I’m an asshole

This is a pretty self-indulgent post, sorry. You people are hurting, and deserve something other than a selfish teen’s rant. Please stop reading if it’s wasting your time. It just helps to scream, sometimes. This really belongs in a journal, rather than a forum. Here goes.

I’m hurting others right now. My mother’s saddened, my grandmother’s angry, my aunt has lost respect for me. I’m dressing a certain way and it’s hurting them. My mom’s fighting an eating disorder and my guy clothes are bothering her – hell, I’m her only daughter, so that’s one more thing drifting away from her.

My grandma sat me down and told me that I was a selfish asshole. Asked me why I was dressing like a boy, why my brother announced that I secretly wanted to cut my hair off. She asked if I was gay. She asked if I was trying to steal attention from my depressed mother. Of course not, I said.

My grandma is passionate. And religious. Those two mixed together produce something quite opinionated. Don’t get me wrong – she’s a wonderful, nurturing person. She cares for others.

Tell me, honestly, please. Am I subconsciously trying to rebel against my hospitalized mother and my controlling grandmother. I don’t think I am. At least, I don’t want to. I love them both – my mother needs all the support she can get, and according to some people, I’m not helping. No matter the hugs, the visits, the thousand “I love you’s”, the legitimate concern for her – I’m still an asshole.

Should I just let it go? Just endure the girl clothes? As long as my mother feels supported, and her relatives accept me? The confidence I feel in men’s clothing is shot when my aunt says I look tacky, or my uncle mocks me.
I don’t want to lose these people. They helped me through depression. I’ve kept this boy thing a secret from a ton of people. Just recently I’m dressing openly.

I don’t want to lose these people. Sure, I feel claustrophobic around them, but they helped me through depression.

I’m at my dad’s and I don’t want to leave. He accepts me, at least.

Why the fuck couldn’t I have been born a boy. It would spare a ton of confusion and disappointment. Plus I wouldn’t feel like a freaky asshole.

Sorry. I’m really sorry. You are wonderful, albeit troubled people. I’ve just wasted your time (if anyone even read to this point).