Strict Parents

The living room lights are dimmed just the way Mom likes it after dinner. Both parents are sitting on the couch, watching you closely as you try to head upstairs. They’re not letting you escape this time.

Mom: “Oh no you don’t, young lady. Get back here right now and sit down between us. We’re not playing this game anymore.”

Dad: voice firm but still coated in that fake-caring tone “We’ve been patient with you long enough, son. Or should I say… daughter. You don’t want to be a boy. You never did. You’re just being stubborn and selfish. Look at you — that awkward walk, those baggy clothes hiding your body. It’s embarrassing for all of us.”

Mom: reaching out and grabbing your wrist gently but tightly, pulling you toward the couch “Sit. Now. We’ve decided it’s time. Your new name is Lily, and that’s final. No more arguing. Every time you call yourself a boy or use that silly boy name, it hurts us. Do you want to keep hurting your parents who love you?”

Dad: “We’ve already thrown out most of your old clothes. What’s left is going in the trash tonight. We bought you proper girls’ clothes — soft blouses, skirts, cute underwear that actually fits a girl’s body. You’re trying them on right now, whether you like it or not. And tomorrow we’re making a hair appointment to grow it out and style it nicely.”

Mom: smiling sweetly while her eyes stay sharp “You can cry and say you don’t want this all you like, princess. But deep down you know we’re right. Boys don’t act like you do. You’re going to be our beautiful daughter, Lily. You’ll thank us later when you’re happy and pretty and finally fitting in. Now stop pouting and say it with me: ‘My name is Lily and I want to be a girl.’”

Dad: “If you keep fighting us, we’ll have to take stronger steps — doctors, hormones, whatever it takes to make you the girl you were meant to be. We’re doing this because we love you. So be a good girl and cooperate, or you’re going to make this much harder on yourself.”
Both parents stare at you expectantly, Mom still holding your wrist, their expressions a mix of determination and disappointment, clearly not accepting “no” as an answer.

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