Kristelle's Story: Approaching Adulthood

My sixth grade year can best be described with the phrase "it's all down hill from here". My parents were separated and on​the verge of divorce, I was struggling with a puberty that wasn't happening the way I thought it was supposed to, and my school work was suffering. To quote the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire..."This is the story all about how my life got flip turned upside down." And it was the year I realized that Santa isn't "real".

So one mid-November day of that year I was sitting in class listening in on one classmate tease another because they still believed in Santa. I remember thinking "Hey, I believe in Santa... what's so bad about that?" The kid went on about how it's just your parents putting gifts they bought for you under the tree. 

I wasn't set to believe the kid right away, but I figured the claim was worth investigating... And if I knew my mom the way I thought I did... She would've already gotten a head start on her presents... assuming of course that my classmate was being truthful.

At the time I was already taking regular excursions to my mom's room (when no one was home) to play dress up for awhile. So I thought "No harm in figuring out what I was going to get for Christmas too. When I got home I raced upstairs to get my search started. I looked everywhere I thought a present might be, intially coming up empty handed. So I began to go about my normal after-school routine. First dresser drawer I opened.... BINGO! Pokemon cards.

Pokemon was in it's first big height of popularity when I was in sixth grade. I had one of the games and I had a lot of cards already. Had no idea how to play, but the creatures were cool and the pictures were pretty. Plus I needed some way to occupy my time when I couldn't play dress up. 

Right next to the cards was a stack of papers, and the top one had my name on it. I remember thinking "It has my name on it, must be my business." Keep in mind I'm 12 years old here, so what I was about to discover was going to shock my system hard. 

So I already told you the story of my biological father. How he at first denied I was his and when it was proved I was how my mother got stubborn and righteously offended and took steps to eliminate him from my life. Yeah, well that's what this stack of papers explained...In a more barebones, legal sort of way. I didn't get the whole story, just the cliff notes.

Now, it's not like I hadn't had suspicions before this moment. Sure some of my more regular friends would question and hypothesize whether or not I was my dad's kid...but I always brushed it off as something you only see in movies or read about. "This never actually happens right?"

Naturally I was devastated. In that instant it seemed like my whole life was a lie. Why had my parents hidden this? And what was worse...Santa was real, and his punishment for questioning his existence was, "Merry Christmas, you're kind of adopted". Two lies in one drawer. 

In a fit of rage, and also fearing my new discovery would be realized, I took every single pack of Pokemon cards. Thinking it would serve as a distraction from the fact that I had discovered the true nature of my origins. Of course I was right.

A big fight ensued between my mother and myself. For her, the incident was about me taking Pokemon cards. And the issue was settled with my punishment for doing so. But the reality of the situation was that I was angry with her and my dad for lying to me, and nothing was settled. As far as I was concerned, this was war.

I was an absolute monster the next few years. I lied to my parents and teachers about all sorts of things. My mother and I fought like cats and dogs... regularly. Leaving my sister caught as an innocent bystander. Sorry sis.

It was during this time I had my first real opportunity to come out about how I felt about myself. I had been caught wearing clothes again and it caused a big fight between my mother and myself. She called my dad and had him deal with it this time. He came over and we sat in his car for awhile. It was the first time I was asked "Do you want to be a girl?" I sheepishly replied no. Of course it was a lie. But at the time I lied about a lot of things, and with the way my parents had reacted to this my whole life, there was no way I was going to be truthful about it now.

I can't be sure, but I think my dad knew I was lying because he asked "Then why does this continue to be an issue?" I didn't reply. He then asked if I wanted to see a doctor and in hindsight I should have said yes. But, at the time, the doctor was someone who you saw when you were sick. I wasn't sick, just being me.

My sister eventually approached our dad about moving to his house to get away from the chaos. And ​he filed for custody of both of us. This didn't go over well with my mother and it brought the drama to new heights. By the time I was in tenth grade, we moved to his house, and my anger subsided. But that was replaced by depression.

I realized very quickly that I was living in a house where the only person I was related to by blood was my sister, and that was only by half. There was a clear difference in how my dad and his new wife parented me versus how they parented my sister. Sure some of that was a result of my carelessness in school, but I mean can you blame me? My life over the last few years was like a roll of toilet paper after your cat gets ahold of it. And I still had these feelings about who I was that I had to deal with. 

I was now much more aware of what was going on with me and was doing all kinds of research on my own to see what could be done about it.

In 11th grade I got my first job, and that allowed me to build my own wardrobe. However, I was actually building two. My public one, and my private one. By this point I had become very skilled at hiding my secret, but eventually my wardrobe was found again. Sparking a series of events that would affect the next 8 years of my life.