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.