Berta
I never wrote a diary. I thought that it's only for girls who cry for some boy or when they have no one to say that mother hadn't bought them the new dress. But now I understand that a diary is meant to say what makes you feel bad or good, especially when you can't talk to anyone about it aloud.
I don't know if anyone understands me or could understand me. Once, I told my mother how I feel. We prepared to visit some mother's friends. Mom ordered to wear a dress. Nothing new. She always told me to wear dresses on special occasions, but she didn't know how it was a distressing me, that every time when I had to wear a dress, I felt as if I were doing what I really didn't want to do. Then I cried a lot. I often cried when I was alone. Because I had a dream that I couldn't share with anyone. I wanted to be like my dad like Lucas. I wanted to be a boy. I secretly admired the parades of the soldiers, I enjoyed playing the cars and built the cities, played American Indians. I really didn't like the ribbons and the pink color, I almost didn't play with dolls and I never wanted to have a doll Barbie. I had only one friend girl named Olivia. I didn't get along with other girls. Somehow they didn't like me, maybe because I got better with the boys. Or maybe because I never gave in to their intrigues and dictation, "Don't be friends with him or with her" ... They often lied to me, and if they managed to deceive me, they always made fun of me. And they didn't know how to keep secrets. But Olivia was different. She was like me. Once, when one of those posers came up with something to make fun of me again, Olivia gave a trashing to that girl as well. I'm able to defend myself, but I was glad to have such a friend who defends me. If anyone had tried to offend Olivia or Lucas, I'd have acted exactly the same.
I talked to Olivia about everything like to Lucas. But ... I never dared to tell her about my dream. Like my parents. Especially mom. But on that day, before going to mother's friends, I could no longer remain silent. I firmly decided not wear any dress.
"What's up? Why do you stand in the middle of the room and sob? We'll be late!"
"What's up? Why do you stand in the middle of the room and sob? We'll be late!"
And then I told her I hate dresses and that I don't like to be a girl, that I want to be a boy and so on.
Mom's reaction was... How to say... She was scared or... Probably she was shocked.
Mom's reaction was... How to say... She was scared or... Probably she was shocked.
"What are you talking about, Berta? How such thoughts come into your head?"
"I don't feel like a girl, mom! I don't feel like a girl even when I wear the dresses!"
"Oh, God..."
"Oh, God..."
Then silence lasted for some time.
"And where did you get this nonsense? I hope you didn't tell it your dad."
"And where did you get this nonsense? I hope you didn't tell it your dad."
"I didn't say it, but it's not nonsense, mom... I'd like to be a boy... I think it would be better for me."
For a while my mother was silent. I think she had to think well enough to know what to say and to say so that I wouldn't mind her more.
"You are Berta Ross, my daughter. You're born a girl and you're a girl, Berta. We can't change our body simply because we want to be the other gender, Berta... Unfortunately... You will have to accept that you are a girl. "
For a while my mother was silent. I think she had to think well enough to know what to say and to say so that I wouldn't mind her more.
"You are Berta Ross, my daughter. You're born a girl and you're a girl, Berta. We can't change our body simply because we want to be the other gender, Berta... Unfortunately... You will have to accept that you are a girl. "
"But..."
"It'll pass, Berta. It's just the phase of your age."
"Mhm..."
"It'll pass, Berta. It's just the phase of your age."
"Mhm..."
It didn't help me. As always, I felt very lonely. And I was terribly sad. Like now.
And still... Everything was very simple and easy when I was a kid. Then I was more or less like a boy. And ... How good is that I have a dad. He doesn't know my secret, but he probably will understand me.
Dad and I were and we are the best friends. Mom never paid as much attention to me as a dad.
Dad and I were and we are the best friends. Mom never paid as much attention to me as a dad.
We did all together.
I love my dad because he taught me a lot of wonderful things like drawing, for never forgetting to ask me how I was doing at school and for having enroll me to a music school.
Music always makes me happy.
Music always makes me happy.
And Lucas... He was like a brother to me I've never had.
It's a shame that I don't know where he is now... Lucas and his family went to live in another city. I really want to meet him somewhere. I miss Lucas very much. I remember our last evening, which we spent together before he and his family moved out.
Yes, it was a good time... My childhood's over, but my "age phase" didn't get away... Everything just got worse.
I often stand in the bathroom in the morning in front of the mirror without dare to look at myself.
And every time when I look at my reflection I am covered with despair and displeasure.
What I see in it ... I always want to shout: "It's not me!" I don't want to have breasts and round hips. I probably will never want to give birth to children... Because I don't want to be what I was born of.
But I always remember what my mother said to me ... I will have to live all my life in this body.
And even if I feel like a boy, everyone will still accept me as a girl...
That I wouldn't go crazy I drown my sadness in the gym. I like to feel strong. In addition, it helps me forget.
And cast off my anger and resentment.
One guy was astonished when he saw how I hit "the pear".
"Wow, girl! Such a small body and so much power!"
"I'm not a girl..." I muttered silently. "You don't know who I am", I told him angrily in my thoughts.
No one knows. And I'm afraid that they will never know who I am really. Sometimes I want to die...
And I know that tears will not help me, but... This is just a sadness that will probably never end.
The only thing comforts me that tomorrow I will go to college of music and art. Perhaps a new environment will help me forget and accept that I will have to live in this body throughout my life. Hope is a fool's mother, but it's better than nothing.