We arrived at the psychiatrist’s office after about thirty minutes of Dad’s lead-footed driving. That man would have been a stock car driver in another life, I swear. The office was located on the far side of the city from our house and was in a fairly upmarket part of town. Clearly, head shrinking paid well enough for the nice digs, but did that make it any good for me?

Dad pulled the car into a parking spot and shut off the engine before turning to face me, “are you ready for this kiddo?”

“I am a little scared. I mean she’s not going to stop me being me, right?”

Dad shakes his head. “No, she isn’t. I… ah, look.” he shifts awkwardly. “You should know before we go in, well… your mother and I, we’ve already met with her a few times.”

“When?”

“Uh, July.”

“JULY?!”

Dad holds his hands up in surrender, “Holly, look… This was back when we first really realized you were probably struggling with a gender issue and we needed to work out what to do to help. Doctor Ward is a great Psychiatrist and she knows quite a bit about you already. She helped us realize that you had to come to us about this and that it was something real and likely permanent that wouldn’t go away.”

“I feel a tiny bit betrayed,” I admit with a huff, “but I suppose I do get it.”

Dad squeezes my hand and gives me a little smile. “She helped us to mourn our son and helped prepare us to welcome our daughter.”

“Mourn?”

He nods, “We were quite fond of him, our little boy. The truth she helped us to realize is that he never really existed did he? We loved what we thought he was. She helped us to understand that and know that you were still you, but we just hadn’t known it.”

“Profound,” I admit.

“Come on kid, let's get in there eh?”

Summoning my courage, I follow Dad into the lobby up to the front desk. To my relief, there’s nobody else waiting when we arrive, but I still feel like I’m being invisibly judged for my mere presence. The receptionist looks up as we approach and smiles like they all do. It says ‘I’m being paid to like you.’

“Hello there! Do you have an appointment?” she beams in corporate.

“Michael Winters and Holly to see Doctor Ward?”

The woman looks down and types something on her computer before smiling at us again. “Ah, yes, here we are! Take a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here! She wants you to fill this out for Holly please.” She adds handing Dad a clipboard and pen.

We find seats and Dad starts filling out the aforementioned forms.

“What is it?” I ask, glancing over at the official-looking paperwork.

“Nothing interesting,” he mumbles, focused on the form. “Medical history and school details, probably favorite food. Most importantly insurance details.”

I rapidly lose interest like any teenager and start looking around the room. I’ve never been to a psychiatrist before so it’s quite interesting in a morbid way. I suppose in reality it’s like a lot of private medical practices; comforting and neutral. Magazines are lined up on a coffee table but I’m not quite in the mood to read this first time. Behind it all, there’s classical music playing softly in the background to sooth our troubled noggins.

“Holly Winters?” A woman’s voice asks, dragging me from my distracted visual exploration.

I glance over and spot an older woman, perhaps Mom’s age, looking at me expectantly. She’s got her brunette hair up in a neat bun and a pair of tortoiseshell glasses perched on the end of her nose. She’s pretty slim and dressed smartly in a cream blouse and slacks.

“That’s me,” I admit, standing up and smoothing my clothes. “Um, hello.”

She smiles at me and turns to the paternal unit. “I’d like to speak to Holly on her own first, Mister Winters, is that ok?”

“Sure thing. I’ll be out here Holly, ok?” Dad offers, squeezing my hand. “You got this, Honey.”

“I hope so,” I grimace a little more nervously than I expect.

Standing up, I follow the good Doctor through into her office. It’s tastefully decorated in a reserved beige pallet that won’t offend any senses. It feels a little like my school counselor’s office with a far bigger budget. There’s the obligatory sofas and chairs and a large desk over by one wall. Doctor Ward walks over to an armchair and directs me to the sofa at an angle to it. “If you’d like to take a seat, Holly, I promise not to bite, ok dear?”

“I’m a little stringy and lack flavor,” I admit, taking my spot on the sofa as demurely as possible.

The Psychiatrist smirks slightly at my remark but remains professional. “I’m Doctor Carol Ward, I think your parents told you that I specialize in Gender issues, correct?”

I give her a nod, not really sure if she expects an answer.

She smiles. “So, you can call me Carol, or Doctor Ward, whichever is more comfortable for you. I assume you’re ok with me using Holly?”

“Well, it is my name,” I shrug.”

Ward Smiles. “did you choose it yourself or was it one your parents selected?”

“I remember Mom saying years ago that it might have been my name if I’d been born a girl. I kinda latched onto it and it became my real name.”

Doctor Ward nods and writes something on her pad. “I must say, Holly, you’re quite an unusual and interesting case for me. I normally meet people in your situation a little later in life and often a lot earlier in their transition.”

“Ah… yeah, I kinda cheated,” I admit with a sheepish smile.

Doctor Ward nods and smiles. “Certainly not a safe or ideal path, but I believe I understand why you did it. I must admit, few are in your position to have both the knowledge and resourcefulness to go about this as you have. Honestly, I’m rather impressed at your accomplishments so far. Based on what your Mother passed on regarding dosages, you were actually pretty much spot on.”

“Daughter of a doctor, I guess it’s genetic,” I admit a little less nervous now I know I’m not going to get yelled at or punished for self-medicating.

“I want you to know that I know how dangerous doing this was, I really do. I had no choice; I was desperate and at my wit’s end. All I had left was to do this and prevent puberty or… face worse options.”

“Did you consider talking to your parents?” Ward queries.

I shook my head, “I was terrified that they’d send me to military school or conversion therapy.”

Doctor Ward nods and smiles sympathetically. “Did they give you the impression that they would?”

I truly feel a wave of deep regret at that moment and sigh. “No, never. Honestly, I read about so many horror stories for kids coming out. There are so many stories about people’s lives falling apart and rejection; I truly believed it was going to happen to me. My plan was to stop puberty and make it to college where I could have somewhere safe to live then come out and hope it went ok.”

I smirk at the comedy of the situation. “Turns out that a bunch of older trans folk telling me how long it would take to change me were completely wrong. I got the impression that I could hide the changes well enough for a few years,” I chuckle.

Doctor Ward genuinely smiles at this. “Yes, for our average patient in their forties, that would be true. For you dear, the changes are far more rapid and extensive.”

“So I discovered,” I smile. “I’m not exactly sad.”

“From what your mother said, you came out to her about a week ago, after an incident at school I believe?”

I proceed to fill Doctor Ward in on the adventures of the prior week. You don’t need me to recount the dialogue covering my grand bonkening and the subsequent hospital theatrics, do you? Of course not. She listens in silence while I recount most of last week in great detail. There is but one thing I omit, and I think you can guess which wide receiver that is.

“So… yeah that’s up until now,” I offer awkwardly.

Ward nods and scribbles something on her pad. I’m pretty convinced they do that for effect, even more now that I know most record their sessions to dictate later. Once she’s done, she looks up at me and smiles. “Quite an adventure so far Holly.”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose.” I shrug. “It’s not how I would have done it.”

Doctor Ward smiles and puts down her notepad. “Tell me, Holly, Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you feel the need to take these steps?”

I pause for a moment, allowing myself a second to compose my thoughts. I don’t particularly want to mention self-forever sleep… that usually upsets Psychiatrists.

“The idea of becoming like my brother was terrifying to me,” I begin, making direct eye contact with the woman across from me. “The idea of getting bigger and growing muscles and hair and a deep voice felt utterly alien and terrifying.”

“And why is that? Are you sure that isn’t a normal response to puberty? That it might be a fear of the unknown?”

I shook my head and took a second to collect my thoughts before answering her. I’m no shrink, and even I know this is one of those ‘define yourself’ moments. “Doctor Ward, what do you see before you?”

Ward raises an eyebrow, “From my perspective, I can see what appears to be a quite pretty young woman.”

I nod, “That is what I am and that is what I’ve always been. For as long as I can remember, it’s the central truth of my existence. I’m not a boy like Rob. Don’t get me wrong; I love my brother, he’s a wonderful person but we are not the same. My sister Christine, my mother; I am like them.”

“What are they like?” Ward asks finding a thread to pull at.

I consider the question, “female.”

“What is female?” Ward asks, the slightest hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Is it the clothes? The makeup? Liking boys?”

I shake my head. “A woman or a girl isn’t defined by what she wears or how she acts. I know girls that are tomboys and others that are fashion princesses. They’re wildly different but they’re all girls. There’s something intrinsically different about us at a core level that separates us from boys and men. Maybe a lot of it is how girls are raised, but I know that I share far more in common with my sister, my Mom or my female friends. I share far more than I do with any guy, even Rob and my Dad. I can’t exactly explain why, but at my core, I know that I’m meant to have breasts and a vagina, to grow up to fall in love and be a wife, to be… hopefully one day, a Mom.”

“You do know that you’ll never be able to be a mother, biologically, right?” Ward asks gently.

“I know,” I nod sadly. “That thought saddens me, but it doesn’t cheapen my value as a woman or a mom. I want it all the same. To me, womanhood is something intangible; I have no idea what it means yet, but I want to learn. My friends at school, they’re not women yet either, we’re just girls. I just know above all else that I am so much more like them than any boy. Being this way feels correct.”

Ward smiled politely and began scribbling in her notebook. A few moments later, she looked up and fixed me with a pleasant gaze. “You’d be surprised how many transgender patients have come before me and told me that womanhood is x, or womanhood is y, young and old, we all have our ideas. If we’re to believe the religions sort, a woman is no more than a uterus on legs.” she chuckled briefly seeing the look of revulsion on my face.

“The truth is, Holly, that even I, born a girl, can’t tell you what a woman is. However, like you, at my core, I know that it is exactly what I am. My questions are not a test and there is no way to pass or fail this, short of comorbid psychiatric issues. I simply wanted to understand your mentality and approach to understanding your identity, do you understand?”

“You need to know if I’m thinking clearly or if it’s just a temporary fad or interest, perhaps an escape.”

Doctor Ward nodded slightly, “I do not believe that is the case here. Naturally, I cannot make a full diagnosis from only one appointment, but I don’t believe that there is anything wrong with you. From what I can see, you are a textbook case of Gender Identity Disorder presenting with… well, having experienced gender dysphoria. Do you know what those mean?”

“That I felt my body was incongruous with my internal identity or sense of self and that I wanted to correct it through endocrinological and surgical means.”

Ward smiles, “You really are a doctor’s daughter. That honestly makes my life a lot easier, you clearly have done your research. How did you go about that?”

“School textbooks on psychology, the internet, a lot of confusion and missteps,” I admit. “I have always known how I felt but I didn’t know what to call it.”

“That’s a common sentiment,” she agrees, “and when you knew what it meant?”

I consider the question for a moment, “For a long time, I was under the impression that I would wait, that I would have to wait. I read so many stories about how badly coming out went for young people; and the terrible outcomes. I knew I’d have to hide it until I got to college so that I had somewhere safe to stay. It turns out that my stupid paranoid brain convinced me that it wouldn’t ever turn out like… well, this.”

“What do you foresee happening now?”

“I’d like to start living as Holly if I can,” I reply hopefully. “That would be nice, I know I’ll have to stay as Alex for some time, but I’d prefer not to.”

“What about school? Your parents said you’re meeting the principal at your school’s Girl’s Division, would you want to go there?”

“I have friends there so, I’d like to, I think.”

Doctor Ward nods, “Your mother mentioned two sisters that you are friendly with, correct?”

“Kara and Megan Byrne, yes. We’ve been friends since, uh, fifth grade? I was in School with Gary their brother and we all kinda got closer.”

“They know about Holly?”

“Megan and Kara yes, their brother no.”

“If you went to this school, your past would be known, is that something you’d be willing to experience?”

“I guess, as long as nobody is bad about it,” I admit. “I’m not ashamed of myself, but I’d prefer to be treated like a normal girl.”

“What about a different school where your past isn’t known?”

I consider the idea for a minute. “Sure, but I don’t know enough about being a girl yet. I would be too scared of being found out. At least this way I have my friends.”

Ward nods and makes a note. “A pragmatic approach and while I cannot speak beyond this session, I cannot see anything but a lovely young woman in front of me. Trust me, Holly, none of us know enough about being a girl at age sixteen; some of us just think we do.”

I nod, “I’ve learned so much from them already, but I know it’s only a tiny slice of the knowledge that Christine or my Mom have,. Life skills, experiences, and knowledge that I will need to make my way in the world.”

Ward frowned a little at my comment and looked almost sympathetic. “How did you become so pragmatic for one so young?”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice,” I smile. “I had to fix myself, nobody else would do it for me. I live in a world where people think I’m insane or a deviant for being born this way. Where people want to kick my ass for finding me attractive or if I express interest in aaaa….”

“In a… what?” Ward asked, perking up.

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing, Holly.”

Shit, she has me here.

“Fine,” I concede. “Interest in a boy.”

“Do you find boys attractive?”

Eh, in for a cent, in for a dollar, “I wasn’t into anyone at first. I was quite happily moving through the world really only thinking about myself. Once I began hormones, I, uh, well. I discovered that I found boys not entirely awful.”

The image of those two boys on that family vacation flashes through my head and I’m convinced that I turn fire truck red. The image slowly changes to Rick in board shorts dripping water and I’m pretty positive I start steaming like a kettle.

“I have a teenage daughter,” Ward points out, putting down her notepad and smiling like a shark. “It takes a mother, not a psychiatrist to know that your blushing means there is one particular boy, right?”

Fuck this woman, she’s far too good.

“Maybe,” I concede. Do I really need to tell her about Rick? This is a stinking huge issue that I have no idea how to resolve. What do I even do?

“I suppose there is one boy in particular that I kind of like,” I admit sheepishly. “He doesn’t know about me, technically.”

“Why do you say technically?” Ward asks, ceasing on the bone presented to her. “Do you think he suspects?”

“I don’t think he’s directly aware, but yes.” I begin. “At first, a friend told me that he was treating me like a girl rather than a boy. Over time I had come to see it too; I noticed the behaviors and his responses to me. We don’t think that he was aware that he was doing that.”

“We?”

“Meg, Kara, and Me.”

“Friends are very important to helping to give us emotional clarity,” the doctor nods. “Do you share things like this with your girlfriends often?”

“All the time,” I admit. “We share everything.”

“What do they think of this boy?”

“That my feelings are natural and normal. While I can’t exactly do anything about it, I should allow myself to be friends with him and just not worry about anything else.”

Ward nods, “That’s a mature approach. Do you think he suspects?”

I consider it. “I don’t think he does, but I think he’s confused by his attraction and behavior towards me. I think he genuinely wants to be my friend, but he’s not sure why he feels a certain way around me. I’m afraid that I’m confusing him.”

Carol Ward smiles sympathetically, “That’s probably true Holly, but it’s not your fault either. You do need to be careful though. More than one girl in your shoes has gotten herself hurt.”

“I’m more than aware,” I sigh. “More than aware.”

Doctor Ward glances at the clock and smiles. “We’ve made some good progress today. I’d like to bring Dad in before we wrap up, is that ok?”

“Sure,” I shrug. “Can we keep the boy stuff between us for now? I’d rather my parents got used to having a daughter without worrying about… you know, boy stuff yet.”

“Everything we discuss is between us, fear not,” Ward smiles.

A few moments later, she returns with Dad in tow and he takes a seat beside me on the sofa. “How did it go?” He asked casually. “Head feeling shrunk yet?”

“Like a South American cannibal totem,” I snarked back, almost causing Doctor Ward to spit out the water she was sipping at the time.

“Well Mister Winters, as you can see, Holly is in fine wit, undiminished by our time together.”

Dad eyed me and grinned, “that has never been a problem for my daughter.”

Damnit Daddy, I never tire of hearing that.

Winters closed her notebook and placed it on her lap as she faced us. “ As I mentioned previously, I am not fully prepared to give a formal diagnosis yet, not after only one session. When it comes to diagnosis of this type, especially for one at such a formative young age, it is imperative that we get it right.” she smiled and paused, holding her hands up towards me as she sensed my desire to comment.

“That is how we must proceed formally,” she admits. “It is the pathway to satisfy the system as it currently stands. Off the record, it’s more than plainly obvious to me that I’m sitting here talking to a delightful young lady who fully knows her mind and herself. Mister Winters, you and your wife have certainly set realistic and strong standards of modern womanhood for her to learn from, even if you didn’t know she was learning it from you.”

Dad glanced over and I sensed a pride within him in that moment that I’d never actually felt before. “Veronica, my wife, is my equal partner and in many ways, my intellectual superior. She and Christine are beautiful amazing smart women that I am incredibly proud to know. Holly takes after them and she couldn’t have finer role models.”

“That I can see,” Doctor Ward smiles. “I know you wanted to have something formal to present to your school this weekend. While I cannot formally diagnose her as Gender Dysphoric, I can provide a letter explaining that it’s extremely likely this will be my diagnosis and that she is under my treatment. Especially considering her… circumstances.”

She glanced over at me and smiled as she shook her head. “Holly here has put the cart before the horse in many ways. With starting hormone therapy before a diagnosis we miss a lot of the paperwork that would precede changing schools. I would like to send a letter to your family doctor to get bloodwork done and refer her on to an endocrinologist. Typically this is after a diagnosis, but I want her to be on safe and controlled hormone therapy.”

“We can make sure she gets that done Doctor,” Dad agrees. “And I would love to have something to give to the school, even if it’s preliminary.”

Ward nods, “I think that would be best. I do believe in this case her remaining with boys may well be harmful to her safety given her physical development. It’s exceedingly obvious that she would be far better served in an environment with other girls.”

“Does that mean I can transfer to the Girls Division?” I ask hopefully.

Dad pats my knee and shakes his head. “I don’t know Holly, but we’ll find out when we see the Principal on Friday. Regardless of that, you won’t be remaining with the boys for much longer.”

“Thank god, boys stink.” I grimace theatrically.

Dad rolls his eyes. “Definitely her mother’s daughter.”

 

 

We got home from the shrink a little after six that evening. In her infinite wisdom, Mother Dearest had ordered pizza from Al Dente’s, which was my ultimate comfort food. Nothing quite gets you over the emotional trauma of sharing your innermost feelings with a total stranger like double cheese and double pepperoni.

Doctor Ward had been an interesting experience. I had always known therapy would be a part of my transition, but it wasn’t one I was prepared to face. A little part of me had always feared being told I was crazy, and that this was all in my head, but I think the rather, unexpected, nature of my coming out had somewhat overrun me. I hadn’t had time to build up the panic and fear I might ordinarily have manifested when faced with someone holding my future in her hands.

Ward had been a kind woman, and one clearly very knowledgeable in the subject at hand. Was I a little salty that my parents had been seeing her since July? Hell, what if I had come out sooner? I might not have even had to go to school with the boys at all.

I was glad that they had someone to talk to, and in a way, I couldn’t fault them for it. This was a lot for me to process, and I had years to come to terms with my nature. For them, this was sudden and terrifying, I couldn’t begrudge them the help, but I was miffed we had all known but kept it from each other for so very long.

As I sat crosslegged on the sofa, munching a slice of gooey cheesy goodness, I felt contentment for the very first time in my life. Here I was, home with my family as Holly, their daughter, and sister. I was free of secrets, free of pain, and I could simply exist. Sure, I wasn’t finished, and I was still to face so many challenges in my life, but for the first time, I was pretty sure I could do it.

I'm not sure if Pizza or therapy helped more with that realization, but they both played their part. I highly encourage anyone with similar troubles to consult both liberally; you can’t be too careful.

Modern-day Holly again, I know I joke a lot and make fun of my situation, but I want you to understand that this is in hindsight. At the time, teenage Holly was fearful and uncertain and just barely coping with her situation. Honestly, for many years it wasn’t remotely funny. Looking back now at the past, I can see all of the perverse and twisted comedy of my experiences.

They made me the woman I am today. If you asked me then if I could flip a switch and be born female like my sister, I would have said yes. If you asked that same question now, I would say no. Not because I want to be transgender, but rather, because of what happened and how made me the woman I am today. That lost and confused kid became a far happier person. She found love and she found her calling in life. She still loves Double pepperoni and Double cheese Pizza, and she still relies on coffee to function. She is not perfect, but she’s living her life.

The most important part is she can now look back on this dumpster fire of her teenage years without it hurting. I challenge you to look at gender transition objectively, and not see the potential for comedy it holds. Awkward gender-related faux pas, moments of confusion, and the potential for silliness it holds are unlimited.

You’ve all read the stories and enjoyed the sweet and silly moments, but nothing is quite like living it. Especially when you make such a royal mess of it like I did. Yeah, at the time it’s mortifying, but afterward? That sitcom laugh track feels awkwardly appropriate.

 

 

A little later that evening, I was sitting in my room finishing my homework. With today being a day of introspection and reflection, I can’t really put off calling Chrissie now, can I? Mom and Dad told me that this had to come from me and I won’t lie, I’m a little apprehensive. Not a great deal admittedly, I’ve got a big fight over with; my parents. Christina was the one who I always hoped and expected would take this the best; here goes nothing I suppose.

I pull out my cell phone and search through the phonebook for her number and hit dial before I can back out of it. The phone rings for what feels like an eternity before I hear it answered.

“Hey Alex, sup?” Chrissie seems like she’s in a good mood and there’s music playing in the background.

“Hey uh, sis. How are you?”

“I’m good, but you don’t usually call out of the blue, what’s up?”

“Got time to talk?”

“Uh, sure, what’s going on?” I hear the music shut off and her tone becomes a little more serious. I guess I can’t chicken out now, it’s been a week since the folks found out, she’s the last to know… and she deserves to know.

“Um, Chrissie, I really need to tell you something important, but I need you to hear me out ok? I’d love to tell you this in person, but with stuff happening recently, I really can’t wait for that to happen. You.. uh, you deserve to know now.”

“Is this about the thing at school?” she asks. “It’s not something affecting you medically is it?”

“No, no it’s not,” I admit. I swallow the biggest lump in my throat ever and continue. “It’s connected, I guess. What happened last week brought something out into the open, something about who I am. It’s made me confront things that I was trying to keep hidden.”

There’s a pause, and then she speaks. ”Like what?”

“Do you know what transgender means?”

There’s an even longer pause and it feels like torture, “Chrissie?”

“I know what it means, Alex,” she replies evenly. “Why?”

Gulp.

“I’m trans, Chrissie; I’m a girl…I should be… I mean I’m… yeah.”

Eloquent as always Holly dearest, eloquent as always.

There’s a pause on the line for a moment and I can hear the sound of Chrissie breathing, “I understand, thank you for telling me, Alex.”

“You do?”

There’s a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, “I think I’ve been expecting this conversation for a while.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I was talking to Mom this summer;” she admits. “You had changed a lot and you had started to look really girly. I guess it kinda hit me in the face that you were never really much of a boyish boy. Somehow you didn’t look effeminate, just…feminine.”

“It turns out that I was the only one I was fooling,” I sigh.

“So, you want to be a girl? I was doing some research once I got to school, learning what it all means.”

“Inside Chrissie, I’ve always been one; just like you and Mom. I never felt like Rob or Dad. Those changes you saw this summer were female hormones. This is who I want to be forever, the real me.”

Chrissie whistles, “That’s deep Alex, like forever deep. From what I read, this path is a one-way trip, realistically.”

“I know, and It’s the only direction I have to go, my heart is set, sis. Mom, Dad, and Rob all know. They found out in the wake of my attack. I don’t know how much Mom told you.”

“That you got your bell rung pretty bad. Admitted to hospital, concussion?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t look much like a boy anymore. The doctors, they assumed I was a girl and… things got complicated.”

“Sounds like you Alex, making a real mess of things.”

“You’re not mad with me?”

“No, I’m not mad,” Chrissie chuckles softly. “Like I said, I’ve been kinda expecting this, but you sure as shit made a hash of things…sister?”

I’m pretty sure my life was complete at that moment. My whole family accepts me as Holly. My big sister called me her sister; boom done.

“I love you, Chrissie.”

“I love you too, A…I don’t suppose you’re going to keep Alex are you?”

“Holly Juliette, it’s what Mom and Dad were going to call me if I’d been born right.”

“That’s nice,” she answers quietly. I can tell she’s smiling, as strange as it sounds. “My sister Holly; hmm; that has a nice ring to it.”

“That feels so good to hear you say,” I murmur softly. “Thank you Chissie.”

“What are you going to do about school? I assume you’re not staying with the boys, right?”

“No, we’re seeing the Girls' Principal on Friday, I hope I can transfer to finish up my time.”

“Ol’ Carlos isn’t too bad.” Chrissie opines. “She’s got a bit of a grumpy stuffy veneer but she’s a good woman deep down.”

“I hope so, I’m rather scared.”

“Be yourself, kid, be yourself. If you’re anything like me or Mom, you’ll kick butt, I know it.”

“I’ve been accused of being a lot like Mom.”

“Crap at keeping secrets, puts everyone else before herself, and irritatingly perky? God, please don’t become a cheerleader.”

“Trust me Chrissie, there’s zero risk of that. I consider the whole enterprise demeaning.”

“Good,” My sister chuckled, “test passed little sister.”

“I can’t wait to see you again,” I sniffle, feeling more than a little emotional by this point. “When are you home?”

“Hopefully Thanksgiving. I guess I know why Mom rang to tell me she and Dad had stumped up for plane tickets this week huh?”

“I can’t wait, I’ve really missed you, Chrissie.”

“You too A… Holly, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I admit. “It’s still new; I don’t expect anyone to be perfect. Plus I still gotta use that name for like… however long I have to pretend to be a boy.”

“Is that how it feels?” she asks, “like you’re pretending?”

“School is the only place Alex exists anymore,” I admit with a sigh of relief. “After it all came out, well… so did I. Outside of there, I’m just me, I’m just Holly now. Being Alex is pretending for me, it always has been. Now it’s just a bit more literal. I get up, I bind my boobs, hide my hair and slouch then go to school.”

“You poor thing,” Christine sighs. “I can’t wait to meet you properly soon.”

“I hate to do this kiddo, but I’ve got to get back to work on this project or my professor will have my ass, I’ll call home soon ok? Tell me how Friday goes, alright?”

“I will, and thanks Chrissie. Thanks for listening.”

“I got you, Holly, ok? I love you, sis.”

She hangs up and the tears start almost immediately. It’s not sadness, rather, it’s happiness mixed with relief. That, and a healthy dose of Estrogen thrown in for good measure. Now, other than school, I am now out to my entire family and they accept me for who I really am.

My greatest fear is dead; I won’t be shipped off to be cured and I get to be the real me. Sure the details are still a little fuzzy, but it’s going to happen. Being free is an emotionally violent feeling.

My sister called me Sis, my mother has called me her daughter, Rob, and Dad both love me… Maybe there is light at the end of this tunnel?

I think I might buy a lotto ticket.

Shit, I’m not Eighteen yet... Why me?

 

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