"God, this should not be this hard," I complain as I sit in front of my dresser, staring at my anxious (but impeccably made-up) reflection.

"You've taken bigger steps that this before, much bigger steps," Sarah reminds me, wrapping her arms around my shaking body. And she's right- I have.

Ever since coming out to my parents two weeks ago I've been practically shouting my new gender from the rooftops. My Facebook profile page has been suitably altered with photos of Nikki taking pride of place and photos of Nick being consigned to history. My friends were... Shocked, to say the least. There was a lot of teasing- some of it quite unpleasant, at first- but once it became clear that I was being deadly serious I began receiving near-universal support (Sarah threatening to kick ass helped, too!). Yes, I lost a few friends as a result of coming out. But frankly, anybody who can't accept me for who I truly am doesn't deserve to call themselves my friend. A lot of people have helped out by sending me links to transgender help pages and interviews with famous TG people, like Jamie-Lee Burke.

My bedroom's changed dramatically- it's now painted in a warm fuchsia colour, with additional wardrobe and drawer space for clothes, and a large dressing table on which I can do my make-up every morning (dad got that first and assembled it the same day, saying he didn't want to have to wait to use the bathroom!). I've been adding clothes and cosmetics too, but only on an as-needed basis. The black denim skirt and pink tank top I'm wearing now were part of my original 'collection' brought from Sarah's house, as is the dark nail polish on all twenty of my nails.

Obviously, I've been diligently following my hormone replacement schedule. I've been told not to expect instant results- it's not a simple case of 'if you could take a pill tomorrow that turns you into a girl', but by the time I start college in September I should start to see subtle changes in my body, changes that are taking agonisingly long to make themselves known.

But fortunately, through all of this upheaval, I still have my parents. Every day, the parent-daughter relationship comes more and more naturally to all three of us. Even though the summer's getting hotter with every day that passes, I'm still getting told off every time I try to go outside in a skirt or shorts that dad deems to short, and mum's told me off for excessive make-up on more than one occasion- but then again, she's asked me for make-up tips more than once, too!

Most importantly of all, however, I still have Sarah. She is truly my rock, and whilst our sexual activities have, if anything, dwindled, we're spending more and more time together, especially over our three-month summer holiday. Sarah and Beverly are off abroad on holiday again this year- a week in Greece this time- but fortunately it's not until the end of July, giving me plenty of 'Sarah time' until we're separated for that week.

"Nikki!" Dad calls from downstairs, startling me and sending my nerves into overdrive.

"Oh god," I whimper, sniffing back tears.

"Remember!" Sarah says, cradling my head in her hands. "You are Nicola Thomas. The law says so. Your doctors say so. Your parents say so, I say so, and most importantly of all, YOU say so. So go down there, hold your head high and force them to recognise you as such!" Still shaking with nerves, I nod and slowly descend the stairs into the living room, where my parents, and more notably, THEIR parents are all waiting for me.

"Hi nanna, granddad," I say nervously, waving at the four pensioners sat in my living room.

"No," granddad Steven- my father's father- growls angrily. "I'm not taking this! Come on Irene, we're leaving!" Before I can say a word in protest, the elderly couple storm out of the house, clamming the front door and not even acknowledging me with a backward glance as they do so. Devastated, I turn to my two remaining grandparents, desperate for their approval.

"Nanna Jean?" I ask, my terror apparent in my voice. "Granddad Bill?" Much to my dismay, my grandfather simply shakes his head and look away, the sight of me clearly so offensive that it's causing him actual pain.

"Nick," nanna says dejectedly, "why have you done this to yourself?"

"It- it's who I really am," I explain.

"But you were such a handsome young boy," nanna complains, seemingly unable or unwilling to consider my feelings. "Won't you just stop this all and turn back into a boy?" With tears in my eyes, I shake my head.

"I'm not a boy," I whimper. "I'm a girl." Granddad Bill- clearly badly hurt by my decision- simply shakes his head again and stands up, deliberately directing his gaze away from me.

"I think we should leave too," he says, taking his wife's hand and leaving the house, though less dramatically than my other grandparents had. Stunned, I stand in the middle of the living room, my heart reeling from the rejection.

"Nikki," mum says comfortingly, wrapping me in a tight, motherly hug and allowing me to bawl my eyes out into her shoulder.

"Sarah!" Dad yells. "Get down here!" Almost instantly, my girlfriend is by my side, leading me to the sofa and holding me tight, not letting go until the pain subsides...

Thirty minutes pass, and I don't move from my seat on the sofa. I've stopped crying, but my perfect girl's life has hit its first major snag, and it feels like I've been hit by a wrecking ball.

"Am- am I really that-" I ask, my voice still quivering and interrupted with sobs.

"NO!" Sarah says angrily, cutting me off before I can finish my sentence.

"Unless you were going to say 'am I really that beautiful and wonderful', then the answer is no," mum says in agreement.

"They'll come round," dad reassures me. "This is a lot for them to take in but they're not idiots, they're not completely shut off from the world and they know that people like- people in your-" Dad stutters, trying to find a way to finish his sentence that won't cause me undue offence.

"What your dad's trying to say is that you are a perfectly normal girl," mum says, even though I know she's not 100% sincere with what she's saying.

"We all know I'm not," I whisper. "But I appreciate what you're trying to say."

"'Trying' being the operative word," dad jokes, placing a loving arm around me. "I've got used to the idea of having a daughter. And you know what? I love having a daughter. And they'll grow to love having a granddaughter. It just probably came as too big a shock for them to take in in one go."

"I think someone could use some pampering to cheer herself up," mum says with a smile. "Didn't you say that you had plans with Sarah today?"

"It's nothing we can't put off, if you're not feeling up to it," Sarah says softly, linking her fingers with mine.

"No," I say defiantly. "You know what? Some pampering sounds really, really good right now." Sarah grins and gives me a big, tight hug, cheekily playing with my bra strap out of sight of my parents!

An hour later, I'm sat on a reclining chair in a sterile room, anxiously awaiting my 'treatment'. Sarah's sat beside my chair, holding my hand supportively.

"You will feel a short, sharp pain," the man who'll be conducting my 'treatment' explains. "It won't last long." I nod as the man rubs an antiseptic swab over my earlobe, then positions his scary-looking contraption over the body part and squeezes it shut. I'm slightly startled by the sensation of the sharp metal entering my body, but once it's in place it begins to feel normal, even welcome. Within 30 seconds my other earlobe receives the same treatment, and I've given a mirror to inspect the new gold studs in my ears.

"You may experience some bleeding," the piercer explains. "It'll stop within a few days. If it persists, consult a doctor, but I highly doubt you have any problems."

"Cool," I say, still grinning widely at my earrings.

"Now, the other thing we discussed?" Sarah asks, smiling wickedly and forcibly taking my place in the chair!

"If you're 100% sure," the piercer advises, at which Sarah nods eagerly, lifting her top. Less than a minute later, my girlfriend has a gold stud poking through the top of her navel!

"I've got enough money for you if you want one too," Sarah tells me with a coy smile. I hesitate a little- it's one things to get my ears pierced, but this could get me in a LOT of trouble... Then again, I am sixteen, legally I can choose what I do with my body...

I mirror Sarah's devilish grin and playfully shove her out of the chair, sitting down and lifting my top. Within seconds, the piercer has swabbed my navel with his antiseptic wipe and pushed a brand-new sterile needle through it before fitting it with a gold stud of its very own.

"Aww, you are the best girlfriend ever!" Sarah says, giving me a tight hug.

"Mind the belly!" I warn, not wanting my new, sensitive piercing to get any pressure on it.

"Those will be sensitive for a bit longer," the piercer advises, clearly entertained by the presence of two excitable teenaged girls.

"One last thing," I ask the piercer, "could you get a photo of the two of us, please?" The piercer laughs and nods, taking Sarah's smartphone and photographing the two of us with our tops lifted, showing off our new bejeweled bellies.

"You are going to get in soooo much trouble," Sarah teases as we enter her house.

"Whatever," I say dismissively. "I already avoided a bollocking for wearing thongs, and those hot pants we got last September. It's my body, I get to decide what to do with it. And in fairness, it's not like it's the most extreme thing I plan on doing with my body..."

"Very true," Sarah says, surprising me with a quick kiss. "You know, we DO have the house to ourselves, mum isn't due back until after 5..." I grin widely as I immediately cotton on to what Sarah's implying, and we soon find ourselves in her bedroom, stripping each other off...

Twenty minutes later, our bodies still tingling, we head downstairs, Sarah carrying her laptop.

"What was it you so badly needed to show me that ISN'T a part of your body?" I ask, playfully grabbing a handful of Sarah's soft buttock.

"Do you remember when you first tried on my gymnastics leotard?" Sarah asks. "I mentioned that I'd stopped doing ballet some years ago, but I'd be willing to start again if you'd come with me? I've been thinking about it long and hard-" Sarah playfully probes a hand underneath my skirt as she says this, making us both giggle- "and I've found a new studio that's opened that caters for adult beginners. What do you think?" Whilst the idea of being a ballerina is, understandably, exciting, a part of me is apprehensive- I'm not much of a performer, not by a long stretch. Sarah, however, is more than comfortable in front of an audience, as her time on the school's gymnastics team more than proved.

"I dunno," I say, to my girlfriend's clear disappointment. "I'd kinda feel silly dancing around like a little kid."

"I did say ADULT beginners," Sarah repeats firmly. "If anything we'd probably be the youngest there. And we wouldn't be wearing big, pink frilly tutus either, the dress code simply says a black leotard or tank top and any colour tights or leggings with a black dance skirt on top. It'd be a good way to get fit AND improve your posture at the same time."

"How much would it cost?" I ask, warming to Sarah's idea.

"Not much at all, much less than you're making from your paper round," Sarah says with a smile. "And we can go along for a free taster lesson to see whether or not we like it." I roll my eyes and smile- Sarah's clearly got her heart set on this. She must have been missing her gymnastics team more than I thought...

"And you're happy learning everything again from scratch?" I ask.

"As long as I'm learning it with you, I'm more than happy," Sarah says, giving me a soft, loving kiss.

"Then I guess we're both ballerina girlfriends," I say with a smile, causing Sarah to cheer and give me a long, tight hug.

Three days later, Beverly drops us off at the door of the ballet studio, the two of us dressed identically in black spaghetti-strapped leotards over tight black leggings, with flimsy dance skirts preserving our modesty. Our hair is scraped back into severe ponytails, and on our feet are leather dancing shoes. I'm not wearing my breast forms today- they'd just get in the way, more than anything- but the leotard I'm wearing does have a pinched front, giving the illusion of a tiny amount of cleavage.

"I... feel silly," I confess to Sarah as we ring the doorbell.

"GOOD," Sarah says, poking her tongue out at me. "Embrace that feeling, the more you let yourself go the more fun you'll have!" We're quickly buzzed into the building, where we come face-to-face with our dance teacher- and she's nothing like what I was expecting.

"Hi!" The young, tall- at 5' 8", even taller than me- blonde woman greets us with a warm smile. "You must me Nikki and Sarah, I've been dying to meet you both!"

"...And you're Miss Fullerton?" Sarah asks, clearly taken aback by the teacher's warm, friendly approach.

"Oh please," Miss Fullerton says dismissively. "My 6 year old students call me 'Miss Fullerton', you can call me Krystie."

"Nice to meet you, Krystie," I say, daintily shaking the elegant woman's hand. "I'm Nikki, this is Sarah. I... I take it you understand about my... 'situation'?"

"If by 'situation' you mean 'some people think that you're not really a girl', then yes," Krystie explains. "But whatever! You're here to dance, and if you say you're a girl, who am I to disagree?" Both Sarah and I grin widely as we follow Krystie into the studio where the other new students are waiting for us. As Sarah promised, we're by far the youngest there- most of the other women are in their later twenties or early thirties, with a few even older than that.

The lesson passes off very smoothly. Krystie is obviously an excellent teacher, keeping the lesson moving but not pushing us harder than we're capable of going, and at the end of the hour of exercises I feel ready to do the whole thing over again! I'm especially pleased when Krystie comes up to myself and Sarah afterwards, complimenting us on our performance.

"You two were so good!" Krystie says with a wide smile on her face. "Are you sure you've never taken ballet before?"

"...Only when I was very young," Sarah confesses. "Not for several years now."

"...Very first ever lesson," I say with a confident smile.

"Well you are seriously very good," Krystie continues. "I reckon you could even be ready for pointe in less than 18 months if you keep at it, maybe even dance on stage!" Sarah and I both giggle at our new teacher's positive remarks. "On a related note, have the two of you ever considered modelling, either as a career or maybe a side job whilst at college?"

"I dunno," I say, shaking my head. "Isn't 'transsexual model' a bit of a cliché?"

"Hey!" Krystie says with mock-hurt. "One of my very best friends is a transsexual model, and she's no cliché! Seriously, I'm a model myself, and I know potential when I see it. I can give you the details of my agent, he has several under-18s on his books and he'd be happy to talk to you and your parents about any work he can send your way. Just... think it over." With that, Krystie has hastily scribbled down a mobile phone number and a web address on a piece of paper and sent us on our way, considering the new opportunities life seems to keep thrusting into our hands.

I arrive home full of optimism, eager to study the literature Krystie gave me as part of the 'welcome pack'. When I see my parents' faces, however, my own face drops.

"Nikki," dad says softly. "Could you sit down, please?"

"Wh-what's happened?" I ask, my anxiety increasing rapidly.

"Your mother and I..." Dad begins, causing several worse-case scenarios to run through my mind. ...Are getting a divorce? ...Have decided I should stop being a girl? ...Are forbidding you from seeing Sarah ever again?

"...We're being investigated by social services," mum says with a heavy heart.

"What!?" I ask incredulously.

"My parents- your grandparents- called them," dad explains. "Apparently they feel we're unfit parents for allowing you to live your life the way you want to live it, and feel that we're somehow endangering you."

"You're not endangering me," I retort, my volume raising with anger, "you're empowering me! I've never felt as happy as I've been these last few weeks! And to prove it-" I withdraw Krystie's agent's card from my 'welcome pack'- "I got a job offer today from a modelling agency!" Mum smiles at this unexpected turn of events.

"Nikki!" Mum says with clear delight in her voice. "That's amazing news!"

"Are you allowed to sign with an agency if you're under 18?" Dad asks, clearly eager for some good news after his earlier bad news.

"Well..." I confess, realising I'd got carried away with myself. "It's not actually a job 'offer', but my ballet teacher is also a model and says she can get me- us- an interview with her agent if we'd like."

"...And would you like that, Nikki?" Mum asks sincerely.

"...You know, I don't know," I confess. "I mean, it would be good money, and I have modelled before- for Sarah..."

"Don't make any quick decisions," dad advises. "Especially if we're going to have a visit from social services, what we need is to show that all three of us are acting calmly and putting a lot of thought into everything we do." I nod- once again, dad has hit the nail on the head.

"Anyway, that's enough about that," mum says with an eager smile. "Tell me about ballet! It's been years since I was last in a dance studio, what did you learn?"

"Yeah," dad agrees, "come on, twinkle toes! You're wearing your costume, show us a couple of steps!" I roll my eyes and describe my lesson to my parents, trying to focus on the positive in my life, but at the back of my mind, the impending visit from social services has me worried. And more than just that- it has me ANGRY.

I barely sleep that night- whilst dad's right in that social services almost certainly don't have any case to investigate- everything I've done has been legal and backed up by registered doctors and counsellors- there's this doubt at the back of my mind that says I may very soon end up living with a different family- or worse yet, be forced back into the life I hated by my grandparents. The only thing worse than someone trying to force you to do something you don't want to do is when they truly believe it's for your own good...

The following day I rise early- earning myself much teasing from dad- and carefully pick my look for the day. After pulling on my favourite bra and thong, I carefully pin my hair back, exposing my new earrings, and apply a moderately thick layer of make-up- thick mascara and eyeliner, but pale silver eye shadow and pink lipstick. I redo my nails in a dark pink, and pick out the day's outfit- a knee-length dungaree-style dress with a white crop top underneath. After pulling on a pair of thin black tights and my new 2.5" heeled ankle booties, I grab my bag and head downstairs.

"Looking good, Nikki!" Mum compliments me as I head straight for the front door.

"Where are you going this early?" Dad asks, previously amused but now obviously concerned by my early start.

"Out," I say. "Sarah's."

"No, there's no way you're both up this early," dad says, getting up and blocking me from leaving the house. "You're going to your grandparents', aren't you?" Knowing I've been defeated, I put on my best pout.

"They need to see that this is what I need!" I whine, nearly stamping my feet in frustration.

"And they will," dad reassures me, placing calming hands on my shoulders. "You need to give them time. So what if social services come round? They'll see two loving parents and their beautiful teenaged daughter living normal, happy lives." I sigh- I know everything dad says is right, but I can't help this burning desire I feel to right this wrong in my life.

"Sit down, take a deep breath," dad says, parking me on the sofa as mum hands me a much-needed cup of tea. "We will get through this. We will still be a family. I promise." I sniffle as I sip my tea.

"Is it really too much to ask for," I whine self-pityingly, "to have grandparents who love me for who I am?" Seeing I'm hurting inside, mum sits down beside me and gives me a long, comforting hug.

"No, of course it isn't!" Mum says firmly. "This has really got you wound up, hasn't it?"

"Uh-huh," I moan, still sniffling.

"Try to focus on the positives in your life," dad advises. "And you've got so many! You've got Sarah, you've got us, you're off to college in September, you've got your ballet, hell, you've even got a job offer!" I smile as I remember the scrap of paper Krystie all but forced into my hands yesterday.

"That's more like it," dad says at the sight of my grin. "So now that you're not going to do anything silly, what do you want to do today?" I grin as I remember an offer made on the day of my coming out.

"I believe I'm still owed a make-over?" I cheekily ask my mother, who simply laughs and hugs me again.

"After all you've been through, you deserve one," mum concedes. "And yes, Sarah can come too!"

Later that afternoon, I step out of the beauty salon feeling like a whole new woman. As promised, my eyebrows have been reshaped from their usual furry mess into chic, sleek arches, my nails have been shaped and polished to perfection with a long-lasting pink-purple varnish that isn't coming off any time soon, and my hair has been restyled to give it much more volume, and with it a cute bounce with every step I take. My legs have been waxed smooth, giving them a glossy shine even when completely bare. Naturally, Sarah has received the same treatment, and is looking as beautiful as I've ever seen her. And, of course, mum couldn't resist treating herself to the same treatments as well!

"You know," I say, squeezing Sarah's hand on the car ride home," I really do feel like I could be a fashion model. It’s like- and I know this is silly- before I wanted to be a girl. Now, I want to be a WOMAN."

"I can DEFINITELY agree with that," Sarah says, linking hands with me in our 'special gesture'. "Woman love forever!"

"For ever and ever," I say with a smile, giving Sarah a quick kiss and earning us both a reprimand from mum! Yeah, not everything's perfect in my life, but dad's right- in the few weeks I've lived full-time as Nikki, so many things have gone right, so many doors have been opened for me and so many opportunities lie at my feet. I have so many positives to focus on- it makes no sense to focus on the negatives. I WILL, with Sarah and my parents' help, overcome any obstacle placed in my way, because I AM a strong, smart woman. I am Nikki. Hear me roar!