I am Nobody
Hi, my name is Alex. Because I smile doesn’t mean I am
happy. My heart is tearing apart. I feel so trapped. I
feel so alone. Nobody knows me for who I am. I am Nobody.
I can’t cry any more tears. I can’t be brave anymore. I
can’t be the person that everyone expects me to be. I feel
like a zombie, while my brain is screaming and in despair.
I have agreed with Dauphin to tell my story and how I
ended up here, ready to give the ultimate sign that I no
longer am me. I am nobody. Don’t blame Mr. Dauphin for
writing my story. There are others like me. They have no
hope and that is the worst thing a person cannot have. No
hope. I am nobody, yet I can be your son, your nephew,
your neighbour.
What is behind a boys smile?
I am 11 years old. I live with my father, who is a
teacher at the local school. He loves children,
well-behaved children that are polite and wants to learn.
He is what many would call a conservative father. He
doesn’t mind giving us a slap if we are out of line. My
Mum is a housemother. She takes great pride in being a
mother of two and having such a tidy house. She likes the
neighbours to know that we are a happy family that do not
have problems like other families have. She has two
children that do well at school and help around the home.
If our neighbours didn’t know how happy we were as a
family, Mum would boast until they knew. Then I had a
little sister. She was only two years younger than me, but
she was just as tall as I was. Many thought that we were
twins. I loved my sister, but at times she did talk too
much.
When my sister was born, I was jealous. She always had the
clothes that looked the best. She was allowed to wear pink
clothes and have flowered panties. From an early age, I
realised that I thought boys clothing was so boring. Boy’s
hair was boring. In fact, I fought my mother every time my
hair had to be cut. In time she accepted that I had long
hair. I must admit that I never thought about sneaking
into my sister’s room and trying on my sister's clothes. I
kept my big secret, thinking I would be considered sick or
something like that if I told someone.
I cried for help once. In my baby’s book, Mum wrote “4
years old... Alex told everyone at the Christmas meal that
he wished he was a girl. He has such humour, that it’s
hard not laugh at” If only mum knew that I was serious!
It wasn’t that my parents hated me. It was they never knew
what thoughts I had or how unhappy I was that God created
me a boy. They gave me lots of toys and clothes. The
problem was that they were for boys. I liked playing with
my sister's toys and dreaming of wearing her clothes.
My world changed when I was 11. Due to a simple incident,
I was forced to confront my trapped body. I was taking a
bath. Mum was in a panic that we were late. She was
finding our school uniforms while reminding me to wash
behind my ears.
“Alex, we have a problem.” She said, “I am behind in
washing the clothes. You have no underwear left. I have
considered what we can do and the only answer I have is
that you wear one of your sister’s panties”
I couldn’t believe my ears. This was a dream come true.
Still, I played the martyr and said that I would wear them
for one day. I rushed out of the bathtub and went into my
room. There sitting on my uniform was my sister's panties.
They were white on the sides and pink in the front and
back. There was a cute little bow in the front of them. I
felt them through my fingers. They were so soft. I put
them on, as my heart was pumping quicker and quicker. I
looked down. Despite the fact that you could see a bulge
in my panties, you could not see if I was a boy. I put the
uniform on and one again my secret was hidden. I was more
of a girl on the inside, but nobody could see.
School went great. I was happier than I usually was. It
amazing that a simple pair of panties could change how I
felt about myself. I was now sure that there was the
spirit of a girl trapped inside me, wanting to get out. I
would have to subdue this girl inside me and hide her. I
was wise enough to know that society would never
understand. But all these negative thoughts were gone the
day I wore panties. I was allowing the girl inside of me a
chance to express herself, and the best is that only I
knew. I was in heaven.
The thing was that this was only for one day. I went back
to my boy's clothes after. This made me smile and think of
the day I wore panties, while a tear went down my cheeks
that it was only one day. I had to do something otherwise
I would go crazy. I had to let the girl inside of me
appear more often.
The opportunity happened once when my sister and mum went
out shopping. Dad was watching sports on TV. I rushed into
my sister’s room and got naked. Then I put on one of her
most girly panties. It felt so good. Then I took one of
her dresses. It was a blue dress. I had frilly sleeves and
at the bottom. Does anyone know how to put a dress on? I
decided to step in it and pull it up and after shortly
wrestling with the dress, I had it on. It was a nice dress
that fit me like a glove. I looked in the mirror and did
my hair in a ponytail. Then I looked back in the mirror.
My heart was once again beating quicker. I was so excited.
I was surprised at what I saw in the mirror. I looked
exactly like a girl. I looked like my sister. I turned on
Lady Gaga and started dancing to her music. I was in
heaven that afternoon. I just danced and danced. I liked
when the dress rose while I twirled around. It was just
like that Marilyn Monroe picture. I read my sister's girl
magazines and played with her teddy bears. This was the
second time in my life that I felt happy. It was like I
suddenly became my sister, and could play in her room all
day. Of course, the fun had to end and I hurried to clean
up what mess I made and put my boy’s clothes on again.
This was the highlight of my life for a few weeks. I would
go into my sister’s room while my family were out and
would have some girl time. I would try different clothes
on and play with her toys. The only problem was that I had
to watch the window and be careful that no evidence could
be seen before they came back.
It was also at this time that I accepted that I was a
girl. Sure I had a boy’s body, but that was a birth
defect. I decided that if anyone called me a boy, I would
get mad or ignore them. I was deciding if I would tell
them that I am a girl. After long consideration, I decided
that I wouldn’t have the guts to tell anyone that I was a
girl. I would just have to keep this fact to myself. I
knew that it would be a lonely feeling, and I would really
love for my parents and friends to understand me, but I
couldn’t. I was afraid people would think I was mental or
a fool.
After a few weeks of sneaking into my sister’s room, it
wasn’t enough. I was a girl and I should have been a girl
all the time. My next plan was that I would sneak into my
sisters and loan some of her panties and tights. Then I
would put them under my boy’s clothes. I also put my long
hair in a ponytail, something that my Dad didn’t like. He
thought that it made me look like a sissy and gay. Imagine
what he would do if I told him I was his daughter, not his
son.
Just knowing that I had panties and tights under me was
enough for me to feel like a girl. The others didn’t know
because I had my school uniform over it. I thought that
this was the perfect compromise
One day, I put my tights and panties on. Well, they were
my sisters as I said. I had my school uniform over it. I
looked in the mirror and joked to myself that I looked
like a Tomboy. I was in a great mood; this was however
destroyed when I was on the bus home.
It is hard to if I was happy at school or not. The problem
is when I got teased. I was used to being teased every
day, but I always started crying when I was teased. No
matter how much I tried not to, I cried. I think this made
some bullies tease me when they otherwise would leave me
alone. The goal for them was to make me cry.
I was on my way home on the bus. One boy said that I
should cut my hair because it was only girls that had
their hair down to their shoulders in a ponytail. I felt a
short happiness inside me as this boy was saying that I
was a girl. But he kept on teasing me that I had long hair
and looked like a sissy. I started crying as I usually do.
I tried to move up to the front of the bus, but he hung on
to my trousers and pulled me back. I don’t know how it
happened but my trousers fell a bit. Everyone could see
that I was wearing tights, and not only that but I was
also wearing panties. The whole bus was in silence.
Everyone stared. The big bully started calling me names.
Lucky it was my turn to get out. I rushed home and his in
my room.
The next day, I had a problem. The wise thing would be to
wear my boy briefs and try to pretend yesterday didn’t
happen. But that made me just mad. I knew I was a girl in
a body with a defect. Why should I wear clothes that
others want me to wear? I should wear the clothes that
reflected who I was… a girl. Others had to respect this
and let me be who I want.
One thing is a theory of human rights, another thing is
reality! As soon as I entered school people began to
whisper to each other and others called me a sissy and
gay. I tried walking by with my head high, but I knew that
I was about to cry. Lucky for me there was class. I
noticed that everyone was saying good morning to everyone,
but nobody was saying anything to me. I felt so alone at
that moment. Friends that I had yesterday were suddenly
ignoring me.
At Lunchtime, I hid in the corner. Three or four boys came
over to me.
They asked if I was wearing panties. I said yes.
Then they started asking me if I was a sissy. I said no
Was I a girl? I said yes
A girl with a dick! How funny is that? Was I gay? I didn’t
answer.
This was enough for the boys. I was tried and judged and
convicted. All I could see afterwards were fists flying
towards me. I started crying because of the pain.
They hit my face. They hit my stomach. They hit my
privates. I fell down on the floor. The boys just hovered
over me and started hitting again. I wasn’t crying
anymore. The pain was all over my body. After you get
punched a few hundred times, you really do not feel the
pain of extra punches. Your body is so much in pain
anyhow. I tried to hold my body as much as possible,
trying to make myself smaller. It didn’t help. The punches
still hit me. After a while, the boys stopped hitting me
and left me there. I had my eyes half open and noticed
that everyone just walked by. Nobody helped me, not even
my friends.
One of the teachers by me, and helped me up. He said that
he saw what happened and it’s time that I see the
headmaster in school. I thought of why he didn’t help if
he saw it. I was taken to the headmaster’s office. He
asked me the same questions that the boys asked me. Was I
wearing panties? Why was I wearing them? Did I like being
called girl or sissy? Why on earth would I think that I am
a girl?
Mum was called in. She was quite upset and embarrassed.
She didn’t even ask how I was. On the way home from
school, she didn’t say a word. When we came home she told
me to take a bath to get all the blood off of me. Then she
told me to get my boys clothes on and stay in my room. I
can see that she was very mad and disappointed with me. I
just wanted the chance to explain how I felt, but every
time I tried to open my mouth, she ignored me.
Dad came home and for a long time, I could hear silence.
Then they started to argue. I could hear them blame each
other and say that I was not normal. At one stage my dad
was talking about a military school. He did not want a gay
son. I could feel tears once again. I didn’t want my
parents to fight about me. I just wanted them to
understand me. This went on for a few days. I was allowed
to stay home from school. My parents thought that I would
only be beaten up again if I went to school.
A few days later, Mum and I went to a special doctor. He
was actually a shrink. My self-esteem was at its lowest
when I found out that it was a shrink. Now my parents
thought that I was crazy.
“I see that you wore girl panties to school as well as
tights,” he asked
“I did for a few weeks, and then I was caught”
“Don’t you think it’s strange for a boy to wear girl
panties?”
“I suppose. But I feel more like myself when I wear them”
“What about other girl clothes, do you feel better with
them on?”
“Yes.”
“This is very hard for me to understand. Why would a
normal boy like wearing girl’s clothes?”
“Err, because, because I am a girl.”
“Now this is very interesting. How can you be a girl when
you have boy’s private parts?”
“You mean my dick? That is a birth defect. God made a
mistake. I am a girl”
After many questions, he told me to wait outside. My
mother was called in and spoke to him for a while. When
she came out, she gave me a hug. It was time to go home.
The fighting didn’t stop at home. Indeed it got worse. Dad
was shouting that I was not a girl and I needed a strong
hand to get these crazy ideas out of my head. He stormed
out of the house. Mum was crying. I went to give her a
hug, but she just pushed me aside saying that I was
starting at military school.
The next day, Mum took me downtown. I was in despair when
she took me to the barbershop. The barber was told to give
me a very short haircut. I cried no and struggled in the
chair. It is only when Mum started crying that I was
quiet. Now it was my turn to cry. Every cut of the
scissors felt like the punches that the boys gave me.
At home, my nails were cut short and I was told by Mum to
drop any talk about being a girl. My suitcase was packed
and I was sent to the military school.
Discipline, fitness, being a strong-minded and fair man
was what the military school was all about. I listened to
what the shrink said and Mum and dad said. I was no girl.
I quickly met some friends at the military school and
never mentioned what happened at my last school.
At the beginning, it went fine. I had many new friends and
was doing fine in my studies. When my mother and Dad
visited, they were proud of me. No one mentioned that I
considered myself a girl. We talked about the boy’s
activities and how handsome I was in the uniform.
One day we were doing arts. I started painting rainbows
and flowers. A friend of mine looked at my painting and
said it was just like a girl had done it. I closed my eyes
and said to myself that I was a girl. The old feelings
came back to me.
Over the next few days, I became once again convinced that
I was a girl. From experience, I have learnt not to tell a
soul. Every time I put the uniform on, it felt like
thorns. Every time I was doing exercises, I would think
they were boring. I closed my eyes and pretended that I
was playing with Barbie’s. Even with a drawing, I was
drawing rainbows and puppies and hearts. You get the idea.
I now considered myself a girl and this would lead to
problems.
Why am I standing on the edge of the roof? You see, I
managed to do something that is bad. I managed to make
everyone happy while I was unhappy. Dad and Mum considered
my thinking that I am a girl as a phase. They tried
knocking it out of me by cutting my hair and sending me to
a military school. I tried doing it their way and subdue
any thought that I considered myself a girl. Why did they
not understand what was going on in my heart and mind? I
may have the body of a boy, but I feel like a girl. I know
I am a girl. Why society is so narrow-minded in thinking
that God could make mistakes. Why were my parents more
concerned about what is normal than how I felt.
If I can’t be a girl, then I am nobody. This jump will be
a jump to Freedom.