Androgyny Short Story


I do consider myself androgynous, but this story is not based on events in my life. It was just an idea that I thought of. Enjoy!

     

     I am whatever that I feel that I am everyday. One day I wear baggy sweats and the next day I wear bright colors that stand out. Well, I mostly wear the baggy sweats, but that is not an issue with me. When I do decide to dress more feminine, I never go too far and wear makeup. That is what dissapoint my mother. She told me that all the Diaz women in our family wear makeup. One day she even handed me a lipstick and said that it “has to happen sooner or later.” I have barely touched that lipstick, but it still sits around in my room. Red. Why did she have to give me the color that catches people’s eyes?

 When I was young, I was used to being mistaken for a boy or for my brother because I mostly wore sporty clothes with the big numbers on the back. I never wanted to be a boy, but what I wore made it seem that way. I was hoping that will change in high school because my look has more variety and I have grown. As I started high school, reality hit me hard and that pain continued every day.

     The first time I walked past a group of girls, and they immediately laughed at me because I did not look like them. I heard one of them say that I look weird, and all their words suddenly spread to the rest of the school. At this point, I was harassed no matter what I wore. Those same girls repeated what they said about me everyday and pretend to trip as they push their bodies on top of me. I lost the chance to be happy because I looked different.

     At first, I didn’t know how to make the comments stop, but I later realized what I have to do. I rushed into my room and grabbed the fresh lipstick. I ran to the mirror and stared hard into my face. The thing that nobody approves of. I took off the top of the lipstick and twisted the lipstick up to use. I lifted it close to my lips, but not too close.

  I guess I really am whatever they say that I am. I feel the lipstick start to shake as it is in my hand. I don’t know what I want anymore, but I do know that a little bit of this lipstick will change everything.

     Just a little bit. 


Thoughts? Suggestions? Let me know in the comments below. Thanks for using your time to read this. You’re still breathing, so stay strong. Goodbye.  

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