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Wear a hat so you can't see my hair

Summary:

He didn’t know what was going on. He knew the rules. He knew that his parents weren’t ready, that’s why they couldn’t call him Tyler, that’s why they still called him a girl, that’s why he couldn’t cut his hair. He had to be ‘patient with them’. But it seemed that his body was rejecting the rules. That the pulling had become a symptom. And it wasn’t stopping.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

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Everyday Tyler would hide it. He’d hide his name around his parents, he’d hide his hair in public, he’d hide his chest under layers. He’d hide everything the best he could, from people that shouldn’t see certain things. But he couldn’t hide these things from himself.

The pulling had begun by accident. It started as stress, unconsciously, tug tug tug. He’d pull out long strands of dull chocolate hair. A quick twist and pull. Over and over. His parents got used to seeing him in hats.

“You’re not much of a hat person.” They’d say. Obviously meant to come off as teasing, so Tyler would laugh it off, and carry on with his beanies. He didn’t have another choice. It started to become noticeable. He couldn’t hide it with ponytails, patches of obviously thinning hair were becoming apparent.

There’s still too much.

He didn’t know what was going on. He knew the rules. He knew that his parents weren’t ready, that’s why they couldn’t call him Tyler, that’s why they still called him a girl, that’s why he couldn’t cut his hair. He had to be ‘patient with them’. But it seemed that his body was rejecting the rules. That the pulling had become a symptom. And it wasn’t stopping.

Too much hair.

Tyler took off his hat, pulling his hair out of the elastic. His fingertip lightly traced hair that was now growing back from what was once a small bald patch. It felt spiky, but so so soft. It felt nice. It felt right.

-

His therapist said he needed to go to a support group. Somewhere he could be supported by “like-minded” people.

“There’s one downtown, it’s got a walk-in program every Friday night.” She said with sympathetic eyes. “Somewhere you can freely express yourself as a boy”

But I am a boy. He wanted to say.

This isn’t my choice.

He bused across town but as soon as he made his way to the entrance he froze. Getting ready to walk back to the bus stop, he walked right into a sturdy figure with punctured ears and an apologetic smile.

“Are you going inside?” The gentle boy asked.

I am now. Tyler settled for a nervous nod of the head. He had the door opened for him as he stepped inside the building.

That night was the first time he’d said his name out loud instead of online.

The gentle boy’s name was Josh. He had a smooth face with a tender smile. Kind eyes and dark fluffy hair. The group respected Tyler’s identity. Josh respected his identity.

They rode the bus home together.

-

“She’s worrying me.” He heard his Mom whisper from downstairs. “I thought this pretending to be a boy thing was supposed to help.”

Tyler rolled over, sinking his head deeper into the pillow in an attempt to muffle his crying.

A quick twist and pull. Over and over.

-

Tyler collected all the strands of hair from his pillow when he woke up, tossing them into the garbage bin. He started stuffing tissues on top of the bin to hide the evidence.

-

He started looking forward to Friday nights more than anything. Friday nights got him through the week, got him through being misgendered, having his birth name being engraved into him as a painful reminder. When he walked into the building he immediately scanned the room for Josh.

He was met by a pair of soft eyes full of cinnamon.

When they spoke they would sit close to each other. When he’d make Josh laugh, his eyes would squint and his hand would touch Tyler’s knee. He began to crave the closeness, he could feel how hollow he was without it. So on the bus ride home they sat a little closer, not moving when their hands pressed against each other.

-

“Hey hun, no hats at the dinner table tonight, okay?” Tyler’s mom gave a warning before dinner. The words made his stomach turn. He felt sick. He ran up to the bathroom, letting his lunch run out of his chapped lips.

He had a can of ginger ale for dinner, with a bucket next to his bed.

-

Josh gave Tyler his phone number.

Josh: You looked really handsome tonight.

He was all happy smiles and phone screens the rest of the night.

-

Tyler started eating dinner alone. Something would always “come up” like a really big test he has to study for, or a project that’s due the next day, or an assignment he has to hand in online within the next hour.

He was running out of excuses.

At least he got to wear his hat.

-

Tyler’s shower was interrupted when he noticed the drain was clogged. He got out a rubber glove and started pulling out the long strands of hair piled up at the bottom of the tub, caught up in the drain.

He felt disgusting.

On his hands and knees, with soapy hair, he succumbed to the pulling in his chest and started to cry. The sobs started choking up in his chest, trying to stay quiet. He couldn’t breathe.

Quickly, he took the glove off and started the shower up again. Sitting down at the base of the tub, covered in noisy droplets of water, he let himself sob. He was wretched, with each noise that’d escape his mouth, he took in a deep breath. The choking stopped. As if someone was pulling long strands out of his throat with every muffled scream, slowly allowing him to finally breathe again.

After collecting himself and drying off, he stood face to face with the foggy mirror, wiping away just enough to expose his face. Nothing below. No, never below.

He stared at himself, splotchy faced with bloodshot eyes and swollen lips. Turning his head to look at his hair for the first time in a week, his hand slapped up to his mouth.

What did you do?

He had a bald patch growing around the bottom of his head.

Tell someone you idiot.

The sobbing started again.

Tell your therapist.

He fell to his knees, the towel unraveling around his torso. He wants to scream, he wants to slam his head against the wall until he falls asleep. But instead he sat there naked and crying, covering his face in the towel, shivering from the cold tile against his still damp skin.

His hand went up and grazed against the small hairs growing back.

It was comforting. It was spiky, but nice and soft. It felt nice. It felt right.

-

Josh texts him about the new show he’s been watching.

Tyler scratches the back of his head, trying not to become too alarmed when he see’s blood under his fingernails.

-

Tyler had started seeing Josh outside of the group. They’d go on walks together and just talk and talk. Most of the time they’d just stay at Josh’s place and watch tv or play video games. Tyler would always beat him at mario kart, and Josh would always throw pillows at him.

It was a weird feeling at first, hearing an adult use Tyler’s real name. It felt so surreal having a sense of validation from an adult figure. Sure he got it from the group, and he got it from his therapist, but that’s what they were supposed to do. Josh’s parents didn’t have to be nice to him. But they were.

After a few weeks, Tyler coming over had become habitual. One night while helping clean up the dishes, Josh’s mom pulled him aside.

“I know things are hard for you at home,” She started with sympathetic eyes. “And I hope you know, you have a home here. If anything ever happens you just let Bill or I know.” He tried his best not to but he couldn’t help the tears that began to pour over.

-

“You’re never home anymore.” Was the first thing his mom said when he got back home. “Where do you always go to?”

A quick twist and pull. Over and over.

“I told you, my friend Josh’s.”

“I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with this boy so much.” She says with furrowed eyebrows, preoccupied with the pot she’s stirring over the stove.

“Why?”

“Do I really have to explain myself to you?” She finally looks up.

She thinks you'll get pregnant dumbass.

“It’s fine Mom,” Tyler bites the inside of his mouth, trying to keep calm. “He’s gay.”

Her eyes narrow, but it seems suffice.

See? You’re not a real boy.

He walks up to his bedroom.

If you were, Josh would like you. But he doesn’t cause he only likes guys.

He slowly closes the door shut.

Real guys.

A quick twist and pull. Over and over.

-

Tyler spends the night doing homework.

His phone lights up with Josh’s contact. He smiles.

-

“How’ve things been with your Mom?” Tyler flinches, trying to make it out to be a reaction to the tight turn he’s making in the game.

“She’s been,” He moves his shoulder against the back of his head to scratch. “Nosey.”

“About what?” Josh asks, moving his eyes from Tyler to the screen.

Tyler finished in first place. “About me.” He placed his controller down in front of him, not as excited as usual. “About you.”

“About me?” Josh asked, finally finishing his lap.

“‘Why are you never home? Is Josh your family now?’ Kind of stuff.” Tyler scratches the back of his head.

“Well, at least she thinks of me as family.” He jokes. Josh is on cue, already turning off Mario Kart and turning on Netflix. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Whatever’s good.” Josh puts on the last x files episode they were watching.

“I’m all for character development, but this is so frustrating sometimes.” Tyler finally speaks up.

“What?” Josh inquires, scooching closer to Tyler on the couch.

“Scully and Mulder obviously care about each other, and yet it’s taking them forever to come to terms with it.” Tyler laughs at his own enthusiasm. He turns to see Josh’s smile fade as he watches Tyler scratch the back of his head again.

“Is something wrong?” Josh asks gently.

Tyler quickly puts his hand back down, squeezed under his lap.

Josh is endlessly patient with him. Not once has he asked Tyler why he wears hats all the time, and he’s always respectful and never pry’s even when he knows something is wrong. It makes Tyler feel bad for not telling him sometimes, especially when he says “Nothing, just a bit itchy.”

Josh looked right through him, Tyler hates lying. Knowing that there are small scabs forming at the lower half of his head and he can’t help but scratch.

Josh’s gaze lingers a little longer than usual, as if he’s examining Tyler’s face. But then he gets distracted at Tyler’s lips, and Tyler can feel his face visibly grow red as his stomach twists. Josh’s face moves back to the tv. Tyler is thankful for the dim lighting in Josh’s basement because his face is still painfully red.

Tyler can feel himself start to spiral in his emotions. At all the lingering touches, and the butterflies threatening to eat his stomach whole. All the prolonged stares and Josh making Tyler’s smile spread so wide it could rip his face. The weight of this silence is crushing him, and all Tyler wants to do is pull his hair out.

Instead he croaks out a small “Josh.”

Josh pauses the episode, and turns to look at the other boy.

Tyler feels his throat start to close up. “Do you-” Tyler catches his breath. He wants to burst into tears. “Am I-” Josh cups the side of his face, stroking his thumb across his cheek. That’s when the tears spill over.

“Hey, listen to me.” He whispers, pushing his head back up gently, making him look at him. “You’re beautiful Tyler Joseph.” He presses his lips lightly against his cheek, tasting nothing but salt and soft skin.

Tyler is threatening to spill over, feeling the butterflies turn into firecrackers, popping their way straight up to his arms. His face collapses into the older boy's shoulder, letting his back be rubbed and fall apart like jello. He embraces the moment, breathes it in, and composes himself. He meets Josh’s eyes once more.

“Can you do that again?” Tyler asks.

“Kiss you?” He asks, leaning in and presses another peck on his cheek.

“Yes.”

“On the lips?” He leans in, inches apart from Tyler’s mouth. He nods desperately.

Josh closes the gap. Tyler doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just knows he needs this. He feels awkward and too self-aware, so he just lets Josh kiss him. Soft, soft, soft, until his own mouth starts to mimic the motions. He tests the waters to discover he actually likes it. A lot. Getting lost in his lips, Tyler brings his fingers up, lightly tracing the other boy’s neck. Josh let’s go of Tyler’s cheek and pulls back slightly.

“Can I kiss your neck?”

“Yes.”

Josh places soft open mouthed kisses along his neck, leading up to his jaw. Tyler sighs at the contact. “You like this?” Tyler nods. “Is this okay?” He nods again, jaw going slack.

“I’ve never kissed anyone.” Tyler says ashamed.

“That’s okay,” Josh goes back to his mouth. “You’re doing great. We’ll go slow.” And they do. Slow and soft, Tyler becomes putty in Josh’s hands. Getting lost in the motion, lost in the movement of it all, Josh’s hand reaches up to Tyler’s hat. He doesn’t mean too, but in the motion of running his hand down, Tyler feels his hat start to slide off.

Tyler jumps away in panic, readjusting it on his head.

“Oh sh-” Josh swallows. “I’m so sorry Tyler, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay- I just, I have to-” Tyler freezes.

Ugly.

“I have to leave.” He backs away into the corner of the couch.

“Tyler, you’re okay, you’re safe. We can stop.”

Disgusting.

“No, no, no, I’m gross, I’m gross,” Tyler whispers in a harsh tone, not even directed at Josh. He feels the need to pull his hair but then Josh would see. He can’t see. Nobody can see. “Nobody can see. I can’t show you Josh”

“I don’t have to see, it’s okay.” Tyler meets his eyes. “You’re okay.” For the second time that night, he burst into tears, letting Josh hold him through the wreck of emotions.

-

Somewhere after the crying, the cuddling, and the laughing, they had fallen asleep on the couch. Tyler woke up in a state of panic. Squeezing his way out of Josh’s grip, he went to the bathroom. It was too hot. Too much.

His hat had fallen off while they were asleep. It was on the ground somewhere out there in the darkness. He stared at his reflection again, looking at the long strands he despised.

He takes his hand and grabs a fistful. His first instinct is to rip it out but that wouldn’t work. All he can think about is how it needs to be gone gone gone. He searches the bathroom cupboards. Josh spends most of his time down here, he must have something.

He finds a shaver. Hastily he plugs it into the wall. He sinks to his knees. Without thinking, gone gone gone. He moves it right down the middle. A clump piles next to him. He moves it down the side.

Gone gone gone.

He feels like giant weights are crumbling down his shoulders. Feeling lighter and lighter as the hair falls. He runs his hand through his now buzzed hair. It’s all gone.

There’s a light knocking at the door. “Tyler?” Josh’s tone is worried and groggy.

He turns off the razor, the buzzing noise is gone. The door opens, tears begin to build up in Tyler’s eyes. But not the tears he was expecting, not the tears Josh was expecting either.

“I did it.” Tyler spoke gently.

“Can I touch it?” Josh asked with sleepy eyes. Tyler nodded hesitantly. It felt even nicer having somebody else touch it. “Really nice Tyler,” His smile was genuine. “Do you like it?”

It was as if Josh had known. That Josh knew Tyler’s hair was a burden for him. He expected some kind of screaming, or scolding, or ‘Get out of my house!’ but he was just a calloused hand helping Tyler stand up from the bathroom floor. This was the first good look he had of his hair. He turned to look at the side, all while running his hand through the short layer still atop his head.

It felt spiky, but so so soft.

“It feels nice.” Tyler finally spoke. “It feels right.”

-

When Tyler went home he wore his hat. When he was asked to take it off, he did. His Mom yelled, his brothers and sister giving him worried expressions. But more so because of their Mom, not his hair.

He felt supported.

-

Everybody at the group was very excited to see Tyler without a hat for the first time. Luckily they didn’t ask too many questions. People were more focused on the fact that he and Josh were holding hands.

-

He tells his therapist about what happened. He starts using stress toys. The hair pulling gets better. After a few more months, a few new lotions, and a few more buzz cuts, the damage to the lower half of his head starts to heal. No more scabs, a lot more hair.

-

Tyler doesn’t hate hair anymore. In fact he kind of likes it. He’s been so good to his hair, he even has a tuff growing in the front. Josh calls it cute, he says it looks like a duck tail.

He likes having Josh run his hand through his hair when they kiss. It’s gentle and calming. And he jumped for joy when Josh asked him to help him dye his hair. Tyler was going to miss his brown locks but he was so excited to see Josh with a full set of blue hair.

It was messy and got over the bathroom tiles but neither of them were mad. Tyler was just happy they didn’t feel as cold as they used to.

Notes:

Note: This was written from how I felt when I had long hair. I'd pull at the back of it a lot and break down wanting to shave my head. However I have not been diagnosed with trich, so I'm sorry if this is an inaccurate portrayal.
Also sorry if there are spelling errors, this was written in a day 'cause I hate exams and I love trans fics, but there aren't a lot out there so I tried to write another one. Feedback is always appreciated!
(I have never written something this long in such a short period of time so I'm sorry if it didn't make a lot of sense.)