I remember glimpses of all my friends partying. I remember pink balloons and blue streamers. What I don’t remember is how I ended up with three broken ribs, a fractured collarbone, and a concussion.
It was a cold fall day in suburban Massachusetts. The foliage changed all the leaves from Celtic green to a bunch of red, yellow and brown hues. It was sprinkling and the fog swaddled the ground like a blanket. Its Thursday September 27th, 2016, the night of my sixteenth birthday. My sweet sixteen was located on the other side of town in Marblehead. The party was at my beach house on Davis Road, a beautiful house on the cliffs of Marblehead that overlooks the South Essex ocean sanctuary. My friends and I drove up listening to the new Chance the Rapper album Coloring Book, as we sang along and tried to rap. We almost crashed twice, Kelsey wasn’t paying attention to the road, but it’s fun; we’re having fun. The party was only supposed to be five or six of my closest friends. But that didn’t end up happening.
Nine o’clock rolls around, and we hear the doorbell go off and kids flood in. There must have been over 50 people, Seniors, juniors, freshman. It was like everyone in the whole school knew it was my birthday, and they’re all here to celebrate me. The music is blasting, people are acting crazy. I’m trying to find the valuables and put them somewhere safe. Two vases are already broken. I’m tripping over people’s feet, drinks of alcohol are spilling. The smell of marijuana was so thick that I couldn’t even see clearly. I’m praying no one calls the police because everyone here is underage.
The noise dies down just enough to hear my friend Natalie on her microphone she brought from home to try to look cool. Natalie is the type of person that needs to be the center of attention anywhere she goes. I love her for that, I think. “EVERYONE LISTEN UP, JUSTIN TURN DOWN THE MUSIC PEOPLE CAN’T HEAR ME” Natalie yells. “WE ARE HERE TO CELEBRATE MY DEAR FRIEND BRAYDON!!!” She said my name like a force. The word Braydon came out like she was throwing up. It was hard for her to speak my preferred name. That made my stomach turn, but I’m not one to think too much into things, so I let it slide and pay attention to what she’s about to say. She tells me to stand up on this platform to open gifts. There were three gifts on the table. Three bright neon pink envelopes. On those envelopes is my name. My dead name. My stomach did somersaults, and my brain screamed to leave. I opened a dead girls’ presents.
The first neon pink envelope I opened, there was a white piece of paper with black marker on it. It read “IT’S”. weird. Natalie made me read the paper into the microphone. The second envelope I tore through, the same thing. A white piece of paper and that one read in black sharpie “A”. Leave. I read the white paper into the microphone. The third envelope also had a white piece of paper inside. My heart started pounding for no reason, my hands were shaking. Inside the envelope the white paper had a question mark in blue and pink marker. Before I could react, before I could announce what the paper said into the microphone three jocks came up behind me and grabbed me. They were seniors. Run, get out, fight, do something other than being in shock. I fought them, I yelled help, everyone was watching me, laughing, video-taping. No one was going to help me. I locked eyes with Natalie and whispered help. My eyes pleaded, they begged her to do something. My hazel eyes were pleading with anyone that I locked eyes with to help me. Natalie, her black cold eyes locked mine one last time. There was no warmth inside them. No guilt for what she had done. What she was about to do. She is not your friend. My arms were being crushed by the three boys, the more I fought the more their grips held stronger. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I bit one of the boys’ fingers and made him bleed. He yelled at me, then punched me across the cheek. I could feel a tiny cut forming. I thought a tear fell from my cheek, but it was blood. Natalie read the last envelope. She read all the envelopes in the order I opened them. “IT’S A ?” This wasn’t my sweet sixteen. This was a gender reveal party. Everyone laughed. They called me a freak. A weirdo. A fag. A tranny. Natalie came over to me with her black eyes never breaking my gaze. She held out her arm near my jeans. She started to unzip my zipper. She threw my pants off, my underwear with my black ripped skinny jeans. I was exposed. Everyone at the party yelled “IT’S A GIRL!” “IT’S A GIRL!” “THAT’S NOT A BOY.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Natalie crouched down next to me and whispered to the guys that were still holding me down “teach the freak a lesson.” The three boys did exactly what she told them to do.
They taught me a lesson.
“EVERYONE THE PARTY IS OVER GO HOME” Natalie yelled. People cursed her out, but got in their cars and left.
The only sounds I heard after, were the waves breaking against the cliffs. It was peaceful.
My eyes shut.
I never cried.
I survived what happened to me that night on the cliffs of Marblehead, Massachusetts. I did not cry. I braced myself, and I took each hit. I am transgender. And that will never be a crutch for me. I will never hide from who I am for people that don’t understand. September 27, 2016 I almost lost my life, because of ignorance. But instead of dying, I woke up more alive than I've ever been.
“You gotta fight for your way, and that don't take nothing away, cause at the end of the day, this is all we got.” - Chance the Rapper.