My hair started getting longer. It was almost to my shoulders. "We need to do something about that hair," Mom said. I just shrugged. I didn't have a valid argument to tell her that I wanted long hair without giving myself away.
Logan always runs her fingers through it, making the cutest face, and saying in the cutest voice how scruffy it is.
But it didn't matter how cute Logan looked when she talked about cutting it off in my sleep. I wanted to keep it. I wanted it to grow until it reached my hips.
I wanted long hair. Pretty hair.
YOU ARE READING
The Diary Of A Troubled Trans*
RomanceIn loving memory of Leelah Alcorn. Shoutout to all the transgenders, whether mtf or ftm. You are all beautiful.
