“Alexander Winters?” The nurse called from the end of the corridor.

“I’ll see you soon honey,” Mom smiled, barely looking up from her magazine. Yes, the mighty Doctor Winters, Cardiothoracic Specialist extraordinaire was reading a fashion magazine in the doctor's waiting room like a regular mom doing regular Mom stuff.

I got up, walked across to the nurse, and followed her to the Doctor’s office. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t a little apprehensive about this appointment. I know it’s likely the closest challenge I’ll have in this precarious adventure of mine. It also might be the first time I have to fess up, gulp!

“Hi, Alex, how are we doing?” Doctor Harris asked as I plop down in the seat beside his desk.

“I’m good, I guess.”

Doctor Harris smiles and gives me a quick once-over with his eyes. “Your mother said you had a bit of food poisoning last week and she had some other concerns, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great,” I offer with a big happy, and totally authentic smile. “I even went horse riding at the weekend (Thank you Rick for that excuse). I’m honestly feeling all better now. It was just the fish I had for lunch that week.”

Harris nods in that knowing way Doctors do that already have the answers to the questions they’re asking. “Sometimes our bodies can just have a glitch like that without reason,” he offered fixing me with a more knowing look. “She did mention you might have been reluctant to go to gym class though, that you perhaps felt inferior to the other boys, perhaps developmentally?”

Ah, the main thrust of this appointment. Time to counter; “I’m fine Doctor, I promise. I was in the gym last week, I’m actually very happy with my body.”

Yes, I do like my body… because it’s mostly fixed bar one small issue.

“All the same, I’d like to take a look at you and check you over. Nothing major, just so we can be sure you’re running on all cylinders as it were. Let's call it checking under the hood eh?”

Ah, yes, tell the teen boy a car metaphor and he’ll get it; good work Doctor.

“Do we have to do this?” Hey, nobody ever said you couldn’t ask…

Doctor Harris raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not technically required. You could refuse, but I wouldn’t see why. I’m just trying to ensure that you’re healthy, Alex. You’re a growing teen, and it’s for your own good.”

Here we reach the big hinge point. Mom has put me in this position, but I need to get out of it in one piece. I don’t think I have a lot of options to avoid him finding out about me and if this goes right, it might help?

I cannot put into words the immobilizing fear of coming out to someone. It’s terrifying and it’s one thing I won’t ever forget for the rest of my life. I’m not stupid though, so I’m going to ensure I’m covered in case of shenanigans.

“You’re required by HIPPA to limit any medical information regarding my health to me because I’m sixteen right?”

Doctor Harris eyeballs me hard. “Yes, I am, why?”

This is it, the cash money moment where I tell a doctor the truth about me and hope for the best. I’ve read all the horror stories in the past of unsupportive physicians, ones that might try to tell my parents because I’m still a legal dependent even though I’m sixteen. It’s something I’ve been reluctant about because of the overriding pressure of parental control. I have to take a leap of faith.

“Doctor, I’m... uh, transgender.”

Harris’s eyebrows rise as it clicks. “I see…” he murmurs, surprised by my news before the penny drops. “I suppose I now see your reluctance.”

He hasn’t tried to sacrifice me for Sky Pixies yet, so there’s a chance he isn’t a hater. I sit up straight and pull my posture in. Now I’m behaving more like the real me, not the boy mask. So far, I’ve only let two people see Holly on purpose, now it’s three. “Yes Doctor, I know this might come as a surprise, but I hope you can understand both my reluctance to do gym class with boys and also my nerves regarding my examination.”

“I would like to still perform one, if I may, if you are to pursue any treatment regarding this it might be of benefit to you going forwards.”

Time for the sauce. “Uh, there might be a slight problem there.”

Harris eyes me suspiciously. His eyes flit across my general appearance and he sighs. “Let me guess, you’re already in treatment, and your parents don’t know?”

I purse my lips, “Somewhat right on both accounts.”

Harris looks irritated. “Are you telling me the s…d…child of a physician is going against best advice and self-medicating? You of all people should be aware of how dangerous that is?”

“I know that Doctor, I promise I do,” I admit feeling more than a little sheepish under his rightful ire. “You have to understand that I didn’t feel as though I had a choice. I reached a point of extreme desperation and I did my research. I sourced it from a safe place and I’ve been monitoring for issues as best I can. I cannot be certain my parents wouldn’t take action against my desires. It was do this and prevent a male puberty or it was a far darker outcome”

Doctor Harris turned his chair around to face me, unclipped his name badge, and tossed it onto his desk. “I’m not Doctor Harris right now, I’m Tony Harris; the guy who went to school with your Mom, the guy who’s seen you grow from diapers to dungarees. Off the record Alex, your mom isn’t that kind of person.”

“People often manage to surprise you,” I reply only slightly bitterly. “If you affect their lives and careers people will change their tune pretty quickly. If I disturb things I’m afraid I’ll get shipped off to a military school or something religious.”

“I know Veronica pretty well,” The doctor points out. “I don’t think she’d ever put her child through anything like that. How long have you been taking the drugs, and what exactly are you taking?”

My lip quirks, “A GNRH Hyperagonist by subcutaneous injection to suppress my puberty and Testosterone output and then supplemental Estrogen and Progesterone by pill to kickstart the puberty I was meant to have. I performed my research and I sourced everything from reliable places.”

Harris shakes his head and smiles slightly. “Like mother like daugh… wait, is it ok to say that?”

I smile, “Yeah, it is, and that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Harris smiles at me and I feel a little safer with him. “I don’t agree with the process but I can appreciate the why, Alex. If you insisted on proceeding, ordinarily I’d offer a bridging prescription and send you to an expert but I can’t prescribe you anything without it going on your insurance. That means your parents would find out. I can however randomly and without any explicable reason perform general blood panels once in a while to make sure you are a healthy growing teenager without any broader issues.”

I know what he’s suggesting and I’m glad for it. “I understand Doctor.”

Harris picks up his name badge and fastens it to his shirt again before giving me a pointed look. “Now, I think more than ever I need to perform that physical. Although I think I need to get a nurse to chaperone it, don’t I Miss Winters?”

God, that feels so unbelievably good to hear.

A few moments later I’m sitting behind a curtain on the exam table in Doctor Harris’s office. I’m wearing a gown that was provided before he left to go find and explain my situation to a nurse. Other than this thin paper garment, I am as naked as the day I was born. The idea of being nude in front of others has always bothered me; mostly because it was wrong, and also because I never liked my body. Now, I’m actually more nervous for two polar opposite reasons. That a man will see my breasts, and that a woman will see… well, the rest of me, and know I’m a cheap imitation.

I hear the door open beyond the curtain.

“Are you ready in there Alex?”

“As much as I ever will be,” I reply, my heart rate soaring to apocalyptic levels.

Harris and one of the practice nurses enter and she gives me a little smile. It’s a comforting smile, one intended to make me feel better as if she knows how terrified I am of this moment.

“I’m going to take some blood for Doctor Harris once we’re done here, ok sweetie?”

I nod, “Sure, not too bothered by needles, just nudity.”

Harris chuckles. “I think we all are, let’s get this over nice and quickly shall we? I don’t want to prolong this for you. Pop that off and stand up for me please.”

I nod and stand. I reach behind my back for the velcro closure and release it. For a moment, I hold the gown to my chest like a towel before swallowing and slowly removing it fully and placing it on the table. Doctor Harris looks surprised but suppresses it quickly. The nurse, her expression is unreadable but her eyes appear sad. I don’t know what that means.

Future Holly here; I’m going to be extremely clinical in this next paragraph because I don’t like remembering moments like these. To me, they remind me of the shame I felt during this time, the denial, the fear, and the disgust with my own body. My younger self hated this, it took her a long time to get past feeling wrong.

Doctor Harris examined the Sixteen-year-old patient who was assigned male at birth. The patient displayed strong female secondary sexual characteristics within general medians of female adolescent development. Measurements of the adolescent patient’s hips, shoulders, and height were taken. Skeletally, they were found to be within developmental medians for her age. The patient’s breasts were small but within Tanner stage four development which placed her slightly behind her expected median. The patient’s male genitalia were found to be underdeveloped, likely in part due to the use of GnRH Hyperagonists and supplemental Estrogen therapy. The patient was One hundred and nineteen pounds in weight and five foot six inches in height.

“You can get dressed Alex, then Nurse Campbell will take your blood ok?”

I slid my clothes back on quickly and gave myself a moment to get settled. I knew what had just happened was necessary, but I also hated every damn second of it. Moments like this proved just how weird and wrong I was, it wasn’t particularly enjoyable. “I’m dressed,” I mumble.

The curtain twitched and Nuse Campbell stepped inside with a tray for drawing blood. “You ok honey?”

I nod and look a the floor.

“For what it’s worth sweetheart, you’re very brave.”

I rolled up the sleeve of my sweater and presented my arm for vampirism. “It doesn't feel that way.”

“I’m sure things will get better honey, it won’t be this way forever.”

I smiled my thanks and lack of desire for a heartwarming discussion and allowed her to finish her work and depart.

“Well Alex,” Harris announced. “Pending bloodwork, you’re healthy. Officially I cannot condone this pathway, but if you are insistent I will provide periodic bloodwork to ensure your safety. From my examination, you appear healthy and normal for a growing girl, but I’m concerned about your male presentation. Do you expect to be able to maintain this for particularly long?”

“So, I might have been given my advice and anecdotes on how fast this stuff works by older patients,” I admit. My age might well be a factor there.”

“No shit,” Harris agreed with uncharacteristic bluntness. “Your desire to remain in secret and also follow this path will be difficult to reconcile. At your current rate, I’d expect you’ll need to confront this before the new year at the latest. Your chest is developing extremely quickly and you don’t exactly look much like a boy, Alex.”

“Ordinarily I’d be ecstatic,” I grin sarcastically. “You won’t tell my mother, right?”

Harris frowns, “Against my better judgment, I will not. That is your decision as my patient. My advice is to tell her, Alex. Veronica is a good woman and an excellent doctor. I full well know she supports people like you. I doubt she’d reject her own daughter.”

My heart does a happy little flip at the word daughter. It’s the second time I’ve heard it today and It’s more powerful than you can imagine.

“I’ll consider it,” I concede. “I don’t expect my timetable of college will hold much water.”

Harris stands and opens his office door for me. “If you can still present successfully as a male by the time you reach college, I’m a veterinarian.”

Back in the waiting room, Mom was surprisingly still reading her magazine. I had honestly expected her to be talking shop with any number of the staff she knew here.

“According to Doctor Harris, I’m not dead,” I offer as I arrive before her.

“I could have told you that,” she replied with a parental roll of the eyes. “Let’s get you off to school so I can get into work. I have a bypass this afternoon to prep for.”

“Never let it be said that my health came before the needs of the Cardiologically infirm.”

Mom walked past me and clipped me on the back of the head as she passed in a way that never actually hurt but showed me that she loved me despite my mouth. “School, gobby one.”

 

 

Getting to school late after an appointment had to be one of the highlights for a kid. You had empty corridors and a hall pass to be late. Honestly, you got to feel a little special. The reality loses a little glitz when you collect your missed homework from the receptionist when you sign in, however. My third class of the morning was German and I made it just in time for the bell, despite Doctor Harris’ best designs.

Class was a fitting distraction after my morning of medical merriment. Truth be told, I felt both relief and concern having shared the truth with Doctor Harris. A problem shared is a problem halved right? I’d ordinarily agree with you, except Harris affirmed something I had started to fear; that I won’t make it much longer in boymode.

Something else that has me quite perplexed is that my mother has yet to press me for details on my appointment; suspicious Mater, suspicious. She’s the one that had worries about my health and development. That she isn’t interested in finding out what we talked about, even casually makes me wonder if that was why she sent me at all.

Thankfully I have little time to focus on any of it at the moment because school waits for no woman. I’m back in class with a very rude awakening; German. If anyone ever asks you about the Dative tense in the German language, run away screaming. German grammar is some of the most irritatingly complex in the world.
What improved today’s lesson however was news of our upcoming field trip to the Fatherland itself. Yes, private school, international field trips, suck it losers.

“Right, I’ll need your consent forms by Friday at the latest and your passports sorted no later than November First.” Frau Whistler declared loudly, leaning on her desk at the front of the room. “We will fly out on December first and spend six days in Germany before flying home the following weekend. Full itinerary will be emailed to your parents.”

The bell rang, signifying the end of class and the mass migration towards lunch. I was still pondering how my overly complicated life would work with international travel when Paul appeared beside me. “Excited for the trip?”

“Uh, I guess,” I admit, dodging a large idiot shoving his way down the corridor. “I might need to update my passport.”

“How out of date is it?” he asks suspiciously.

“I was ten,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

“TSA will have a field day with you, although I’m pretty sure the only thing that changed since then is your hair,” he smirks.

“I grew taller, I reply defensively. “I was like five feet tall then at most.”

Paul pauses as we arrive at the door to the dining hall and gives me a deeply condescending look. “Sure you did Rapunzell, sure you did.”

I’d totally kick him in the shin if he wasn’t already a cripple.

“Got here in the end huh?” Rick grins as I sit a the table.

“Doctor.” I offer with an eye roll. I’m not letting on the why, not to him.

“Are you having your period early?” Brandon sneers vindictively. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

I bite my tongue and ignore him. His sole goal this year appears to be bothering me and I don’t want to play his little game. Well, the joke’s on him this time; I want a period so the joke doesn’t hurt me for the reason he thinks it does. Sadly, it hurts because I want one!

He does appear to be in particularly rare form today, much to my irritation. He proceeds to make cracks against me at every opportunity he can. I know at least I have an ally in Rick now, so anything Darth Dipshit manages won’t ever be more than just names. The funniest part is that his entire show isn’t designed to upset me, it's actually designed to play towards the rest of the table. Brandon’s entire routine is for their benefit, as though he needs to prove how superior he is to a bunch of younger boys. I’m pretty sure psychiatrists could make several determinations from that.

Lunch was eaten and I kept my head down. To tell the truth, I was still quite focused on my conversations with Doctor Harris. I was both relieved and scared about what had happened that morning. A professional knew about me and seemingly accepted me. I was on the first step of the path. More importantly, I had bloodwork, which made me feel a lot better about self-medicating my hormone regime.

Present Day Holly: The whole subject of self-medicating hormone therapy is one thing I would like to address if I may, dear reader. I know that by writing this account of my journey, I sound like a proponent of taking matters into my own hands. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth; as a teen, and especially now as an adult and a medical professional, I cannot stress how dangerous this is. At the time of starting, I was a scared and suicidal teenager who had run out of options. What I did was not a whim or done without copious research and care. It was however still monumentally dangerous. I’d be a hypocrite to say never do it, but I would suggest it be a last choice.

Now that my public service announcement is over we can get back to the story… wherever you were… oh yes, young me had just had her first major coming out moment.

Where was I? Oh yes, after lunch I did something I never thought I’d do. I was chatting to Rick about some game as we left the dining hall and inadvertently followed him all the way over to the Jock’s area of the common room. I sat down and continued the conversation before I realized other members of the team had arrived and joined us.

“I should probably go,” I admit a little sheepishly, realizing just where I was and how far it was from my own social strata.

“Ah fuck it, it’s not a law or something,” he shrugs. “Anyway, we like you more than Face.”

“Huh?” the linebacker blurted, hearing his name.

“Nothing dude,” Rick grinned, smirking at me. “Go back to your cartoons.”

“So what’s the thing with that level anyway?” Marco, one of the wirey Running Backs asked. “I keep getting stuck on the bridge jump.”

I sucked my teeth and shook my head sadly. “I can’t tell you all the secrets, but it does involve a power-up.”

“What is the faggot doing here?” Brandon declares loudly, drawing our attention to his arrival. “He’s not on the team, he should be with the other losers”

“We like him,” RJ shrugged at the Offensive Lineman, “and he’s not a douche.”

Brandon blusters and storms off towards the doors without another word.

“Fuck that guy,” Rick mutters. “I don’t even know why coach lets him play.”

“Because of daddy’s donations,” Carson Orlinski the Quarterback offers. “Bro thinks he’s god because his pops throws money at this place. I hate asshats like him.”

Watching these guys making fun of Brandon is quite fulfilling in a surreal way. That I’m not the target of the popular kid's ire is a surreal experience for me. It’s still not quite as strange as being privy to their distaste of one of their supposed own is, however.

I’ve never liked Brandon Michaels, and it had nothing to do with his father’s wealth. He’s a snobbish bully who looks down on others and treats people like they owe him one. I might be heterosexual and he might be conventionally attractive as far as boys go, but it’s as clear as day that he has an ugly spirit. Do not want, no ma’am!

Do I have a type? I suppose it’s entirely possible that I do. My perspective is clouded by my proximity to boys, but there are certainly features and facets to the male of the species that draw my attention. Muscles, facial hair, strong jaws; something about masculine strength really draws me in. It’s ironic that I’m doing my best to run away from masculinity while at the same time, my body finds it so alluring.

“Alex, do you have brain damage?”

“Huh?”

My mind focuses and I finally notice my brother, Rob, “What?”

He looks at me like I’m insane. “You were just staring at the wall with a weird smile on your face you fucking psycho.”

Oh damn, I think I was enjoying that thought far too much.

“Nothing,” I grin. “Just thinking about something.”

He shakes his head and goes to head slap me but I duck like a ninja. You have to remember I have sixteen years of practice of being the youngest child. My avoidance gets me a rude hand gesture in response and he receives one petulant stuck-out tongue; a fair trade in my book.

“Brothers are so annoying sometimes, you want one?” I ask Rick as sibling two wanders off to continue his discussion with his buds.

Rick seems to ponder the question for a moment. “I dunno, I find horses are far easier to deal with than people. An older sister was enough for me.”

“Siblings have yet to dunk me in creeks.”

Rick smiles and he chuckles softly as he remembers. “I said I find horses easier to deal with, not that you did. Anyway wasn’t that your fault?”

 

 

Once again after the conclusion of school, I went home with Meg and Kara. I’m pretty sure Gary is convinced I'm sleeping with one or both of his sisters, but he’s giving us a wide berth so I’m fine with that state of affairs.

We’re up in Kara’s room listening to music and finishing our homework. We’ve been chatting about anything and everything and it has become one of the parts of the day I look forward to the most now. When I’m with them, I feel all girl; things just feel right. We chat, we gossip and we share our concerns and feelings with each other. I’m learning so much about the girl world from them, and conversely, I’m coming to realize just how right it is for me there.

When you’re trans, it’s only natural to have some doubt. People will say they never had any, that they knew from age four with absolute certainty; 100% female, male, rocking chair, doesn’t matter. They have zero doubt. Why? Clout.

Trans people like many others love to outdo each other. It’s the gender equivalent of ‘Keeping Up With The Joneses’. They transitioned sooner, they knew they were trans sooner. It’s even found in who’s more conventionally attractive or got bigger boobs faster. Admittedly cis girls do the last two just as often. Even ‘my trauma is more traumatic than your trauma’ is a points competition.

Where was I? Oh, yes; doubt. It’s natural to have some doubt, in fact, it’s human and reasonable. It doesn’t mean you are undecided or uncertain about a given subject. Just that your brain wanted to run a few ‘what if’ scenarios to make sure it was comfortable. Typically it all comes up aces and for me, I was already more than convinced I was female and wanted to spend the rest of my days that way.

In this case, it was that girl time with Meg and Kara that convinced me beyond any reasonable doubt that I belonged on this side of the fence. These were my girls; my ride-or-die best friends. I didn’t need to ask to know they felt the same way about me. There were no secrets anymore between us.

“I think I have a problem,” I admit, closing my textbook.

“Yup, you certainly have a problem,” Meg agrees. “Boy takes you out riding with him and comes to your rescue when you go full damsel? If he doesn’t know you’re really a girl, he’s probably getting really confused right about now.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I cringe. “I’ve started noticing little things about him that I like and I caught myself thinking about his muscles today after lunch. I nearly drooled on the poor guy. I’m trying not to crush, I really am.”

“How do you think he feels?” Kara asks while she cleans the polish off my toes that she had been testing.

I shrug, “It’s hard to tell, but I’m pretty convinced he’s confused. Every now and then I catch him watching me, or giving me these weird looks that he snaps out of a few moments later. I’m worried that I’m letting him see too much of Holly, and that’s confusing him.”

“I specifically recall saying that you would give that boy an identity crisis,” Megan reminds me, “those exact words.”

“Yeah yeah,” I groan, burying my face in a pillow. “I’m terrible at this, ok?”

“Maybe you can have a joint wedding when Meg finally snags Rob eh?” Kara giggles, artfully dodging the plushie-shaped missile that her sister had unleashed.

Oh god, weddings. Images of me as a bride in a beautiful white dress. Rick in a tuxedo looking so freaking handsome that I might die. I can see it now, out on the pasture in front of the ranch house with a white archway, flowers, and soft classical music. My dress blowing in the breeze as I walk up the Isle so slowly… after the wedding, a first dance, a hotel room…

I snap back to reality as I feel a poke in my ribs and come face to face with a grinning Megan.

“Is that the look you had when you drooled on him?”

“Screw you.”

 

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