Alex is a transgender (female to male) young person who is holding the most important letter of his life. The letter represents the possibility of his whole life changing. Growing up as a little girl he knew at a very young age that he was different. No because he actually knew or could put it into words but because his family would tell him that he should be wearing girl clothes, doing girl things, liking what girls liked but that wasn’t what he wanted to do or who he wanted to be. After many years of abuse at home and bullying a school he decided that it was time for him to be who he actually believed was the reflection staring back at him in the mirror- Alex. He wanted to transition from being a girl to a boy, but he knew in order to do that he had to go through a gate keeper. These are the doctors that decide if a person is psychologically fit to make this life change. The process of denial or approval is timely, and twelve times Alex has been told, “No.” But today as he holds this letter he feels like this might be the one, lucky number “13.” This story is a tale that is prevalent in the world right now as members of the LGBTQA community fight for their right to life as who they are without the prejudice of others negatively affecting them. It takes an amines amount of strength to be yourself, but not everyone must fight to do so like Alex. The story ends with Alex opening the letter and his reaction is up to the performer.
With this letter in my hand my life is about to change. I’m too nervous to open it right now so I’m going to put it away as we talk for a bit, but I promise before we’re done here today I will have the courage to open it. I promise. I constantly find myself standing in front of mirrors. It may seem strange to you but for me it is a way of life. What am I looking at you might ask? I asked myself the same thing sometimes. Am I looking at my hair or am I looking at my chest or am I completely obsessed with the wrinkles or lack thereof on my skin? I’m not exactly sure anymore why I just can’t pass a mirror without looking at myself... judging. If you’ve never been judged before on how you look congratulations, you literally should throw a party especially if you’re over the age of- hell I don’t know- seven. I have been judged, juried and sentenced to death all my life. From the time I gravitated towards G.I. Joe instead of Barbie, from the moment I picked up a football instead of a flower, from the day I went outside and played tackle football with my dad and brothers instead of being in the house watching soap operas with my mom. It was cute when I was little, like four of five but then I got older and it became a nascence. There were so many days when as a child I just wanted to be a child liking what I liked, doing what I wanted to do, just being me. Not being labeled or questioned as gay or straight or non-binary or cisgender just me. Me happens to be Trans.