Girl Mans Up

People should just be allowed to look in the mirror and see all kinds of possibilities.

I think maybe she could be my girlfriend. I don't want to be her girlfriend, though. But there's this part of me that totally knows I could be her boyfriend. I don't want her to think of me as a boy, or a boy substitute, though. I want to be a boyfriend who is a girl. I have no idea how to explain that stuff to anyone, let alone a girl I like. I just wish it was already all understood.

It's okay to feel bad about how things went down, but it's not okay to drown in guilt and regret every day for having made decisions other people don't agree with. At some point, we all have to man up and decide to do what we have to do, despite the people around us who try to get in the way.

Things look different in the morning. Sometimes they’re better, but other times they feel wrong. Sometimes you regret doing something so much because it made you realize things about yourself—like that you never wanted to do that thing in the first place.

My mom's like me and she doesn't want to look weak in front of other people. And she's like Colby in the way that she has to take hits at other people whenever she feels threatened. That used to make me want to cave and do what she wants. But it doesn't anymore.

Usually, I don't check myself out in the mirror. Mostly because without clothes on, I weird myself out. Maybe everyone thinks they look funny naked. My body is fine, I guess, but I wouldn't want anyone to see it. [...] When I have my clothes on, I feel normal. When my clothes aren't on, it's like I lose something important about myself. When I think about someone else seeing me like this, it feels like they'd actually be seeing some other person. Like it wouldn't be me they'd be looking at. It's not like I want to be looking at a boy's body in the mirror. It's just that a girl's body is so... girl.

There are so many things I want to say. All a waste because we don’t speak the damn launguage, and she doesn’t know how to listen anyway.

This—us kissing—is making me have mini heart attacks over and over. She makes little noises, which make me have to hold on to bigger noises that try to force their way out of my throat. I don’t know how late it is, but it feels like time stopped and sped up all at the same time. I just want to be next to her, to have her be super close to me all the time.

Why is my voice so high-pitched when I cry? I run at my leaky nose.... “When everyone was licking on me at school when I was little, it was Johnny who came with his buddies to check on me. Johnny bought me my Turtles. Johnny took me to the movies. Johnny gave me his clothes. Johnny let me play hockey outside with him. Johnny cut my hair. Johnny—“ Now I have the hiccups.

I wish they spoke better English, or that I spoke better Portuguese.

If you go against Mae and Pai, you’re gonna find yourself knee-deep I shit with no one to pull you back out. Sometimes you gotta wait to make your move, you know?” It sounds like he’s talking to himself. “You can’t always be a hot-head and go rushing in all pissed off, you know?

Mom looks up, asking the ceiling why I couldn't just be going around sneaking cigarettes and sneaking boys up to my room like a normal girl. I say nothing. Johnny asks my parents what decade they're from. Dad states the year he was born and asks what that has to do with anything. Mom says Johnny needs to shut up right now.

I had my hair then. Now, there's nothing left that makes me a girl, except for the fact that I am one. But I guess that's not enough.

This costume she's been so desperate for me to wear. It's all right here, covering me up. [...] I'm in drag right now. I'm a homo right now. This is worse than a Halloween costume because its not funny.

I don’t speak enough Portagese to be able to defend myself against that, so I shrug and sigh, and ignore what I can.

I can barely learn enough Portuguese to make sense to anyone besides my parents.

While we head home, I think about how when I grow up, I want to be just like my brother. That's the kind of girl I want to be.

I laugh because that's the funniest thing: I never decided I wasn't a girl anymore. That was everyone else assuming.

I guess for me, it's that I like guys, but...I like when girls are being guys even more.

It was a huge deal. Because I felt like a homo. For the first time ever, I felt really queer. In a bad way. His hands were on me, and the feeling got worse. The feeling I get when I see myself naked in the mirror -- that feeling, times a hundred. He touched me, and I turned into the kind of girl I'm not.

Yeah, yeah. Respect," Johnny says, standing up. "You know, for a word to mean something, you gotta do stuff to back it up.