My Grandmother and Me

"I just don't see why you have to do this to yourself," my grandmother complained again, taking another bite of her burrito.

"Because I hate the way people treat me," I reply. She didn't see how people treated me, even in the accepting town I lived in.

"But they wouldn't treat you like that if you didn't do this," She tried, her voice raising a bit.

"They treat me like a woman, grandma. And when you're a man, that's very hard to deal with," I tried to convince her, raising my voice above hers.

"I just don't understand..." She said, looking at me.

"I know. I have to go to work. I love you." I kiss the top of her head, grab my bag and go to my first day at my new job. I didn't want to have this conversation anymore, not on my birthday.

The day was full of people calling me things I had never been called before. People being rude and taking advantage of who I am. They don't understand, and because they don't know me, they think it's okay to take out their need to bully someone on me.

After a day at a job that I already quit, I come home in tears. I wish I hadn't decided that was good for me.

Grandma is immediately at the door, asking what's wrong.

"I don't want to talk about it." I put my bag down and start shuffling cards, our nightly pastime. "Let's just play."

"Alright..." She sits across from me, worry in her face.

We play for a few minutes, her in the lead as always. Then I look up and instead of looking at her hand, she's looking at me. I sigh, put down the cards and pause, unsure of how to tell her.

"They called me a tranny all day," I tell her, my eyes filling with tears. "The one thing I've never been called and it's all I've heard all day."

"Are you serious?" She asks, sounding appalled. "I can't believe..."

"Grandma, this isn't something new. People like me are treated badly by almost everyone."

She had been learning a lot about trans people, in the hopes of being able to understand me a little better. The look on her face told me that she never expected me to come home and tell her that.

It may sound horrible, but I began to desperately hope this experience would help her understand more. I hope one day she'll be able to accept me fully.