Hi. My name is Alex, though I feel more like an Alexa.. maybe Alexandria. Ugh. You see, sometimes I feel like a guy and other times a girl. I guess it's a normal feeling for teens to feel. I'm only 15 after all.

So... you may be wondering, why am I writing about myself and everything that happens in my life now; to simply put it, my therapist suggested I do so. My first thought of it was to not do it, but my second thought was like, "why not give it a go?"

Let me tell you- er- me- ugh, whom ever might read, from the beginning.

It was the summer of 2021, and I had just turned 14 five months ago. I invited my (one and only) friend over to watch a My Hero Academia marathon. We were, and still are, crazy anime fans, especially over MHA. Anyway... my friend's name was Willow; she was about an inch shorter than me and had long, black hair with hazel brown eyes to complement them. I always thought she was pretty and still wonder to this day how I got lucky to have a friend like her. ...Off topic.

We were in my room, which was pretty... I guess comforting (I had many studies and posters, still do)? Our conversation was about Endeavor and how bad of a father he is towards his family... ha. Just when Willow was going to say something else about the character, my father yelled my name from downstairs.

"ALEX!!!", he yelled with all his nigh, making Willow jump out of fear. "Come down here right now and I mean it."

My heart began to race. Why am I getting all nervous m? What does he want this time?

"Alex, you can go", Willow reassured in her soft, calming voice. "I can wait up here while you deal with whatever he needs."

She doesn't know anything.. not a clue.

I got out of bed and went to my door, turning the handle slowly before pausing. "What does he want?", I mumbled under my breath. Anxiety occurs in me often, especially at times like this. I opened the door and walked out of my room, only to see my dad standing by the staircase.

Badump. Badump. Badump.

He walked towards me with an angry look in his greenish blue eyes. "Son, I have a question. You have to answer either yes or no."

Badump. Badump. Badump.

"...Okay? What's the question?" I felt so anxious about what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Alex", he grabbed my arms with a tight grip. "Are you a fag?"

BADUMP. BADUMP. BADUMP.

I was lost for words. Why would he ask- no. Why would he say that word?! It's very offensive, but of course he doesn't know that. I didn't know how to respond, I really didn't.

"Well, are you going to answer me? Or are you going to just stand there and look crazy?", he said, letting go of my arms.

I looked up at him with confidence and repeated his question. "Am I a fag?"

"Are you?", he questioned.

"Are you still a drunk piece of sh-"

Before I could finish my sentence, my father slapped my cheek violently. He hasn't done that in a while.

"Don't you DARE turn this around on me, you little runt! I'm telling your mother about this and about her having a fag for a son,"

I just stood there with my hand on my cheek, trying my best not to cry. Why would he do this while my friend is here? Had she heard everything? I hope not...

Willow exited out of my room and looked at my father, then me. "My mom's gonna take me back to school shopping. I'll text you once I get in the car, okay?"

"...Okay." I smiled at her.

She smiled back and walked pass my dad as she headed for the stairs, walking down.

The beast leaned down to me and whispered on my ear, "Just as soon as she gets here, I'll tell her."

I felt my heart racing again. I really wanted to cry, but if I did so in front of him, he'll use more hurtful words and slurs towards me.

He stood up and pushed me a little to the wall. "Now get your ass back in that room. Your faggy room."

Just after he said that, that's what I did. I got back in my faggy room, shut and locked the door, and laid in bed with my face into one of my pillows, crying.

Crazy, right? To summarize that whole thing... I didn't really know who I was back then. As a 14 year old, I was interested in makeup, shopping, skirts and dresses.. you know, pretty stereotypical girl things. I also enjoy video games, hardcore things- you know, guy things? Well, I can't say that girls can't enjoy those things either but... agh. My heart hurts.

Oh, the therapist part? Well, I began seeing one a few weeks ago; she's really nice. Why though? Unfortunately, my dad thought I was sick in the head, but I wasn't really the sick one. He was. I'm trying to get back to my present tense because it's hard for me to bring up stuff like my past, but whatever. At least I'm getting it all out.