Warning: Explicit Language

Introduction & Polite Words

It began with an all-too-familiar cartoon, the Powerpuff Girls. From the moment that my developing mind could create a memory, I was smitten with the courage and bravery of Buttercup. Was it because I loved the color green and she was green? Was it because she didn’t take any shit from anyone? Or was it because she was the first introduction to what I had felt inside- masculinity in a female form? Four-year-old me didn’t care- I just knew I liked Buttercup and she was my favorite.

It grew after that. Forget Barbies, I want to play with Hot Wheels on the city map rug. I don’t want to wear a dress, I’d prefer pants, please. Why can’t I take my shirt off like those boys are doing so? I just want to play PlayStation at home. Stop braiding my hair, just cut it all off Mom.

People ask transgender people all the time; when did you know?

Fuck. It’s so cliché. I don’t know, Helen. I just felt this way, from as long as I can remember. It’s not so much a know, like I know I don’t like peanuts. It’s more of a...holy shit, I just finally found the piece of the missing puzzle that explains the whole puzzle. I finally understand the whole fucking puzzle, Karen.

I hate talking about my childhood; it just brings up sadness for me, personally. Plus, my memory is not the greatest because of repressive traits, so we’ll talk about my teenage years and what that was like.

I didn’t really understand how to express myself fully; the one thing that I felt like I could express myself fully with was my hair. As it turns out, my mom forbid me to cut my hair, for any given reason, until I was 17. Shopping for the clothing that was made for my assigned gender was comparable to pulling teeth- why aren’t there any pockets in these jeans, let alone why are they so tight? This shirt is cute but it hugs my stupid curves. I don’t care about coffee or yoga, I care about video games and comfort. I felt true bliss when I tried on the first pair of mens’ clothing- pockets, plenty of room, baggy shirts hiding my true physical form...oh my god. I love all of this.

And then, I went to gay camp...

My name is Max. I chose the name Maximiliano as my middle name because it was the runner up for my first name and because, my initials make up for the acronym that describes the act of fellatio- a sly nod to my shitposting meme attitude. The other reason I chose Maximiliano is because it means “the greatest” and was chosen by royal blood. I chose that name four years ago, when I officially came out as a transgender man. Follow along as I tell the grand tale as what being a transgender man in the year 2018, in Madison, Wisconsin, looks like.

I grew up in a religious household. Nothing too strict but we went to Church pretty often. I grew up with the thought that homosexuality is wrong and that you're not that good of a person.

As I was finishing up high school, I started to develop feelings for guys. I fought with myself as this was totally against what I grew up knowing. Eventually, I decided to go off to college away from my hometown and figure myself out. I met some great friends after my first year at this new college. I even got myself a boyfriend in the meantime. However, I was afraid to tell anyone about it. It was my secret... but I hated keeping it secret. Why should who I love be a secret to everyone else? I went to my friend's dorm at night and came out to them even though I was afraid to admit it. My friends fully supported me and told me they were happy for me and wanted to meet my boyfriend. I was relieved. A weight lifted off my shoulders. Because of this, I gained confidence enough to tell more friends through casual conversation. They've all been great support systems in my life.

Next, I came out to my parents and my younger brother. Although my brother felt a bit strange about it at first, he hasn't treated me any different for it to this day. My parents told me they were disappointed that I didn't tell anyone sooner. My extended family found out about my boyfriend and, unfortunately, they didn't take kindly to it. It does bother me that they're not supportive of this but I take comfort knowing I have friends and some other family members that have been my support system and seeing me for who I am as a whole.

I'm still with my boyfriend to this day as well, despite not everyone around us supporting our relationship. I've learned a lot about myself through these times. I've learned that I've become a strong person with a strong support system.

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