djcliche (djcliche) wrote,


By the time i was six or seven, i learned to at least to pretend to accept the fact that i was going to have to be a girl. But i was still convinced that my parents were wrong, and that i would grow a penis someday.
The summer i turned 8, something else grew there instead, my first pubic hair and then like magic, my boobs began to sprout.
But by magic, i mean dark evil magic. I was convinced that God was trying to punish me for being such a BAD BAD GIRL. and i really was a BAD girl. I ask my male friends, how good of a girl could YOU have been?

But now i was being punished. Everyone always told me what a bad bad girl i was, and now i was being punished by having to be a woman when i was never a girl.. or a boy, i was a body with a soul inside it, and clearly my soul was bad.

When third grade began, i was reminded daily of how bad of a girl i was. My teacher that year was a sociopath with tenyear. Every year, she would look for the most vulnerable kid in the classroom, and when she found them, she treated them so badly, that at least 4 of us that i am now aware of, have been in patient in psychiatric hospitals. And it is no coincidence that we all had her for 3rd grade. None of us were the same age, because she would only torture 1 student a year, making it so that it could never be more than our "crazy" word against her professional one. Even with my parents.
I told them my teacher was humiliating me every day, and calling me stupid and bad and unworthy. She even called me homely. She would tell the other kids how stupid i am, and she let them laugh at me. In fact, she loved it when the classroom would laugh at me.

I did well enough on my tests and homework that she could not have failed me in most subjects without my parents knowing she was a liar. But i recieved an F+ in handwriting, because i did not write as neatly as the other girls. Boys with handwriting 10x worse than mine recieved better grades. Only one other girl had handwriting as messy as mine, and hers was the worst i've still ever seen, but she got a C- because she was a lefty. I also got poor effort and conduct marks, but i tried hard and i behaved well.
I told my parents that the grades she had given me were unfair. I told them how mean she was. How she would dump my messy desk out in front of the class and make me clean it while they all went out for recess, and how when i was reading out loud and i started to stutter, she made fun of my stutter and said "let's have someone read who actually knows how." "You are wasting my valuable time." "you are a bad girl" "You will never succeed" "Nice turtle neck. i can see your training bra through it".
I cried every morning and begged them not to send me to school, but i had to go.
When my mother found a packed suitcase under my bed, she asked me why it was there. I lied to her, but she found out from my sister that i was planning to run away. We had a huge fight. It turned physical and the next day she told me "Fine, i will talk to your teacher. Dad and i will make a meeting to find out what is going on at school that is so terrible that you want to run away from home."

So, she and my father made an appointment to speak with my teacher.
They came home from the appointment telling me that my teacher really really liked me, and that she just felt i needed to make more of an effort. She said i was always looking out the window and never paying attention. She said she only dumped my desk once, and it was an accident, but that after she saw what a mess it was, she thought it was more important that i clean it than go out to play that day. She said i must have an active imagination to think she was calling me stupid or ugly, and she only mentioned my bra showing cuz she thought i might want to put on a sweater so no one would make fun of me.
She told me my bra was showing in front of the class, from the front of the class. She lied to my parents about everything, and my parents told me that they were disappointed in me for lying to them or exaggerating, because clearly this was a nice woman who really cared about me. This woman would never do the things i told them she did. I was wrong. I was a liar, and i was no longer allowed to come home in tears telling lies about my teacher. If i did, i was told to go to my room and deal with it.
I was still a BAD girl as far as anyone was concerned and i was punished many times throughout the year by my parents for what had happened to me at school. Because my version was a lie.
But it wasn't a lie. And no one believed me, and i was growing boobs and hair on my thing where my penis was supposed to grow and WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO? How do i handle my life?

I kept the suitcase in my closet under a pile of clothes or stuffed animals. My mother would find it every now and then and each time, she would go crazy on me for it. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR BRAIN? people would ask me all the time...

what is wrong with my brain? what is wrong with my body???
nothing was right. it was all wrong, and no one could see it but me.

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