Read Online Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin - Free Book Online

annoying — it really is. I just realized that right now.
    You know what I also realized right now? I know what it’s like to be in the boys’ bathroom and I know what it’s like to be in the girls’ bathroom. I think the boys are way more disgusting than the girls.
    By April, my breasts started growing. I was surprised and excited. I was the only boy in class with tight shirts and budding breasts. Everyone wanted to touch them. Of course I let them. It just feels like flesh; it feels like nothing.
    Then the time came when I first put on a bra. Now, that scared me! It was so uncomfortable. I had been going the whole year flat-chested. I was comfortable being a gender bender, not yet comfortable being a girl. Once I put on a bra, I knew this was it. That was when people needed to see me as a girl.
    Before I put on the bra, I told my friends, “If you want to call me Christina, great. If you want to call me Matthew, that’s fine too. But once I make full transition, don’t you dare call me Matthew.”
    In the beginning of my transition, I would literally panic if I didn’t get my hormone shot. Now I forget to take it. I say, “Oh, I’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll do it next week.” I’m trying to get back on a schedule. I took it two weeks ago. I take it every two weeks and that’s annoying. I hate it with all my heart. The thing is biological girls don’t have to do that. They don’t have to put a shot in their thigh just to maintain their figure. But because I’m transgender, I have this constant worry.
    I can tell when I don’t take my shot because I start to feel physical changes. I start to lose my shape, my hourglass. My skin feels rougher. I grow facial hair quicker.
    During Christina’s gender-bending stage, people were attacking her right and left. Christina’s mother was having a very hard time dealing with one gay son and another who was becoming a daughter. But Christina was unhappy and in danger.
    Her mom says, “At that time Christina still had the features of a man. She was dressing like a girl, but she didn’t look like a girl. It was very hard. Imagine me waiting for her to come home. I was always afraid something happened to her: somebody attacked her, or somebody said something to her. I said, ‘Baby, you can’t wear so much makeup. You can’t do that. You’re in a boys’ school.’ She’s a fighter. She fought. That’s how I taught her.”
    In spite of her feelings and reservations, Christina’s mother pulled out her credit card and bought her daughter breast implants. “Now she looks more like a woman,” Christina’s mom says proudly. And the bond between mother and daughter grew stronger.
    I used to go to the gym a lot but I stopped ’cause I was losing my hips. That looked masculine. And there it goes again with my whole fear of being all man. I started eating more to gain back my hips. I didn’t want to end up like my friend, a transgender girl who’s so worried about looking male, she’s afraid to go outside.

    An announcement over the loudspeaker:
“Let me remind you: You cannot bring a same-sex person to the prom. You cannot wear a dress to the prom.”
    And everybody started laughing when they announced that. “Oops, sorry, Matthew, you can’t wear a dress.” It was so annoying.
    “Okay, I may not be wearing a dress, but I definitely am going to look like a girl.” I bought a woman’s tuxedo that was curved at the waist, and it made me look hourglass. I wore a pink button-down shirt, open. I bought one-inch, peep-toe heels. I got my hair done and extensions put in to make my hair look long. I had my nails done and my makeup and my eyebrows and everything. I thought I looked great. I was so happy. My friend Josephine, who I’ve known since first or second grade, came with me.
    I think the prom was a good experience. I had a lot of fun, actually. By that point a lot of the seniors accepted me and we were friends. Even if they weren’t my friends, they treated me