Not Her

CHAPTER 1

Love.

Four letters made the whole world crazy. Do they stand for anything that is actually that valuable and that meaningful and extraordinary? Is love eternal or only a temporary attraction between two people? Does it happen once in life? Or some people are lucky to love twice? How can a person know if he is indeed in love? I feel qualified to answer these questions since I have experienced it.

Let me take you back to your childhood. When we use to get visits from cousins and friends and get so excited and happy. We bring out all of our toys and give it to them with no hesitation. Except for that one doll or board game or a teddy bear that was out of the question.

There was always that one item that was so valuable to us; we refused to share it with anyone. 'You can play with whatever you want, but don't you touch that train... My dad just brought it to me...,' I once said to my cousin.

We grew up and that doll became our phone, our favorite dress or tee-shirt. Maybe our car, our apartment, our personal time and energy, or even our dreams, our secret and comfort. It's different from a person to another what is most valuable in their lives.

I knew I fell in love when I found myself ready to share that precious "thing" with the person I love or even giving it to them completely with no second thoughts. No matter how important it is to me, it meant nothing compared to him.

This is how a mother loves her kids, the same way that a man shows love to his job or his wife. It's about one word, that became so underrated by time, but it would never lose its true profound meaning, and that it: sacrifice.

Unconditional love requires some sacrifices.

Instead of getting deeper into this, I have chosen to tell my story so it won't feel like I'm teaching how to fall in love. Because that would wrong.

I'm Laura, I'm seventeen. I live with my parents and my younger brother Jason in one of the hottest cities in the country. And by hot I mean the temperature is high because my town is boring on too many levels. I'll explain why later.

The first thing to know about me is that I'm a soccer freak. I have been playing it since elementary school, which helped me stay in a great fit. I have got a skinny healthy body, can't complain. BUT: I could use some curves and two boobs. Because I barely look like a girl.

Unlike most of the twenty-first-century teenagers, I have no social media or any social interactions for that matter. I don't really get the point of social media. I see it as a tool made by smarter people to make us, the users, stupid. And, that's working pretty well; people now are so busy posting their lives on Facebook and Instagram they forgot to actually live it and experience real stuff. With it come the fake emotions, fake friends; the fake relationships and fake love. #Army.

When I realized it I decided to start spending my days doing something enjoyable; like exercising, reading, listening to old school rock. Or just laying around and watching movies. I don't get out of the house very often. Except for school and soccer practice.

As you can tell: I'm a bit of a loner. Or as my parents like to call me: an antisocial, an introvert. I wish that was my only "struggle". I also have this little thing bothering me since I was a kid.

I'm totally not accepting something about me; I hate it and I refuse it, and that is the fact that I have a female body. Let me get this straight: I'm not ranting about the common shitty struggles, like 'I hate to get my period', 'I hate to go shopping for bras','Nothing fits me ...'

That's definitely not it. I wish it was. That would be temporary and completely normal. But I Actually; I hate that I was born a girl in the first place. I'm a boy. And I don't see myself as a female at all.

It's like I'm trapped inside this girl's body and I can't get along with it. I'm afraid I'm not able to hide it anymore; my "condition" is really complicated and really simple at the same time.

I'm a transgender but I can't come out to anyone about it. I just need some courage to do it. In fact, I'm planning to tell my parents on my eighteenth birthday, even though it would be pretty late then but at least I'll be legally responsible for myself if they refuse to help me.

It all started when I was eight, my teacher assigned me the main male role for a big play. 'You're the best actor in the class, so you are going to play Peter Pan. The other boys are not good enough,' she said. I liked that because I used to love Peter Pan and love dressing up like guys.

I memorized my two lines in one day. I practiced them every single minute; at school, at home, on the dinner table, even on the way to school. When the big day came I gave that role all I had. It turned terrific.

The moment I wore those green clothes and got up on that stage, I felt that I belonged to me, or more like I was me. I am what I'm supposed to be. (It doesn't make any sense does it?)

It's the strongest, weirdest and most fascinating feeling I've ever had. I tried to convince myself later that it was nothing: I'm a girl and I should be hiding this feeling of being someone else. After seven years; I think I did an awful job at that. I grew up to be the biggest "tomboy" in the town.

At one point in my life, I started questioning my sexuality. I saw a big majority of the "tomboys" getting into gay relationships. So I thought maybe I like girls, which is really confusing to me now. After a couple of years of self-discovery and one or two relationships, my doubt faded away. I came with the obvious conclusion that not all tomboys are lesbians and not all lesbians are tomboys. And most importantly I am neither one.