{trigger warning: gender dysphoria, dead-naming, subtle transphobia, more vent writing for me than anything else}
He hated his birth name.
Whenever someone would refer to him wit it, his skin would start to crawl, but he had no choice but to respond. He had yet to choose a guy name for himself, and since his parents weren't at all supportive- they practically forced him into feminine clothing ever since he told them he'd rather wear anything else- he had no choice but to endure the name for what remained of his high school life.
It didn't get better when he asked his parents for the upteenth time if he could cut his hair, using a play he was in as an excuse, and for the upteenth time they told him-
"You can cut your hair short as long as you stay my princess, Bianca."
He flinched when his mother said that. She knew he hated her calling him that, but what was else she supposed to call him? The names he chose before were so common among trans boys that he always felt like a faker using them.
Since he came out when he was thirteen, he had gone through six songs. His friends- the ones who came and went, the ones who stayed, the ones who probably hated him now- helped, but he couldn't ever find one that fit.
Maybe he never would.
—
Dating was weird for him. He never knew if someone liked him because he looked like a girl or because they liked who he was. It was always a hit or miss, and he thought he struck a hit with Josh.
His boyfriend/best friend, who he'd been dating since they were fifteen, wasn't trans himself, but his sister was, so he had some semblance of how to help with his dysphoria. He tried his best to make him comfortable and avoid his dead name as much as he could, but sometimes it slipped out.
"Hey, Bianca, you want to go to the sushi restaurant after the movie?" Josh asked.
He froze, as did his boyfriend. Josh realized what he did and apologized profusely, but there was no name to replace the one he hated.
—
He knew. Damn it, he knew. He'd always known who he was, even before he had the proper words, but he couldn't prove it. His parents forced him to ditch all of his friends because they were 'influencing' him to believe he was a boy. Josh tried to get through loopholes, seeing him at school, making excuses to be around him so he didn't have to be with his thoughts alone too long, but it didn't work.
"That Josh isn't good for you, Bianca. He's making you believe that you're a boy and frankly, he's just a pain in the ass."
His parents were just trying their best, but he knew that if he told them they were dating, he'd never hear the end of it. As much as he wanted to fight back, he was a coward, so he let his family control what he wore, who his friends were, who he was.
Josh moved away that summer. They didn't talk anymore. Their breakup was slow and amicable, but painful nonetheless.
He knew he wasn't a girl. He'd known for years. But he didn't have a name, so his identity wasn't set in stone. It never would be. The more people he told, the realer is became, but how was he supposed to live without a name?
—
It took him five years since he turned thirteen to find a name. One that fit him and one that people couldn't deny any more.
"Tyler," he said, to his parents, his siblings, his ex-boyfriend/best firmed they soon became his boyfriend/best friend again. "My name is Tyler."
It took them an extra three years after that to start using his name. No more dead name. He was Tyler, and that was who he was always meant to be.
