replaying Enrique's kiss over and over in my head. It was a less than pleasant experience, mostly because he was an absolutely terrible kisser, but something about it made it hard for me to shake off. Fingers running through my hair, hand clutched to the cress of my back, bodies pressed together… It was something that he knew so well and I knew so little. Not that I wanted to sleep with him or anything, on the contrary I had little interest with having sex with anybody, even if I did deal with the same hormonal urges as most others. Maybe when I was older it would be something to explore but currently, well… I had other stuff to figure out. It was the concept of being treated like a woman that brought me back to it. It was true that someone really ought to have a discussion with Enrique regarding what qualifies as consent, even knowing that he would have stopped had I told him to without slapping him, but what if it had been with someone who I wanted the same thing from? How would it have ended? He had put his hands on me the way a man does a woman and that was what kept me thinking about it. I had never been interested in body exploration and always assumed it was due to being a late bloomer, but was I just that detached from my own body?
I still didn't completely understand it. I had assumed it would be so black and white and yet everything I read online felt so gray. I didn't need to be feminine or want to wear dresses or make up in order to identify as female, but it was okay if I did, right? Was I falling into a stereotype by loving what I saw in the mirror the day I put that dress on, or by wanting to use my face as an art canvas and cosmetics as my paint? Hell, it wasn't even required to want anything done surgically; apparently a lot of transgender people opted not to have bottom surgery at all, but was it also okay for me to want what was there to… well… not be there? I had always found it to be an inconvenience and it had always tormented my self esteem when wearing shorts, fearing that something might be visible and I absolutely could not even fathom how on earth some men wore boxers. In only a few days I would be out in public wearing a gown. Of course, my face would be covered, that was a given, but it still felt like a big step.
Getting off of the bed, I took my hidden bag of cosmetics from the top drawer of my dresser, setting it at my desk in reach of the mirror I currently stared into. Pulling my bangs up in a scarf, I exposed my forehead in order to give myself more skin to work with before starting my normal moisturizing routine. I had attempted to pluck my eyebrows the day before and although they didn't look bad, it was fairly easy to tell I hadn't known what I was doing. Still, I patted my face with concealer and a matte foundation that was just a tiny bit too light for my skin tone, which I hadn't known was even possible as I found myself to be quite pale, taking another moment to focus on my progress in the mirror before taking the proper pencil to my somewhat botched brows, focusing mostly just on making them symmetrical.
That was really enough… if I went too far it would be clear that I was wearing make up. Adding a touch of blush to my cheekbones, I continued staring at myself, desperately wanting to do something with my eyes and lips. I could probably get away with mascara, it would be hard to tell I was wearing it if you weren't actively looking for it. Honestly I couldn't help but wonder if a lot of trans artists found themselves in this predicament- the girl ones I suppose I mean, not that I would judge either way. Raul was male and didn't even identify as trans, yet he wore make up, even if it sometimes appeared to be against his will.
Removing the scarf from my head, I pulled half of my hair into a ponytail, letting the shortest of my bangs fall gracefully onto my forehead. I was currently quite jealous of Enrique's freckles, which I decided at that moment would look cute on me as I stripped down, grabbing a bag of clothing I had been hiding and going through it. There was a cream colored sweater I had gotten recently that I had yet to try on, mostly excited that I had a matching beret.
Pulling it over my head, I damn near screamed as a loud knock sounded on my bedroom door which I suddenly no longer trusted was locked.
"Oliver?" Enrique called, almost seeming unsure of himself.
"What?" I didn't mean to sound irritated, but I had a lot on my mind right now and he was a part of that lot. I didn't feel ready to face him yet, even knowing that he hadn't realized it was me that he kissed. Not to mention I was currently in the process of putting on a rather feminine sweater I had gotten from the women's section as well as the fact that I didn't have pants on.
"Are you like… okay?"
"I'm fine, I have a huge test to study for right now and I can't have any distractions."
There it was.
Once again I was lying to my best friend.
And once again I was pretending I wasn't thinking about him…
xxx
I knocked on Julia and Raul's dorm, waiting impatiently for someone to open it, the someone being one of their other roommates, a rather tall redhead by the name of Tim.
"Good morning," I spoke clearly, putting my hand out for him to shake. He ignored me, which I personally found to be extremely bad manners. Introductions were rather necessary when entering the home of someone else, especially if you didn't know them well.
Raising a rather annoyed brow, I shrugged it off before making my way to Julia's room where she sat on the floor putting the finishing touches on one of the gowns she had made. Raul was on the bed, seldom looking at anything but his fidgeting hands and blushing at the realization that I had entered. I wondered if he was still refusing to speak.
"Your roommate is quite rude." I said, crossing my legs onto the floor.
"Hey, not everyone took Finishing School as an extra curricular activity."
"I was valedictorian in Finishing School, thank you very much."
"Why am I not surprised?" She gave me a cheeky smirk, sticking her tongue out with a small giggle. "Anyway, I have everything set up for the festival, right now I want to primarily work on getting you two in hair and make up."
She signaled for Raul to come sit down on the floor, an act that he obeyed without hesitation. I was somewhat fearful of him sitting too close to me, afraid that my presence might make him feel worse than he actually did.
"Raul?" I said somewhat quietly, stopping myself from putting my hand on top of his. "I'd like to apologize one more time to you. What I did was completely inappropriate and I should have known better, it wasn't fair of me to put you in a position like that."
He nodded and I was able to make out the tiniest hint of the word 'fine', head remaining down.
Even knowing he would never be interested in me, I still felt a warmth within myself when in his presence. He really was who I would consider my first crush and that had meaning to me.
"You two never would have worked out." Julia laughed, switching sitting positions before running a brush through her brothers hair.
"Pardon?"
"Oliver, your self esteem may have taken a hit with everything this year, but you damn well know you're a Queen B, the two of you have way too much of a personality clash and there's no way in hell I would have ever sat around and let my brother unintentionally become your servant."
"Ollie." I corrected. She stopped what she was doing for the moment, likely now under the assumption that I had completely missed the point of what she said. I couldn't help but blush at my sudden blurt out. "Can you just call me Ollie?" I said more politely.
"Absolutely," She smiled. "Are you still okay with Livy?"
"Since when do you ask if I'm okay with Livy?"
I had liked having a nickname when I was little, something that felt neither masculine or feminine as well as making me feel more like part of something special. Johnny was the only one we still never called by his legal name, mostly because it separated him and his father as people. Calling him John felt too much like I was talking to his dad. Enrique was the only one who still sometimes called Robert by Robbie, mostly to piss him off, and Ricky had just never stuck with Enrique.
He was the only member of the team who still called me Ollie.
"Hey, Julia?" I asked somewhat shyly, only being responded to my a hum that meant she acknowledged that I wanted to ask a question. "Can I do my own make up?"
xxx
For what had been a full two hours, our display had gone beautifully. No one recognized us or asked too many questions, simply watching our performance for several minutes before going on to the next thing. We had even gotten some applause.
Truly I had begun believing nothing could go wrong.
Until Enrique found us and opened his big, stupid mouth.
Now as everyone began returning to dorms and club buildings, Julia pulled me by the arm into their room, hard enough where on several occasions I nearly lost my balance, only just catching myself before plummeting into the ground. She really didn't know her full strength.
"You slept with Enrique?" She awed in disbelief, slamming and locking the door behind her.
"Absolutely not!" I yelled back at her, my face currently red enough where I no longer needed to wear blush. "That is not what happened! He didn't even know it was me!"
"That does not make it sound better. Haven't you known him since you were a toddler?"
"You're taking it all out of context, he was so drunk he could hardly stand up so I helped get him into bed."
"And do I want to know what happened in said bed? Keep in mind that if it involved you going anywhere near his dick that the answer is no."
"He kissed me."
"And?"
"That's all. To be completely honest he's an absolutely terrible kisser."
"How would you know? You've only ever tongued my brother."
"I did not!"
She began stripping down from the gown she wore, not seeming particularly bothered by undressing in front of me. It was almost odd seeing another body that looked so similar to my own, lacking any natural curves and having hips that just didn't exist. She had the type of body you would normally find on a younger man, yet she didn't. Honestly, Enrique would probably be jealous that I saw her partly naked.
"So tell me why Romeo back there is so infatuated with you."
"He isn't" I rolled my eyes, sitting down on the bed and releasing my feet from the death grip that are heels. "He blacked out, I think he's just trying to piece together what happened. He seems to think we hooked up."
"Does it catch your attention at all that your best friend also thinks that you're beautiful?"
She was smirking at me now, a cheekiness unable to hide itself behind evil, yet playful, eyes. I wasn't sure it was possible for me to blush anymore than I already was, taking a make up wipe rather aggressively to my face and hoping it might just look like I was red from scrubbing too hard.
"He thinks a girl he doesn't know is beautiful."
"I'm not sure you've caught on to this, but that girl is you. Did you see the way he eyed you up and down? He was absolutely picturing you naked."
"He's seen me naked."
Her teasing was somewhat relentless, though I knew she meant no harm in it. The entire thing just felt awkward, though. Enrique meant the world to me, we had stuck together through a lot in our lives and no matter how different we were, we never let those differences get in the way of our friendship. Robert and Johnny had always gotten along better with each other, where the two of us tended to find our own thing to do.
"How drunk was he if he couldn't even remember it the next morning?"
"That's the problem right now… Ever since he found out he got Bianca pregnant his drinking has been getting worse. I mean, a lot worse. I'm not sure when the last time I saw him sober was."
"You think he's becoming dependent?"
"It's something I've been sitting on for awhile." I explained, "I've talked to Robert and Johnny about it a bit, but it's getting to the point where I think I need to get his brothers involved. I think he might be an alcoholic."
I had been keeping it on the down low for awhile now, but Enrique would be going back to Italy for the week and it seemed like it might be as good a time as ever to talk to Emanuele about my concerns, maybe get their parents involved if I had to. He had changed so much since starting school here, taking extreme advantage in the lack of supervision. He had bragged about having sex when he was fourteen and didn't seem to see any sort of problem with it. The party crowd had really had an effect on him that concerned me more the older we got. When we were kids he had wanted a girlfriend so badly, talking about all of the things he would do in order to take care of her…
I couldn't help but wonder what the twelve year old he once was would think of the person he had become by seventeen. A serial cheater with a pregnant girlfriend he never even bothered calling.
He needed help.
Before the baby got here, he needed help…
