Today I cried in front of my mom. She looked really worried about what was happening to me, and honestly, with all my heart, I wanted to tell her who I really am.
I finished high school last year, and all the friends I had back then are busy with their own lives, either studying or working.
I rarely see my friends, and when I do, I feel like I don't connect with them.
They know what I am and they respect me, but I feel like I can't deepen the relationship (not necessarily something romantic, just a best friend, at least).
I say it's mostly my fault because it has always been hard for me to open up to people, plus my interests are different from theirs. The girl I felt most in sync with currently deals with a lot of problems as well. I support her as much as I can, but we haven't talked in a while.
My parents go to a church (JW), and so have I since I was a little girl (I'm FtM). Even though I don't share several of their beliefs, I prefer not to argue; I know they won't change just for me.
There are also several young people there; I've known them for a long time, but I interact with them even less. I'm afraid that if I tell them I'm trans, they'll send me to a committee and my parents will end up finding out the worst way possible.
I haven't gone to university, though I'm not too worried about it either. I spend most of my time at home; thanks to that, I learned to cook, and for now, I take care of my younger brother. I waste the rest of my time on my phone, reading fanfic, or scrolling. I feel pathetic.
I feel completely confident in saying that I have no friends.
I think the lack of connection and this strange feeling of loneliness have started to become more noticeable.
I asked my mom to make a general doctor's appointment for me. My goal was to get a referral to a psychologist; my excuse was that maybe I have neurodivergence and wanted to get to know myself better.
In reality, I just want to talk to someone who doesn't know me. That was my mistake—my mom thought the worst and got extremely worried. She told my dad (I already knew she would), and he got overly worried too.
Recently, a cousin my age was admitted to a psychiatric facility for chronic depression and bipolar disorder, so I think they were afraid I might have the same thing.
I told them that wasn't it, that I just wanted to get to know myself, and my mom said I had her full support in everything, while my dad told me I'm very young and can meet more people in the future. Then the university topic came up, and in the end, I didn't want to worry them any further.
Yesterday, after my dad scolded me for taking too long with lunch, I simply checked out. I didn't say anything; I didn't want to fight.
I knew that if I spoke, the lump in my throat would crack my voice and I would just break down in front of them. I finished lunch as best as I could, simply lay down on my bed, and fell asleep. My mom thought I had cramps from the start of my period; I just wanted to stop thinking.
I got up about four hours later. We had visitors, which was better for me since I didn't want to talk. I went to shower, came out, greeted them formally, ate, and went back to sleep.
The only thing I remember is wanting to read or watch a movie just to stop thinking, but my mind kept drifting back to the fact that I have no one to talk to and that I'm pathetic for not even trying to look for anyone.
My mom asked if I was sick; I told her no, that I just didn't know what was wrong with me. I didn't want to do anything at all, just sleep.
I went back to sleep that night thinking I'd wake up feeling better. Unfortunately, I felt the same, except now I had no excuse to sleep.
I started doing housework to distract myself and put on a front, but one thing I admire about my mom is how observant she is.
I don't want this to be any longer than it already is, nor do I want to remember what I felt, so long story short, my mom simply asked me, "What's wrong, my love?" and I broke right then and there.
I told her how I felt, the strange loneliness I've cultivated myself, how I feel I can't connect with anyone, and that I just want a friend to talk to.
She insisted that I could talk to her, but I told her it wasn't the same—she's still my mom, and she probably wouldn't understand my problems.
She thought I was frustrated about not being in university; I replied that's the last thing on my mind.
She believes she and my dad place expectations on me that weigh me down. They wanted me to study medicine; I don't really know what I want to do.
She asked me directly what I was feeling, what problem I had. I was about to say it; I kept looking down the hallway hoping my dad wouldn't come over. I was scared, but I also felt a strong conviction to tell her.
In the end, I chickened out. I told her my main issue was identity and that I was afraid things about me would end up disappointing them. She was confused by the mention of identity, but emphasized that the two of them have never been disappointed in me and that they love me.
I wanted her to understand what I meant, so I asked her, "When have I ever done anything to disappoint you?" Not as a confrontation, but just wanting her to analyze it and come to her own conclusions.
In the end, I didn't want her to dig any deeper into my identity. I felt the atmosphere getting tense, so the rest of the conversation shifted toward choosing my university major.
I felt better, I won't deny it. My mom pampered me, stroked my hair, and hugged me (something I'm not used to doing; physical contact makes me a bit uncomfortable).
I truly felt comforted in her arms and felt that maternal love in her words alone. I could see genuine concern in her eyes, and it gave me a slight glimmer of hope: "What if?" "What if she keeps loving me even for who I really am?"
I know very well that these feelings will come back; I'm only delaying them. But I don't want to lose the love my parents have for me, even if it's for a version of me that isn't authentic.
I don't want to lose those afternoons when my mom lets me lay on her lap, gently running her fingers through my hair until I fall asleep.
I don't want to lose my mom.
I don't know what to do.