I sat in the middle of my bed, my lights off, headphones in, laptop open and door locked. On the screen sat a blank document. The song Self Conclusion blared in my ears on repeat. The tears pooled in my eyes and began to silently roll down my cheeks. I hadn't even realized I was crying till the first tear hit the keyboard. That's when I started to type. It was 2 a.m. when I typed the words 'Dear Mom and Dad.'

I wrote, cried, and wrote some more for what felt like hours. The same two actions on repeat; type, pause to cry, type, pause to cry. Eventually I ran out of tears and just sat typed, red nosed and dry eyed, pouring my thoughts and feelings out into the letter. I wrote what I knew I could never begin to tell them. I glanced at the clock before signing it, it said 5:02. Three hours had passed and my parents would up soon. I quickly typed 'Love, Your daughter, Samantha' backspaced and typed 'Love, your Son, Lucas.' I closed my laptop, placed it on the floor next to my bed, and quickly fell asleep.

That was three weeks ago. Everyday since then has been filled with nerves and worries. I'm scared what they will do when they read the letter; I'm worried they will hate me. But as I sit here with the letter in my hands, the only emotion I am felling is nerves, Today is the day I will hand them the letter, walk out the door, and return home hours later to face their reactions.

It's 3 p.m. according to the clock. I've only been sitting on my bed for the last ten minutes but it feels as though hours have passed. It's time for me to leave. With one final deep breath, cross of my fingers, and a short prayer, I stand up. My parents aren't home yet so I place the letter on the counter and walk out the door. I sit in my car and collect myself before backing out of my driveway and heading to youth group. The five minute drive suddenly felt like it took an hour. When I got to Mr. Zander's house I put my car in park and began to head to the backyard. Halfway there I paused, powered off my phone and headed through the gate, joining my friends by the pool. I have a feeling tonight is gonna be the longest night of my life. I drew a deep breath and ran over to my friends.

"Hey guys, ready for an awesome night?!" I said in my normal cheery tone. No way I could let them see the real me, not here, not tonight. 

"Hey Sammy Girl!" said my friend Kaylee. I tried my hardest to not show the hurt I felt each time I was called my birth name. I was not Samantha a 17 year old girl. I hadn't been for a long time. I'm Lucas, a 17, soon to be out of the closet, trans man.

The first few hours of the night are a complete blur. We sat up tables and chairs, did the food prep, and made sure everything was in place for our first youth group meeting. It felt as though those hours just went by. My body was on autopilot and my mind was far away. 

Around six o'clock people began to show up. We swam, ate tacos, and swam some more. I didn't do too much talking. I spent most of the night in the pool, exchanging minimal small talk with the few people who actually tried to talk to me. I was relieved when I got out of the pool and saw that it was already 8:45. Thirty more minutes till I was going home.

I was shocked by my own feelings when I realized they were that of relief rather than fear. I finally was no longer nervous, no longer worried about that they would think. I knew that they may not accept me but that no longer mattered. I had money, a job, and a car. As difficult as it would be I knew I could transition on my without their help. As much as I hoped  I would not have to, I knew I could.

Before I knew it I was getting in my car to head home. I began to read the letter out loud. I read it fifty-eight times in the last twenty-one days. Reciting it had become second nature. With the music off I listened to myself say what I knew my parents had just recently read. 

"Dear Mom and Dad," I began, "About a year ago I came out to the both of you as being lesbian. Although we do not discuss it often I know that I have your support. What I hope for is that after the both of you read this letter I continue to have your support.

"This last year I have done a lot of thinking and came to terms with a lot of thoughts that have been in my head for years. It took some time, a lot of time, to come to terms with who I truly am and who I want to be. That person is not a 17 year old lesbian girl, because who I feel I am is actually a 17 year old straight male.

"Yes you read that right. I've came to terms with the fact that I am transgender. I have a feeling this is a shock to the both of you, but I ask that you keep reading. I know that over the last few months I have added pink to my room and bought typically "girly" objects and clothes, but this is not because I want to be "girly," I did these things and acted the way I have because it is who i felt I had to be. Now that I have learned and accepted who I want to be, I would like to start moving in that direction. Some things may make more sense to you now, such as my short hair cut. I've been trying to do little things to better reflect who I am. This has been hard to do since my clothing is on the girly.

"I know that you guys have just been faced with some life changing information and probably don't know what to do with it. So let me tell you what I would like to do. First and foremost I would like to start going to therapy, not because I'm unsure that is what i want, but so that I can learn techniques for how to deal with stress, gender dysphoria, and the comments and rejection I know i will face in the coming months and years. I would also like to slowly change my wardrobe so that it has n=more masculine clothing. I hope to get a chest binder as soon as possible so i can feel comfortable with my body image (in case you guys haven't noticed, I hate my chest).

"Now that you know what I want to do in the short run, I want to tell you what I hope to do in the long run. I hope to go on testosterone before starting college. I hope to get my birth certificate reissued stating my gender as male. I hope to someday have a breast removal surgery. I hope to some day have gender reassignment surgery. I hope to find a girl who will call me their boyfriend. I hope to be a happy and healthy young man who loves himself.

"Of all the things I hope to have happen, I know happiness will be the hardest. But I also know that the last few weeks I have been the happiest I have in a long time. I told Rebekah who I am and she has been great. She has started using male pronouns for me and calling me Lucas. Two things I hope you guys will do. The more I get called Sammy and Samantha, the more I hate myself. I love who I am, the real me, and I hope you guys will too. 

"I know you guys will want to protect me, and I know you guys will think that the best way to do this is to have me wait till after high school to start to transition, but I know doing that will make things worse. I can handle comments from others, what I can no longer handle is hiding tho I am. I need to do this, soon. 

"I hope you keep that in mind. Take time to process this before speaking to me, please. I wrote this on July 2nd and have read it over and over since them. I am not an immature teenager acting on a whim. i have thought a lot about this. I know this is me. As always, I love you.

"Love, your Son,

Lucas"

I finished reciting the letter as I pulled into my driveway. I turned my music on to listen to a song before getting out. I took some deep breaths and sang along to the second half of Self Conclusion. I let the song end and turned off my car. This was it, no turning back now. I stepped out of my car, locked the doors till I heard my alarm chirp, and walked to my front door. I put my key int the lock and turned it. I was ready for whatever awaited me on the other side of that bright red door. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. My life was forever different.