Personal Narrative: My Mother Doesn T Cry

When I first said it to my mom, I could remember exactly how she sounded. She didn’t speak at first, nor did she attempt to really look at me. When she finally did say something, her voice sounded pitchy and tight as if she were choking back tears. She told me she was happy for me, that she accepted whatever I was, and whoever I could be. Later, however, she did cry directly in front of me, explaining how she didn’t want me to feel discrimination for other’s ignorance. That’s what it was like to tell my mother I was transgender. After that, I made a complete 180. I changed who I wanted to be, all of my more feminine desires weren’t suppressed. I grew my hair out, I tried dressing more feminine, and I took up the name Claves. But I still