The truth DOES hurt

The boy had to tell the truth.... not that he had not been telling it all along, but you must understand that there are some truths that are held closer to the chest than others, and only shared with those who deserve to hear them.

Those who are now privy to the boy's recently divulged information do not really deserve to hear it, because they did not really listen when the boy spoke...or if they did listen, they are not willing to act of their own accord rather than that of the upper echelons of power.
This particular truth had to be revealed to save the boy... this truth is one that has been carried many years, from a time of childhood skating pagents and flowers and jack-in-the-boxes and unwanted red jumpers and patent leather mary janes.... now the boy has had some of what he loves taken from him; he is in a position to watch it unfold before his eyes, and know that he is perfectly capable and qualified to do it as well, but now he is not allowed by virtue of his disclosure. All he wants is to be himself- to be respected for who he is and for his skill at what he does, not for what equipment he was born with...to be allowed to do his job and revel in the joy of it.
Nope...too much to ask. The boy does not fit anymore. He is too queer a shape to fit either of the boxes on the application..... M? Nope.... F? Uh uh.....
He knew that this might happen. He knew he might lose something precious by protecting himself.

The boy is angry, and sad. He wants to lash out. He wants to hide away. He wants to bury his face in a cashmere embrace and forget for a moment that all of this is happening.

Now the boy needs to plant his boots and flex his fists and stand up.

He is not alone, and for this he is grateful.

This is happening, and it is not right. What's worse is that this is probably not the only place it is happening right now.