Tale Weaver #315: The Bald Man

Sitting at the edge at the bathtub, naked, bald, one hand clutching a bottle of bourbon, the other a bottle of pills, Alex felt sad, alone, and lost.

“It’s all part of the treatment,” the doctor had said the day before, “at times, you may feel lost in your body like you’re no longer a woman but not yet a man. It’s okay to feel depressed.”

“I’m not depressed.” Alex had snapped, though inside, she felt unsure.

That afternoon, after slamming the door shut, she rushed to the bathroom, wanted to cry but couldn’t. Her hormones were completely upside down thanks to the hormone replacement regimen her doctor had placed her on. Clutching the edges of the sink, she stared into the mirror, gaze fixed upon her spiky brown hair.

In a swift motion, she grabbed the hair trimmer from the medicine cabinet, plugged it in, and rammed it across her spiky hair. One, two, three, four, five swooshes later, she once again stood before the mirror and examined her new look. There, she thought, no one can call me a freak anymore.

The next day, she visited her mother who almost screamed when she saw what had happened to her once-innocent daughter’s hair. “What did you do?”

“I’m on my way to becoming a man.” Alex replied.

“You are not and never will be a man, Alex.” Her mother said, “God gave you the gift of womanhood and you want to throw it all away? For what? To be a man?”

“I have never felt like a woman, mother. I am becoming a man whether you like it or not.” Alex stood and headed for the door.

“Well, then be a man. Walk out that door and never come back. I refuse to acknowledge you as my child and my kin.”

Now, sitting at the edge of the bathtub, naked, one hand clutching a bottle of bourbon, the other a bottle of pills prescribed by her doctor for hormone replacement, Alex felt sad, alone, and lost. Her mother had refused to accept her. She had lost the only kin in the world. She did not want to return to womanhood. She couldn’t.

“The only way is forward,” she said, popped a pill into her mouth followed by a swig of bourbon, “and forward is becoming a bald man.”

MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Tale Weaver

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