Freshwater Literary Journal 2021

Luiz Emanuel de Castro Moura Genesis People say that running away is for cowards. On the contrary, I believe only the strongest would ever dare to run away. At seventeen years old, I was driven to run away from my family and home in Brazil.

I was six years old when I realized that males and females were different.

In my family, boys would play with cars and balls; girls would play with makeup and dolls. I saw that girls would wear dresses, pants, shorts, and skirts, while boys would wear jeans and tee-shirts every day. I made the decision to tell my mother I wanted to be a girl. My mother, being a religious woman, waited for my father to get home and took me to the pastor for help. When my parents explained my situation to the pastor, he answered, “Your son is dealing with homosexuality, your family needs to fast for thirty days and pray each morning at 3 a.m.” I was confused, scared, and overwhelmed. I didn’t understand, I wanted to wear dresses and play with dolls.

One day, while my father was at work, my mother told me I could choose anything I wanted to wear for the day. I ran to her closet, grabbed her favorite dress and the highest heels I could find. I recall feeling so ecstatic that I could wear what I wanted and was proud to show my mother what I chose. I walked down the hallway and went to the living room to show my mother. She looked at me, smiling woefully. She let me play dress up for a short while, but eventually took my hands and said, “My son, mommy loves you very much, but this is the last time you are going to wear that, okay? We are going to pray right now; you are going to get better and everything will be fine.” We went to the bedroom and she fell on her knees crying. I do not remember what she asked God, I only remember feeling guilty for making the most important person in the world cry, and I vowed to myself never again to wear a dress.

After the thirty days passed, we went back to the pastor and he claimed, “Your son’s homosexuality is cured. But only seventy percent; the other thirty percent is going to be up to him.” My parents dedicated their lives to never letting that thirty percent become stronger than the seventy percent. That is when everything started to change. I was told “men don’t help in the kitchen,” but I loved to cook. My parents expected me to play soccer, but I hated soccer.

I wanted to play with dolls, but I wasn’t allowed. I began cautiously not letting myself be too feminine. Anytime I felt I had done something wrong I would turn to my mother and beg for her to pray with me. My mother would ask me to repeat with her “God, forgive me for I have sinned. I am sorry for hurting you, God. I promise to be a better man, to be yours, forever. Amen.”

Life continued, and I became the young man they expected me to be. I was masculine, I went to church weekly and I began dating women. I tried faking it for the time being hoping that one day, I would believe it to be true. My parents 17