Tragedy Of The Spirit -Part 1- Genesis

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Tragedy Of The Spirit-Revised
Chapter 1 Genesis

By PrairieGirl64

Edited By Stanman63, Proofed By JennFl and Nora Adrienne


 
This is the genesis of my auto-biography. I will go into graphic detail in my story of tragedy. But there is also Hope and Peace in the end. If your Heart is unable to handle such tragedies, I will understand. But if you are able to, I invite you, the reader to stay with me for my journey.

I will introduce myself, my name is Melissa, however it was never this name that I was born with, and it is my new name. I chose it later, after tragedy struck my life. A tragedy that should have destroyed me, but instead, it forged me into who I am, one who is beyond tragedy. My early child hood is the beginning of my tragedy, my tragedy of the Spirit.

You may wonder why I chose 'Tragedy Of The Spirit' as the title, it is simple, and I have found Peace, a Peace that is my triumph over tragedy. It
is my Hope that in telling my story, that you too may know that Peace.

I was adopted at 4 months old into what I thought of was a loving family environment. Being so young and male was different and difficult. Different in that I was different and difficult in that I was different. A difference that would become my tragedy, a difference that for years, I believed made me a loner, loner in that there were none like me. I did not know that there were others born like me. If I did know, my story would be different.

I realized at an early age I was different, I was a girl born in a boys body. I wanted to be a mother and have children as my mother had with me. Back then, I knew nothing about how to make a baby back then, just that I wanted to be like Mother. I was an innocent girl who would lose her innocence and naiveté in one tragic night that would launch me into a world that devoured innocence, leaving behind tragedy.

I was 6 or so when my earliest memories of my cross-dressing occur. I wanted to look like my mother. I had no sister or girl cousin to emulate or borrow clothes from, and we lived on a farm, so I had no close to shared my secret with either.

I remember one particular morning after I spent the previous day dressed in my moms short denim skirt and red sequin blouse. This particular morning my mom stormed into my room carrying the same outfit I wore the day before. She was really mad and crying. She yelled at me by saying:

Mom: "You little freak, how dare you wear my clothes!"

Myself: "I didn't!"

Mom: "You are a little liar and a no good son. If you wanna be a girl then you will be treated as one, get up and put this on!"

Myself: "NOOOOO, I will not wear that to school, I was just seeing what I looked like!" not letting her know my true feelings.

Mom: "You little shit, you will be ready for school in 10 minutes dressed in this outfit, OR ELSE!"

Myself: "NOOOOO!" I screamed.

At that point my father came bursting in my room carrying the bridle we had for the horses in the barn. Fear overtook me and I screamed at both of them telling them that I hated them for what they were doing to me. My father hauled me out of bed by my longish hair and began whipping me with the leather straps of the bridle. I screamed and was crying hysterically to no end. I was hauled to the barn and hung by the ropes that were there to tie the horses up for grooming and whipped.

When I woke up I was a mess and blood leaking from my back and face where I had been beat and wearing that very outfit I had on the day before. I will always remember that first beating as it was only yesterday; it is engrained on my slate that shaped me and made me the person whom I am today............

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Comments

ROUGH!!!

BarbieLee's picture

I'll read Prairie Girl's story. It will have to be in very small pieces. Her life started out heartbreaking. My heart and soul can take only so much at a time. I want to know her and it is her story. The love, sorrow, joy, pain of all of those so blessed with the boy-girl mix has been a life long research. I want to tell the world who doesn't understand, they can not be lumped into one size fits all definition. Each one a unique individual. Too many times even those whose mind and body never blended as one, think a common bond ties them all together.

Melissa, we'll have that heart to heart talk when I join you. I pray you have already figured it out by then. Maybe you'll give me a guided tour? I was in a little bit of a hurry last time and didn't really stop to take in all the sights.
always,
Barb

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl