(Source: , via ruinedchildhood)
My mother knew I had trophies, but I was telling her I won them for basketball. And I had won trophies for running track. I was walking up 145th Street with my girlfriends. I had on white hot pants, a chiffon blouse, a ponytail. And my father was waiting for the light in his car. And he saw me. He recognized me. And he went straight to my house before I could get there and told my mother, “your son is a woman.” She didn’t press it then. But, like, maybe a few months later when she noticed I had breasts, everything started coming together. She was really devastated. “How could you have breasts bigger than mine? You’re growing nails. You’re becoming a woman right before my very eyes. I can’t hold my head up. I’m embarrassed.” And she still loved me, but the nagging and the…oh, my God, about this women’s clothes. And when I had women’s clothes stashed in my closet and she found them, she would destroy them.
Arabic Proverb (via bl-ossomed)