I will never forget The Day.  The Day was when I realized beyond a doubt what my gender was.

The Day happened in early September 9, 2015.  I was neck deep in the middle of asking God if I was really a girl and what I was supposed to do with all my questions and research.  Growing up, everyone told me that being transgender was an evil, perverted thing, but no one told me what dysphoria was.  I had too many questions left unanswered.  I felt lost and confused.

That day, I was running my weekly paper route and someone mistakingly (or so they thought) announced upon my entrance, “The paper boy is here!”

I’m not even sure if I heard it right or if they were making or a joke, or anything else.

All I knew was that after that I could not stop smiling and laughing.  If you know me, you know I am not someone who is very open or vocal about positive emotions, and tend to be more reserved.  But that day, the one who had a difficult time expressing emotions was giggling uncontrollably.  Mom, bewildered by my behavior, asked me,

“What’s going on with you today?”

How could I tell her the truth?

How could I tell anyone about the joy I felt inside?  The feeling of being alive after spending my whole existence being a zombie.  The breath of fresh air after standing on my tiptoes with a tight noose around my neck.

After my months of soul searching and praying to God, he had finally allowed a break in the clouds.  It was The Day I found my first clarity, and took my first step in my journey to being who God meant me to be.

I did not tell anyone, but inside a voice cried out for the first time,

I am a boy.  Welcome to the world, young man.


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