Jason's Acceptance.

• Jypsie Beagley, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2016

Each day was pretty much hell for the boy, the boy that stood in his room, painted in the most hateful colours, pink, with patterns of fairies and flowers dotted here and there upon the poor boys walls, he tried his best to cover every inch of his walls with posters of his favourite bands, with posters of his drawings.
He couldn’t help each day he had to look in the mirror to see the person he hated, himself, he hated how he couldn’t wear most types of clothes, and he hated how he looked. Body wise of course, the boy was born in the body, the wrong sex. His hips curved like most girls, his nails grew ‘beautifully’, in which he trimmed and kept them somewhat grubby, to retain a masculine look. He hated how his body had betrayed him.
Each day was literally hell, he knew he couldn’t wear it, not around his chest, he only wore it during school, he knew the dangers quite well, but each day was like a giant spear pricing through his body, wrong pronouns, and wrong name being called in roll call. Each day is a hell, each day this boy suffers… His parents don’t understand how can they? They believe that their ‘daughter’ is going through some phase. How can they ever accept that they have a son? They’ve always wanted a son; they always dismissed the idea of producing more. Each day the boy named ‘Clara’ suffered, each day they didn’t let their daughter become their son. Being transgender in this world… Was literal hell, people will crash into the boy’s life saying how it’s a sin, against their ‘laws’ of this big guy in the clouds…? How could it be a sin? The boy could never answer.
Each day was a battle, a battle to survive in a world full of haters, and a world where money is more important than the simple curing diseases, he battled the teachers, trying to call him his real name, his real identity, and his identity was his mind, not what was in his pants. Why can’t the world see that? The boy would always think.

“Mum, dad, please understand, I am a boy, I was stuck in the wrong body. You always had a son.” The boy spoke, which his mother, who wore clothes to slim her body out, her brunette bounced as she stood.
“How do you know, Clara?” Ha, wrong name dear mother of mine, the transgendered boy would think, he pushed a forced smile. “I always felt wrong, I always felt in the wrong body, I am not your daughter, I am your son, your… son, Jason… Not Clara, please mum, dad… Please understand…”
“Cl- Jason…” His father hesitated before continuing, “How do you know fully? How long has this been going on?”

“Ten whole years… I’m seventeen now…” Jason muttered.
Both of his parents looked to each other before smiling. “I guess we can give it a try.”