An ode to Bravery and Pseudonyms

I live in a small, rural town. I live in the state where taking a girl on a tractor ride is as good of a first date as would be taking her to a movie and dinner. I live in an area where drugs and alcohol are most teens Friday night plans. Where most girls wear pretty clothes( size zero or below) and bleach their hair.

That's why I know what it's like to be different. Not radically so, in a manner of speaking only.
I'm the girl who had few friends, black clothes and odd views.
I was the girl who was constantly asked if I was Gothic or a witch from curiously spiteful mouthes.
I love the color black and the color purple. I have my ears pierced three times each, along with my nose and lip.  My hair is Crayola crayon red.
Yes, I am weird. Yes, I've been picked on, ridiculed and spited. And Yes, I know people out there that are normal on the outside but get picked on for what's on the inside. And those are the people who deserve praise.

No, they don't always run around and scream their life preferences( I'm not talking dead or alive, preferences you sicko).  They don't wake up one morning and randomly announce they're gay at the breakfast table.
They're the ones who sometimes hold it inside, not out of fear or cowardice of themselves, but out of fear of what will come with an announcement.

Who is going to hate me?

   Who will stop talking to me?
     
      What will my parents say?
        
            Who will understand?

               Who won't?
                 
                     How many people are going to make a big deal out of it?

I can't really speak for this person for I've never gone through what they have. I've never had the thought that I am unhappy being the gender I am.   Sure, being a girl sucks. Come on people one reason: PERIOD. And I'm not talking about the period at the end of an sentence either.

But I guess the worst thing about being either a girl or a boy is if you don't want to be what you came equipped with. And the best thing about the person I'll eventually get around to writing about is just that. But they admit it. I'm sure it is down right frightening to think to the future. For this person, it isn't "What will I be doing ten years from now" it's "What gender will I be? Will I be happy?"

The person I'm trying to praise is none other then Nate or Hayden. Which ever they prefer. I have a friend who is a boy and wants to be a girl. Do I feel proud of this person? No. Is it because I'm a hater of gays, bi's and transsexuals? Hell no. It's because my "friend" was first anorexic then gay then switched to being "a girl trapped in a boys body."  If you were to know this person like I did, then you'd know why I'm not proud of him like I am of Nate. It's because my friend is doing it for attention. That was his life in school. He went with whatever got him attention and when it stopped, he went to something else in a snap of the fingers. So, why should I waste my sparkling-eye-praise on him when I can put it to someone who deserves it. To someone who honestly realizes who they are on the outside and are working towards who they are on the inside.

From what I've read in their own blog, they view themselves as cowardly for having a lot of spirit but not doing anything with it. Let me tell you something.  Bravery doesn't connect only to what you do for others, it connects to what you've done for yourself, Nate. Admitting to the world in your blog that you are what you are, well, that's bravery. And while I'm no Harry Potter (I tried to get into Hogwarts, it just didn't work out, especially when Snape took out an restraining order on me) I'm still proud of you. I'm not disappointed. I never will be.  Kudos to you. Very many kudos.