Growing Up Different

This is a story of growing up different of growing up wrong. you are a young child playing in the park and a stranger asks your mother if that's her little girl and she frowns and says  no, my son but inside you are secretly elated. this is a story of growing up wrong of never using public restrooms because you feel too uncomfortable so you hold it in until you get home. this is a story of a young boy crying herself to sleep every night for years and never knowing why. this is a story of being laughed at at school and being beaten up on your way home and hiding the bruises so nobody else would know. of being paraded in front of others as an example of what not to do of how not to be of a freak. And maybe you are. You don't know. All you know is that you don't know what's going on and that when nobody's home the sink flows with red and that in the morning, your pillow smells of salt. this is a story of misused razor blades and attempted suicide a story of growing up wrong. This is my story. But it is also a story of self-discovery and of being accepted and learning how to roll with the punches instead of being bruised by them.

This is a story of fixing your body and getting the poison out of your bloodstream until there's almost no testosterone left and not hating yourself for the first time in years.

This is a story of growing up different of bravery and courage and finally being who you've always been and still being held up as an example of what not to do but not giving a damn because you know what they don't.

This is a story of growing up different of growing up right.