As I sit here today, thinking about a time in my life that more than likely began all this with my “Life As A Transgender”. I have always remembered when I was five years old, my Mom would drag me over the rows of fresh cut sugarcane. Where we lived in Louisiana they grow a lot of that, so when my Mom was looking for my Dad at the bars, she would take a short cut through the cane fields, just dragging me along because she couldn’t leave me at home.
My Dad worked offshore on a drilling rig, two weeks on and one week off. When he was in, all he wanted to do was go to the bar and drink. Mom had to chase him down to get money to eat with. They would always fight about money.
I still can remember all the cuts and bruises that I had on my legs and feet. I was always crying, that’s for sure. Mom would tell me that I should have been born a girl, but I had to be a boy. I had three sister, none of them had to live in foster care like I did. For some reason she told me this all the time, then one day a lady came to our home and my stuff was put into a box and off I went.
A few days later I found myself on a farm with two old people that I didn’t know and standing next to me was my little brother, he was only three. Mom had come over and even though they are not suppose to come like that, she did anyway. It was time for her to leave and I thought to myself that we would be going with her but, That wasn’t the plan. She got into her car and shut the door. I was holding on to the handle when she started to back out down the driveway. I was crying and begging Mom not to leave me here, take me with you please, take me home, I had forgotten about all those cuts, at least it was a home of a sort. She just looked at me and said that she could only keep the girls, that she couldn’t deal with boys and told me again that I should have been born a girl. When it was all done I was standing there holding the hand of my three year old little brother, that was the day I became his Mother. Today he will not even talk to me, say’s he doesn’t have anyone named Bobbie Jean in is life.
As time moved on and I grow up, I have always had this feeling that I could have been a better Mother then My Mom. I have had to deal with this all my life. All I ever wanted was for my Mom to sign the papers and just let me move on with my life. Till today she still tells me that it was not her fault, it was mine because I was not born a girl, and now that I have become that girl, my Mom will have nothing to do with me, so you can’t please all the people all the time, but you can please a few some of the time.
Today I am a better woman then my Mother ever was.
All I ever wanted was a family, a real family.
Don’t get me wrong here, I have forgiven my Mom with Gods help, but I can never forget what she done to me.
These are a few places to find my writings an maybe other things as well.
My Secret Garden
Written by Bobbie Jean Chiasson
The stories that I write are true and about me and what I have to deal with in my day to day life. It is about the things that I believe in and it is only my point of view. It has nothing to do with you as you are free to live the life style that you chose to live. It is an open book diary that I have chosen to share with you.
The pictures that I use on here are from my now and then.
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