By

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My dead name means liberty in Greek but I don't think I'm free at all. You can call me Christopher or Chris, either will do, thanks. I'm a teenage trans boy and am panromantic asexual.

I guess it all started it out when I was a kid, young and naive. Usually, if you take a peep from a toodler girl's room ( even my lil sister's ) you will find it painted in some shade of pink or purple, decorated with dolls, countless glitter and beautiful princess stuff.

Well not for me. Since I was a toodler I lived in a paradise room painted in blue and yellow ( my preferecions ) and I'd rather play with my cousin's car toys than pretend to have a tea party. In fact, I never owned a doll, only stuffed animals and I hated skirts and dresses. Once my mom tried to fit me in one, I literally ruined it by cutting it.

Growing up was just the same. I found that I wouldn't fit in the girls crowd. My best friend was a boy ( for a some period of time I had even asked him to call me a he and surprisingly he did ), I refused to wear girly stuff ( jeans had always been my favorite ) and by the third grade I was officialy the tomboy of the class.

But it wasn't just this. In fourth grade girls started about puberty, how my breasts would start growing, how I will start my period and what a beautiful girl I'd become. I grossed me out though, I didn't want to become any of this. The time had come when adults would start telling me not to sit up with my legs open because it's not girl like and that I should wear dresses when I went to church. I refused to do any of it. In the contrary, I started hanging out with boys even more and realized that I wasn't attracted by them the way all the girls in my school were.They were my bros.

It was high time then I started writing books and I was introduced to Wattpad. People would ask me all the time why I only wrote in male POV and I answered that I found myself connecting better in male than female characters.

In the 7th grade I threw away all the make up my mom had given me ( but I never used anyway ) and started wearing baggy clothes because my chest made me feel dysphoric. I wanted my posture to be more masculine like, I hated the way my hips swayed. For two years back then I labeled myself as lesbian as I wasn't attracted by boys at all but secretly called myself in male pronouns.

My search on the web had started.

"How to act like a boy"

"How to be more masculine"

"How to hide feminine curves"

And the list went on. I felt more dysphoric than ever and was diagnosed with depression. I started binding ( not safely ). It hurt, but I felt good.

Then I went through the denial phase. I knew I was transgender but I didn't want to accept it. I let my hair grow longer than ever. Started putting on mascara rarely and even dressed a bit feminine. I even dated a guy, it felt wrong. It was like a dated my brother.

I gave up on a three times month. The dysphoria was way too much. Then I deicded it was time to be me. Genderfluid for some people but transgender in the closet actually. The male pronouns tasted sweeter than any kind of chocolate.

I started dressing as masculine as I could ( even though my mom only let me buy girl clothes ), binding and come out to someone. He accepted and I started falling for him. It was the first time I loved a male being without feeling weird but that;s another story.

A year passed on. I come out to my parents, they denied me, both being transgender and pansexual ( i'm actually a panromantic asexual but too tired of their denial to tell them ) and they started checking on me.

They said it was all bullshit from internet and didn't let me go online for like five months. And they didn't stop there. What they did is a huge list which will go on and on for days and only make me feel dysphoric.

One day I decided, It was just weeks ago. I skipped school and got a maschuline short haircut ( even though they had prohibited from me ) and bought deodorant. I got granted again but it doesn't matter now anyway as I am way more comfortable with myself. I even came out to my best friend and two more people, they accepted.

Things haven't been all rosy and happy lately. Binding, being dysphoric, parents calling me the wrong pronouns on purpose.

But with no mourners there would be no funeral. And I needed to let that girl die on me to be the guy I am now. There are still some people ( which i can count on my fingers ) who respect my choises and that keeps me going on.

Things will not get better this year, but maybe next year will.