This is a terribly sad and tragic thing. My heart goes out to everyone who is lost in all this confusion….
“Are you a boy or a girl?” my mom whispers into the phone, afraid her roommate might hear her question.
“A girl,” I say.
“You ARE?” she asks, as if she can’t believe it, as if it’s deeply upsetting for her.
“Yes.”
“How long have you been a girl?”
“I’ve always been a girl, Mom.”
“I never knew all this time that you were a girl,” she says, a note of shock in her voice. “Does it bother you to be a girl?”
“No, Mom.”
“Does everyone else in the family know you’re a girl?”
“Yes.”
“No one ever told me.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“Do you look like a girl?” she asks.
“I guess so.”
“Do you have long hair?”
“No, I have short hair.”
“Do you dress like a girl?”
“Umm … yes.”
“Do you get your period and that kind of stuff?”
“Yes.”
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