
After Mom and Dad divorced, Mom developed a gender identity disorder. She raised me, her daughter, as a boy. She took me to the men’s restroom, where I had to use the urinals. She made me live in the boys’ dorms, exposed to my male classmates. I was young then, and no one really noticed anything unusual. Until I turned fifteen, and my body started to change. My classmates’ gazes grew strange. “Is that a freak? So disgusting!” “Neither male nor female, always flaunting herself around men!” Feeling wronged, I went home and cried to Mom. I thought, finally, she would see me as a girl. But she just smiled at me. “Don’t worry, I’ve booked you for a mastectomy.” “As a boy, you don’t need to develop these inappropriate things.” … I stared at her, my voice trembling. “Mom… what surgery did you say?” In my hand, I clutched the perfect score math test I’d just received, disbelief warring with a rising sense of dread. Mom turned from the counter, still holding a kitchen knife, and smiled serenely. “A mastectomy.” Her tone was unnervingly calm, as if discussing what we’d have for dinner. Like, ‘Tonight, we’re having sweet and sour ribs.’ I looked at her kind, loving face, and a sliver of genuine terror pierced my heart. “Couldn’t… couldn’t we skip the surgery?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The words were barely out before Mom’s expression twisted. She slammed the knife onto the counter, ripped off her apron, and strode towards me. “Alex, look at you! What do you look like?” Her finger jabbed hard into my barely developing chest. “Is this something a boy should have? This is all because you keep eating those junk foods! The hormones are turning you into… this!” I wanted to say it wasn’t the food, it was because I was a girl. But the words churned in my throat, unspoken, swallowed back down. When I was five, I’d said I was a girl, and Mom had thrown away all my dolls. I cried, picking them out of the trash, only for her to shred them with scissors. “Boys don’t play with dolls! How disgusting! Can’t you be more masculine?” From then on, I knew. Only by pretending to be a boy could I earn my mother’s love. Perhaps seeing my silence, Mom suddenly sighed. Her voice softened, and she called me, “Sweetheart, are you scared of the surgery because it might hurt?” I nodded vigorously, tears streaming down my face despite myself. It had been so long since she’d called me “sweetheart.” She gently stroked my face, then continued, “How about this, sweetheart? We won’t do the surgery for now, okay? Mom will take you for hormone treatments instead. Maybe that will help.” “Really?” I snapped my head up, my voice trembling with a fragile hope. “Really.” Mom smiled warmly. A flicker of expectation sparked within me. Maybe if we delayed it long enough, Mom would just forget. As she spoke, Mom retrieved a warmed cup of milk and held it out to me. I suddenly remembered when I was sick as a child, how Mom would stay up all night by my side. Back then, she’d also make me milk and sing soft lullabies to help me sleep. Maybe Mom did love me, and it was only Dad’s rejection of me as a girl that made her ill, making her see me as a boy. Thinking this, with only me by her side, I felt I should be even more understanding of Mom. I obediently took the milk and drank it all. Under the warm glow of the light, Mom’s smile seemed almost blinding. “Good boy, Mom’s little man.” I blinked, trying to etch her tender expression into my memory. But in the next second, my vision blurred, and a sudden, intense dizziness washed over me. “Mom… please…” Before I could finish, my consciousness plunged into darkness. When I awoke again, it was to the harsh glare of blinding white fluorescent lights. I felt as though I was already on an operating table. I instinctively tried to struggle, but found I couldn’t move. Looking down, my wrists and ankles were strapped to the table! An indescribable terror instantly enveloped me. Through the haze, I saw Mom’s back and immediately cried out for help! “Mom, save me!” Mom noticed I was awake. She turned, a bright smile on her lips. “Sweetheart, you’re awake?” She reached out and stroked my hair. “Don’t be scared, it’s just a small procedure.” “But you promised me we wouldn’t do the surgery yet… You lied…” I sobbed, struggling for breath. Mom looked at my tear-streaked face, and tears welled in her own eyes, but she didn’t stop anything. “Don’t blame Mom, Mom is doing this for your own good.” “Look, how can a boy have these things? It’s a deformity. Mom has to help you correct it. Once it’s gone, you can be a real boy, and Dad will love you.” As the doctor burst through the door, scalpel in hand, approaching me, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed through my tears: “Mom, I’m a girl! Look at me!” I hoped Mom would hear my voice, snap out of her delusion, and save me. But she just shook her head, confused, stepping back, one step at a time. “Alex, what are you saying? You’re clearly a boy.” “You’re your father’s favorite son, your grandmother’s favorite grandchild.” “You’re meant to carry on the family name, continue the lineage. You are the pride of our family.” I desperately reached out to Mom, begging her to take my hand, to pull me from the cold operating room. “Mom, I can pretend to be a boy, I can pretend my whole life, please don’t…” But as the anesthetic was pushed, a wave of dizziness suddenly hit, quickly dragging me into darkness. I don’t know how long I slept. When I woke again, the first thing I felt was a sharp, intense pain. I looked down at my chest, wrapped in white bandages, flat as if nothing had ever been there. In that moment, my mind was utterly blank. I didn’t know exactly what I had lost, only a vague, sinking feeling that something was irrevocably gone. The door to the room gently pushed open, and Mom walked in, a radiant smile on her face. “Awake? Mom made you some chicken soup to help you recover.” “Alex, from now on, you’re a proper boy.” Looking at her satisfied smile, I wanted to smile too, but my face felt frozen. She spooned chicken soup to my lips, and I mechanically opened my mouth, obediently drinking it. The soup was fragrant, but my mouth tasted bitter. I couldn’t taste anything. Mom continued to chatter, saying that once my wounds healed, she’d take me to play basketball and go swimming. I listened numbly, when suddenly, a heavy, dragging pain shot through my lower abdomen. Pushing Mom away, I jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. It wasn’t until I saw the crimson stain on my pants that a jolt went through my mind, and my hands started to tremble. How absurd. I’d just had a female organ removed, just accepted I was to be a boy. But the proof of my femininity had reappeared. What was I supposed to do? Was I a boy, or a girl? “Alex? Are you alright?” Mom’s voice came from the door, like a death knell. “I’m… I’m fine.” I quickly calmed myself. If Mom knew I had my period, she’d force me to have another surgery! “I just have a stomach ache, I’ll be fine soon!” I secretly discarded the blood-stained clothes, pretending nothing had happened. Then, I pulled out the allowance I’d saved for a long time and went to the convenience store. “Um… could I get a pack of sanitary pads, please?” I mumbled. The owner, head down, looking at her phone, casually handed me a pack. Like a thief, I slipped back into the restroom, intending to follow the instructions. But when I opened the package, I saw it read: ultra-thin pantyliners, daily use. This didn’t seem… quite like the ads on TV. But I didn’t have any more allowance, so this would have to do, right? I tried to stick two pantyliners side-by-side, but they ended up crooked and uneven. Walking along, I was on edge, terrified someone would notice something amiss. As if tempting fate, my first class back at school was gym. I gritted my teeth, jogging slowly with the group, but I gradually felt the heavy ache in my lower abdomen growing more intense. “Hey, look at Alex!” A girl shrieked behind me, pointing at my pants. “Isn’t he a boy? How can he have a period?” “What boy? He’s just some gender-bender freak, you haven’t seen his… down there…” “So disgusting, how can someone like that be in this school?” My face burned scarlet. I wanted to retort, but no sound came out. I knew that when I enrolled, Mom had registered my gender as “male.” I had no way to argue. The damp pants clung to me, and the whispers of my classmates grew louder and louder. I felt the stares from all directions, like countless slaps across my face. The moment the bell rang, I immediately clutched my legs together and rushed into the boys’ restroom. Thankfully, I had brought extra pantyliners. I should have enough time to change before class. But just as I closed the stall door, it was kicked open from the outside! “Well, well, well, look who it is? Isn’t it our school’s big celebrity?” It was Roy, the school bully. He usually loved picking on people, and now he was watching me with keen interest. I instinctively covered my pants. He saw my movement, and his eyes suddenly lit up. “What are you hiding? Let us see, buddy!” “Let me out!” I tried to escape, but he shoved me back. “What’s the rush?” Roy said, stepping closer with a triumphant smirk. “Tell us, are you a boy or a girl? Give everyone a show!” “No!” I clung to my pants with all my might, but Roy was incredibly strong! With a tearing sound, my pants ripped straight open! Just then, I heard a woman’s shrill voice from outside the restroom. “What? You’re saying a pervert sneaked into the boys’ restroom?” “Hmph, I’m going to take pictures with my phone right now and teach him a lesson!” My heart seized. If I was photographed and labeled a pervert, my life would be over! I used every last ounce of strength, shoved Roy aside, and, clutching my pants, burst out! But it was already too late. The moment I rushed out of the boys’ restroom, I was blocked head-on by the person at the door! The cleaning lady’s phone was pointed right at my face! The flash went off, and my mind went blank. I even forgot to raise my hands to cover my face…
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