Boy or Girl?

At times I find it hard to be myself – my true self that is – the one who is as open as a book and wears her heart on her sleeve. I wish I could always be this person but I can’t because I know I will be negatively judged by others. I have tried numerous times to be honest with people about my past involvement with drugs, alcohol, and prostitution, but once they hear this they no longer want to speak to me. When I was in my late teens this rejection used to bother me. But now that I am older and wiser I have learned how to deal with such situations. I have found that to build and maintain lasting friendships and relationships sometimes honesty is not always the best policy. That is why I find it necessary to hide behind my invisible mask – the one that can neither be seen nor felt. It is rather one of a psychological nature. Therefore, one can never tell if I am wearing my mask. I wear a self-imposed mask to not only hide from reality, but also as a tool to help find my identity.

In 1991 and at the age of nine I transferred from Saint Joseph’s Catholic School to a public Lincoln Community School in Bayonne, New Jersey. It was here where I was bullied and teased daily due to my excessive facial hair. Even though comments such as, “Are you a boy or a girl” hurt me a lot I never let my emotions show. Instead of crying, I put on my make believe smile and walked away. I didn’t want to give the bullies the satisfaction of knowing that they had hurt my feelings. However, once I arrived home from school I removed my mask and cried myself to sleep. I prayed for God to take me to a place where I could be happy and free from all the ridicule, but I guess God was too busy attending to other things at the time.

For the next three years I was subjected to constant harassing. This only threw me into a deeper state of depression. At times I contemplated suicide by hanging myself in the attic with a belt from a chair, but even failed on accomplishing that. All I wanted to do was disappear from the face of the Earth. I had no one to talk to, not even a family member. They had their own problems. My alcoholic father was always busy beating or stabbing my mother, while my older siblings usually ran away and slept over a friend’s house.

At the tender age of twelve I began stealing blackberry brandy from my dad’s liquor cabinet to help drown my sorrows. About two months later, I was introduced to marijuana by an older kid in school who promised it would make me feel better and it did. The marijuana and alcohol gave me the happiness that I was in desperate search of. But unfortunately this period of contentment was only temporary. Once the side effects wore off so did my invisible mask. I was no longer happy until I put that joint or bottle to my mouth.

Marijuana and alcohol became my best friend. I drank and smoked to cloud my mind from the world I lived in. I didn’t want to hear my classmates call me a man anymore, nor did I want to come home and see my mom bleeding with a knife stuck in her back again. I didn’t have to, as long as I was under the influence. For the next two years I continued to do what I did best – drink and smoke, while hoping that one day would come when all my problems would go away. But little did I know that my self-made invisible mask created by the drugs and alcohol only created more problems. I ended up getting arrested for robbery and a couple of assaults and suspended from school for excessive tardiness and absences as well as for possessing alcohol on school property. As a result, I was forbidden to graduate on stage.

During my high school years at Bayonne High, the non-stop bullying continued as well as my drug and alcohol usage. The students, mostly those I attended elementary school with, still were fascinated with my facial hair. They made sure they made a derogatory remark to me whenever they passed me in the hall. Each day, the intensity of the bullying increased, until the future of my high school education was decided by the following incident: I was in the bathroom smoking a cigarette and a former elementary classmate of mine came up to me and demanded, “If you don’t shave that moustache and beard I’m going to bring in a razor tomorrow and shave it for you.” At the moment all I could do was laugh. I was too high to get any words out of my mouth. “You think I’m joking. Come here tomorrow and see what happens,” she hollered.

I, still in a bit of a daze, and not knowing exactly what was going on, left school to get some fresh air. I walked towards the back of the building and sat on the green wooden bench overlooking Newark Bay. It was here where I began to sober up. I couldn’t believe what had become of my life. I was trying to get an education and couldn’t do so because I had students threatening me. Why didn’t they leave me alone? Why did my facial hair bother them? If they didn’t like it they didn’t need to look at me. Or better yet, why didn’t they put on their mask and pretend to like me or simply ignore me? I thought God created this world so everyone can learn to accept each other no matter what differences exist among us. Maybe if we followed the rules of our Creator then maybe there wouldn’t be bullying.

As of result of the bullying I had no other choice but to notify my mother. I couldn’t take the risk of going back to school, not knowing what this girl would do to me. After explaining everything to my mother we decided the best option was to drop out of high school. The day after the bathroom incident and at the age of sixteen I officially withdrew. I felt as if a huge boulder was lifted off my shoulders. I felt like a new person. I no longer needed to hide behind my mask in an attempt to cover up my pain. This was the new beginning of my life. This was also the day I promised myself to quit smoking and drinking in the hopes of becoming a productive, law-abiding citizen.

Since I was not attending school I decided to find a job. In approximately one month I started working full-time at Roth Harris Communications as a telephone interviewer. However, after being at this company for about three months, the employees, mostly the female ones, became obsessed with the hair on my face. The teasing and bullying that I left behind in school had reappeared. I began to sink into the deep, black hole that was all too familiar. I went back to wearing my drinking and smoking mask to help numb my emotional pain. On the outside I appeared to be happy, but deep down on the inside I was the complete opposite – a very lonely, depressed individual. I had become a fully functional alcoholic and drug addict. I was not only smoking and drinking before work but during and after work as well. I always had my orange juice bottle mixed with Smirnoff Vodka next to my phone. However, the vodka and marijuana wasn’t doing it for me anymore. The high I used to get was not as strong as it used to be. I needed something stronger that could instantly give me that “I’m on top of the world” feeling.

After speaking to a couple of people at work I found my new drug of choice – cocaine, which supplied me with the instant gratification that my mind and body craved. However, its high only lasted from five to about fifteen minutes. I soon found myself working overtime, cleaning the building in which I worked, to support my drug habit. My life, at the age of 20, continued to spiral out of control. I not only found myself having sexual relations with my drug supplier but also with his friends as well, in exchange for drugs and money. I was snorting anywhere from $500 to $700 worth of coke a day. I rarely ever slept or ate. Coke was my food. Coke was my life.

After suffering a near fatal overdose at my drug dealer’s house on my 21st birthday I decided it was time for a change. It was at the hospital when I finally began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There was hope for me. For the first time in my life I believed that there was a place for me in this world – a place that didn’t revolve around drug addicts and prostitutes. That was not the lifestyle I wanted to live. I wanted to shed my invisible mask and be true to myself and others. I wanted to live my own life, on my own terms. However, it was the sheer fear of bullying and rejection that kept a hold on me.

I felt that if I didn’t do anything about my facial hair that I would quickly resort back to my old ways, something I no longer wanted to be a part of. After calling numerous beauty salons to see what options they had available, I decided the most cost efficient and effective remedy to remove my facial hair was through waxing – a procedure in which hot, hard wax is spread onto the skin, then cooled, and pulled off in the opposite direction to remove unwanted hair from the root. Waxing, which lasts approximately 2 to 8 weeks, ranges from $7 to $100 depending upon the location and amount of hair to be removed. After the first treatment of waxing I felt like a brand new woman. I was able to go out and face the world with my head raised high. Since that day I have never looked back. I not only quit my job and doing drugs but also stopped hanging out with my drug buddies. Within three months I found a new job as a description writer in Jamesburg, NJ, and made new friends. I just wish I would’ve known about waxing sooner. Maybe it would’ve saved me from all the heartache and pain I had to deal with. But like the old cliché goes, “Whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”

Seven years later, I am proud to announce that I am still going strong and maintaining my sobriety. I work at the same company in Jamesburg and attend New Jersey City University. In May 2011 I will graduate with a degree in English writing. In September 2011, I will enroll into NJCU’s 12-month accelerated Nursing program. By September 2012, I will have my BSN degree in which I can begin my career and look towards building a brighter future.