Acceptance. It’s an important word. I know, because it’s what I’ve needed most over the past two or so years.

When my brother originally told me that he thought that he might be gender fluid, I tried my best to help him, at the time he told me to still call him Andrew, and that he would dress male one day and female the next. I would message him every day, make sure that he was okay, I thought I could help because of my own transition.

He progressed to see a psychiatrist, the same as I had to do, in order to be referred to the gender clinic. However, because of his desire to be genderfluid, and other factors, they told him that they couldn’t refer him.

My brother then told me that he was now Nina, he told my mum that Andrew was dead.

There have been times where I wanted to blurt out that my old self was dead, especially to my dad, who took longer to come around to the idea. My mum had been through a lot, from her point of view, she has lost two children, but also gained two. Although I’ve tried to explain to her that I am still the same person, my now sister, took a different approach.

So when she told me she had bought oestrogen online, I became concerned, I had looked into it myself, and it seemed too good to be true. After looking into the website she ordered off, I became concerned as it didn’t seem legit. It looked as if any 13 year old could have made it via HTML format in notepad. I told my mum, because I was scared, scared that something would go wrong. She’d only been thinking she was transgender for a few weeks, to my knowledge, and the doctor had said no for a reason.

To be completely honest, I was also jealous. Jealous that I had been waiting for nearly 2 years for hormones, and yet here my sister was, getting them straight away. I know that was partly the reason I was upset, but I was also worried.

Our concern caused arguments, Nina thought we were interfering, that we didn’t support her. But I do, I’ve always supported her, when we were kids, and still now. We got into an argument because she was claiming that I hadn’t supported her at all, she denied that I had messaged her every day. So I sent an email, explaining that she hadn’t been supportive of me, how she never asked about my doctor’s appointments. Over the last few weeks, my sister has told me that I can’t handle being a man.

What she doesn’t understand is that I accept her for being Nina, I just don’t accept how she has treated me these last few weeks.

A few days ago, my mum was taken to hospital in an ambulance because she couldn’t speak or see or walk properly. She only has me and my sister, so I rang her and told her that mum was in the hospital. Nina never came, she said to say if I needed anything, but when I asked her to come see our mum, that the doctors though she’d had a stroke and a lesion on the brain, she told me to get off my high horse. I sat in the waiting room for what seemed like an eternity, by myself, I rang my dad, who’s split from my mum, who didn’t come. I rang Nina, who’s response was “oh Jesus” and then never came, never even rang my mum when she was released from the hospital. Bearing in mind that my sister is 23 and I am 19 and that she lives a 20-minute train ride away from the hospital and a 30-minute train ride from our home, which costs £8.50 for a return.

Nina sends me a text asking if I still want to have anything to do with her…

“yes/no”

like she’s eight years old and sending me a note in class asking if I want to be her friend. I explain how I had no one in the hospital, how alone I felt, how I don’t understand why she’s doing this, to which she replies…

“yes/no”

Every part of me wants to shout and get angry because I’m hurt. But instead, when she tries to claim I don’t want to know her, I say that I would never turn my back on her, that I’ll always be at the end of the phone. I get no reply. I can’t count how many times I haven’t gotten a reply from her.

The truth, I feel heartbroken. When I was a kid, I used to look up to my big brother, I used to think he was a genius, and tall and brave. We’d listened at the door together when our parents were arguing, we stuck together when our brother left home. When my mum had brain surgery, I used to run around with a hairbrush singing Tina Turner to cheer him up. We used to play CSItogether, and go to McDonald’s and order the same thing, pretending to be twins. I’m holding on to that. I loved my big brother, and I’ll love my big sister the same, but I can’t accept the way she’s just forgotten about me, because no matter what happens, I believe that you don’t turn your back on family. But I think her back has already turned.

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