Before you stop reading, this isn’t going to be a dry, boring, courtroom procedural like the second half of every Crime & Disorder episode. Nor will it be an epic legal drama with a plucky and elegant protagonist worthy of Emma Anne Tate. Well, no, that isn’t entirely true; it will feature me, and last I checked I’m pretty darn plucky.

Enough messing around. You came to read about how I truly became Holly Juliette Winters, didn’t you? Yeah, you’re after that sweet, sweet bureaucracy fix, a good dose of systematic complexity that makes transition stories really juicy. |Yeah… I know it’s a pain in the ass, but it was once worse.

While the system in California today is pretty simple -and frankly a relative delight compared to large parts of the United States - in the early 2000s it was still possible, but it was a heck of a lot more… clunky.

Back in ye olden days, an adult might present the judge with a letter or two, answer a couple of questions, and be granted their precious little gender marker. For a minor like myself to change their details, we had far more hoops to leap through to prove we were just as serious. This can and often did include witnesses, medical testimony, and periods of assessment to judge us as worthy of making our own decisions.

Now I get it, children can have difficulty sometimes articulating what they want, and in many cases, might change their minds. Hell, it’s one of the central driving ideologies against trans teens being able to be treated with reversible medications around the world… because people are convinced that because we’re younger, we’re clueless. This is all, of course, ignoring the fact that the regret rate for teenage transition is around 1%... Yup, that low. Almost as low as Republican shame.

I could wax lyrical about that particular topic for the length of an entire novel, so I’ll spare you the preaching as I’m pretty sure if you’re reading this, you’re somewhat onboard already. Let’s just say I had to have my psychiatrist, primary care physician and a report from my endocrinologist lined up for inspection; you’d think I was a used car that they were selling, wouldn’t you?

The Superior Court building downtown looked like any generic municipal building in the United States; bland, unimaginative, and designed to remove as much of your soul as possible by the fact of its mere presence. I wish I could have compared the symbology of grand Greco-Roman architecture to the mighty pillars of American justice, but this one just looked like it housed a tax office.

I was wearing a suit today, it was the first time I had done so since the fateful Germany trip upended my entire universe. This time, however, it wasn’t from the boy’s department. This time, I was wearing a smart charcoal skirt suit with a fine grey pinstripe over a pale pink blouse and a pair of black three-inch court shoes. I looked smart and classy; my makeup was understated and my jewelry was restrained to simple stud earrings and my gold watch. My goal had been smart and serious over office fashionista, a vibe that Mother Dearest seemed to agree that I had nailed rather well.

As my petition for name and status change was a civil case, it would be held this morning in a special session with the Honorable Judge Thomas Carter. That’s what found me waiting nervously on a bench outside his courtroom at nine in the morning the first week of January. Look, you try changing your entire identity around over the Christmas vacation, it’s freaking complicated.

“You doing ok?”

I look up at Big Brother sitting beside me and shrug, “I guess so. I know a lot of it is just the process, but I can’t help but wonder what happens if he decides to say no. Is that it? Back to Alex? Screw the doctors? Or can I try again?”

Rob puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a side hug. “Don’t fret it Hol, there’s no way a judge will ever look at you and decide you’re a boy.”

“It’s still possible.”

“And most of those horror cases are in your wild imagination,” he points out.

“Point.”

I watched deputies escorting a guy in a jumpsuit and irons past us toward an elevator at the end of the hallway. “Do I get one of those If I lose?”

“Nah,” Chrissie grinned, poking me in the ribs from the other side of me, “just a pair of boxers.”

I made a face, somewhere between disgust and fear. “I’m good, thanks.”

Yes, all three Winters siblings are united as one somewhat unstoppable force today here at the Sacramento Superior Court, but we were far from alone: obviously, our parents were here, and both Doctor Ward and Harris were in attendance. A rather surprising but not unpleasant attendee was Frau Whistler, who had been reached out to by our attorney as a character witness. I hope she’s not too honest or I’m in serious trouble. Especially if she mentions that final night in Germany…

Where was Mister love interest you ask? To tell you the truth, I didn’t want him to be here. Today was certainly important for me and for the people that I cared about, but it was important for me to say goodbye to Alex Winters by myself. That name and identity had been part of who I had to be, not who I truly was. It might sound silly, but I didn’t want to give him any more reminders that I had been Alex Winters, boy, if I didn’t need to.

Was I embarrassed about that fact? Yes. I hated giving Rick any reminder that I wasn’t all female. I knew that come the new semester there would be plenty of other reminders, so I wanted to mitigate anything I could between us. Thankfully, he respected my decision and didn’t attend, although I suspect he didn’t feel great about it.

“Case Eight Twenty Seven, Winters, Alexander, Change of Status.”

Yup… that’s me… here goes nothing I suppose. I hope that’s the final time someone calls that name out in a public setting. Let’s all hope anyone listening thinks it for Rob… yeah, that’s a thing.

We file into the courtroom and take our places while we wait for proceedings to begin. A gentleman called Mister Hartley is our attorney and he has me join him and my parents up at the plaintiff’s bench toward the front of the courtroom. You know how those look; a row of benches facing the Judge’s dais? Castle? Seaty bit? Something like that.

I smooth my suit and mess with my hair, anything to distract from the nervous flutters starting to worm their way into my tummy. Somehow, the quiet, close, still air of the courtroom is making me feel ten times more nervous than sitting outside in the corridor waiting for it all to start.

A door clicks open at the back of the room and the bailiff steps forward. "All rise! The Civil Division of the Superior Court of the State of California for the County of Sacramento is now in session, the honorable Thomas Carter, judge presiding.”

Game time!

We all spring to our feet and I’m suddenly very confused about what to do with my hands. Settling on clasping them demurely in front of me, I watch this guy a little older than my Dad walk out to the bench and take a seat before everyone around me follows suit.

“Please be seated.” The Bailiff declares.

The judge picks up a document and reads through it for a moment before glancing up and scanning the room in front of him. “Good morning everyone, The Clerk will call the first case.”

The Clerk of the court sitting just below the judge checks through some paperwork, “Case eight twenty-seven - Winters, Alexander, Change of name and legal gender status.”

The judge nods, and glances over at the counsel table, “who represents the plaintiff?”

Mister Hartley stood up, "Good morning, Your Honor. James Hartley, Wescot-Lancaster, for the Plaintiff."

“Very good,” Judge Carter nods. “The plaintiff, for the duration of today’s proceedings, identified as Mister Alexander Michael Winters, is present?”

Gulp, my turn… and yes, that is my middle name, Dad’s name… I still feel a tiny bit bad abandoning it given everything he’s done for me but I have no real choice. I stand, smooth my skirt, and clasp my hands together. “present, your honor.”

Judge Carter raises an eyebrow, “I can see why you are making a petition in this particular case.”

I resist the urge to respond sarcastically as I glance over at the Clerk taking record, remembering that anything I say gets put down in legal record. “Yes, your Honor.”

“Please don’t be afraid, young lady…” The judge pauses, smiles slightly, and chuckles. “I’m supposed to remain neutral here, but I see that is going to be a difficult task today.”

“I apologize, your Honor.”

Judge Carter glanced down at his notes and read for a moment. “Petition for change of name from Alexander Michael Winters to Holly Juliette Winters and an amendment of gender to female.” He glanced up and gave me a reassuring smile. “For the court record, and those not present here today looking at you, would you like to explain in your own words why you are seeking this petition?”

“I’m uh, I am transgender, Your Honor.” I stammer out awkwardly. I’m really not good at saying these things out loud, even if most people in the room already know. “I am in the process of transitioning from male to female under medical supervision, and in January, I’m transferring to my school’s Girls’ Division where I would like my details and official record to reflect who I really am.”

“Thank you, Mister Winters,” the judge nods, gesturing for me to sit once more. “As incongruous as it is for me to refer to the petitioner as mister in this instance, it is my legal requirement at this time. It is also my legal requirement to ensure that this minor is making a sound and medically justifiable decision. Mister Hartley, do you have supporting witnesses for the petition today?”

Our Attorney stands up, “Yes, Your Honor; “A Doctor Carol Ward, Gender attending gender specialist psychiatrist. There is Doctor Tony Harris the primary care physician, and the plaintiff’s Teacher, Jennifer Whistler. We also have written testimony from Doctor Maya Anderson the attending endocrinologist.”

“Excellent, let’s hear from the psychiatrist first, Doctor Ward?”

Carol Ward stepped up and was escorted to the witness stand and was sworn in. Yup, they swore her in to talk shit about me… they don’t mess around in real-life court.

“Good morning Doctor Ward, I’ve looked over your prepared report, but I would like you to please start at your initial contact with the patient’s parents. This was in June, long before you met with the plaintiff?”

Oh, this should be good… I haven’t heard this hot gossip before. The best part about court is that people have to tell the truth, it’s also the worst part.

Carol Ward smiled and adjusted her glasses. “I first met with Doctor and Mister Winters on June Twelfth of 2004 after initial contact with Doctor Winters herself. This was regarding potential gender issues for her youngest child, Alexander, the plaintiff.”

God, I hate hearing it phrased that way, but it’s curious to really see how it was perceived externally.

“And what were their initial concerns?”

“During our sessions, it was discussed that they believed that Alex was already firmly grounded in their internal gender identity. This was reinforced when it was disclosed that they believed that their child was sourcing their own access to hormone replacement therapy.”

Eh, yeah, remember how I was totally not as subtle or clever as I thought? Yup, that’s me; Last to flipping know.

“Was it determined that Alex was under the care of a practitioner?”

“It was not, Your Honor.” she clarified. “Alex was sourcing the medication themselves and basing their dosing on best clinical practice from the standards of care. Typically these medications are prescribed by a physician, however, they are not controlled as some are. In this case, it is legal, but not sensible.”

“This is against treatment protocols, correct?”

Now yes, this looks pretty concerning and like I might have harmed my own chances a smidge, but this session isn’t to determine whether I transitioned properly, but rather that I’m serious enough to change my government records. Not much more proof of seriousness than going at it on your own. Mister Hartley and Doctor Ward weren’t super worried that this would harm my situation.

Doctor Ward glanced in my direction before answering the judge, “While it is indeed unusual and not the traditional route, it is what helped to form my strong initial opinion that the plaintiff was mature beyond their age. They are utterly firm in their self-image and gender identity and I have no doubts that this will be the better. The plaintiff had performed their research and study, sourced the medications, and followed the best clinical protocol available to them. For a teenager, this is highly resourceful and speaks to a deep and certain need to follow this pathway. Looking at them today only further solidifies my opinion that my diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria is the correct one.”

“Your view of their future?”

“Your Honor, it is my view that with a name and gender change granted by this court and at the age of eighteen, corrective genital surgery, the plaintiff will go on to lead a fulfilling and productive life as a woman.”

Well, that’s pretty positive. I have grown to like Doctor Ward during our sessions and I was expecting as much.

Judge Carter nodded and indicated that the good Doctor could return to her seat. “I have the report here from Doctors Anderson. I will call a short recess while I retire to chambers to review the submission.”

I never mentioned that one, did I? I was a little busy with the insanity of last semester to manage to fit everything that happened.

 

 

I hate hospital waiting rooms, even today as a grown-ass Doctor. It wasn’t that they reminded me of anything, particularly bad, if anything I spent the most time in them as a child becoming who I was meant to be. No, the real reason is that they are a time paradox. When you’ve got somewhere to be, they take forever, and when you’ve nothing to do you’re in and out in no time at all. What is worse, is when you are there, if you’re listening for your name to be called, it never is. The second that you dare take a trip to the bathroom, you’ve missed it.

“Holly Winters?”

“That’s us, kiddo,” Mom nudged me from my stupor beside her.

“Huh?”

“They called us,” she prompted, gesturing at the nurse waiting down the corridor. “

I stretched and hauled myself to my feet. It was half four on a Friday and it had been a heck of a week at school. With the semester heading toward its long-awaited conclusion, and my extracurricular activities becoming more and more Rick-shaped, I was burning the candle at both ends. I swear it took more effort to pull off Alex during school hours these days than it did to get through an entire week in the past.

Don’t get me wrong, I was happier and happier with my life as it was going; I was able to spend most of my time as the real me, I had a real, honest-to-good boyfriend and I was on the countdown to full time Holly. It was pretty epic when you think about it. From a world of fear, I was emerging into a new beautiful dawn as the most derpy butterfly you can possibly imagine.

Mom had picked me up from school, so I had time to head home and change before we set off for the hospital and my date with the Endocrinologist. I’d managed a hot swap into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a cardigan. It was far from super stylish teen fashion queen, but it was all Holly so I was more than ok with it.

Why was I doing this again? Typically, when someone began medical transition, their psychiatrist would sign them off for anti-boy-otics and ship them off to a hormone doctor; an endocrinologist. This doctor checks their baseline levels of testosterone, estrogen, and general physiological and endocrinological health to ensure they’re ready for hormone treatment. Once they are, it is jabs and pill time.

Now as you well know, in my case, I skipped that bullshit and went a little nuts… whoops, I guess. But if I hadn’t, who knows if they would have even started me on hormones by now… You should see some of the crap they put trans kids through to prove they’re serious… tests and experiments they try. It’s honestly cruel.

So yes, I did put the cart before the horse… and the entire stable block. Given I’ve had bloods with Doc Harris that came back normal, this wasn’t a typical appointment, but rather a ‘for the record’ and a bit of a work backward sort of visit.

We arrived at the office and met Doctor Maya Anderson. She was a tall and pretty woman who looked to be of Samoan descent. When we entered her office, she was writing away at her computer. Upon our arrival, she stood to greet both Mom and I with professional Doctory Handshakes. It turned out she towered over both of us at something approaching six feet tall. Honestly? I felt like a midget. Looking up at another woman that much was kinda novel.

“Doctor Winters, I’ve heard really great things! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She turns to me and grins, “And this must be Holly, right?”

Mom gives my shoulder a squeeze as I stand there nervously, “Yes, this is my daughter, Holly, she’s your victim today.”

Doctor Anderson laughed. It was no feminine giggle, but rather a big warm belly laugh. It somewhat caught me off guard at her casual nature. “Fantastic! Well, it’s good to meet you, little lady. Let’s get down to business, shall we? There’s a gown behind the curtain on the bed, get naked girl, and give us a holler when you’re done.”

This was new. I have certainly never experienced a bedside manner this… casual. “Uh, ok,” I mutter placidly as I slink off to do as directed, feeling a little blindsided by her blunt happiness. At the time, it was super weird and uncomfortable, but I didn’t realize until much later that she was totally disarming all my fears by being as weird as she was. Her utter… disregard for the unusual nature of the situation really helped.

Behind the curtain, I found a classic paper hospital gown folded neatly on the exam table. With a resigned sigh, I set about getting out of my clothes and into the perpetually insufficient garment.

Seriously, who did they ever design these for? They fit nobody, never close properly, and are just plain embarrassing; clothing by committee. On the other side of said curtain, Mom and Anderson are having a real chucklefest as they talk shop about hospital matters. I’m glad they’re happy at least; they’re not the ones in the stupid paper frock.

Once I’m done, I slip back through the curtain and cough politely to acquire their attention.

Doctor Anderson turns around and nods approvingly, “Fantastic! Step one is done; now let's have you hop on the scales and we can get your height and weight before I steal any of your blood, eh?”

I follow instructions and step onto the scales. Doc Anderson flitters around noting down numbers and starts messing with the attached height gismo attached to the wall. “Hmm, so we’ve got one hundred and fifteen pounds and… Five feet five and a half inches tall. Little light for your height there kiddo.”

“I do eat,” I offer. “Quite a lot.”

“She does,” Mom agrees from her chair with a sly smirk. “Eats me out of house and home.”

“You’ll cherish that metabolism for as long as you have it… many girls would be jealous.”

“I think I’ve got bigger problems before they’re jealous of my metabolism.”

Doc Anderson makes a few more notes before looking up and giving me a grin, “I didn’t just mean your metabolism, I mean you’re a very pretty girl. I’m sure they’ll have a few reasons to be jealous.”

I turn to Mom, and stage whisper, “She’s aware of why I’m here, right?”

“Oh I know why you’re here,” Doctor Anderson replies. “You’re not my first transgender patient, but you are the youngest and a colleague’s daughter. I don’t think your Mother will complain if I tell her she has a very pretty daughter.”

“I won’t complain at all,” Mom agrees. “But can you make her tidy up after herself?”

Doctor Anderson’s expression suddenly becomes far more serious. “I’m afraid not, Veronica. From what we can tell, that’s a direct result of estrogen; no teenage girl is capable of actually doing what her mother asks the first time.”

Mom snorts and I huff. I will admit, I love Doctor Anderson’s bedside manner but I don’t half feel like the butt of the joke… though admittedly it’s a teenage daughter joke… so that’s good… bah, I want to be more mad but I can’t!

“Pop yourself back on the exam table and I’ll go grab my vampire kit, ok?”

I follow instructions and sit patiently on the exam table like a good girl while Doctor Weird wanders off to find her extraction pump.

“So,” she asks conversationally while digging around in a cupboard, “I hear that you’ve been going to school as a boy still? Is that right?”

“Uh, yep. Still am,” I admit somewhat sheepishly. I mean, what do you say? This woman is so utterly casual about all of this that I don’t quite know what’s normal anymore.

“Wow, I’m rather impressed you can manage that. How can they not see the stunner amongst them?” she asks, approaching with a small metal tray with vials and vampire equipment. “Right arm please.”

I hand over the appendage in question, “I’ve got no idea at all. People see what they want to see, apparently, they’re blind.”

“That they do,” she nodded sagely. “So what’s your plan, girly girl?”

She wraps up my arm and finds a vein expertly before sinking the needle in one smooth motion. I winced slightly and tried to keep my arm still as she drew samples. “I’m supposed to transfer to my school’s girls’ division in January.”

Not before time,” she agrees, smoothly withdrawing the needle and exchanging it for a cotton ball. “All done, hold that for me for a second.”

She labeled the vials and scribbled on an envelope before popping the samples inside. “I’ll have these off to the lab today, so we should get results back in a day or two. You had bloods run by your family doctor, right?”

“Yes, we did,” Mom agreed. “Her levels were reportedly normal range at the time.”

“It’s a shame we don’t have a baseline, but if her levels are still normal I can work with her existing regimen. I am rather impressed, young lady, by the way.”

Gerk, caught.

“I didn’t really feel like I had a choice,” I muttered sheepishly.

“It’s not the normal routine. You know how dangerous it is to do this without any kind of medical supervision?”

“I’m aware,” I concede humbly. “I was desperate and I was utterly convinced that nobody would help me…” I glance over at Mom, knowing that my own fear overrode my trust in the woman who had always believed in me. Overrode the trust and faith I should have had in my parents who never once showed me a reason to distrust them. “I thought I was alone and running out of time.”

“You wouldn’t be the first, honey,” Doctor Anderson smiles gently. “You are one of the very few who solved it yourself at your young age; I’m honestly rather impressed. Your dosages were bang on the numbers for what I would be using for you.”

Doctor Anderson’s face became more serious, “I need to do a quick physical exam, is that ok sweetheart? I know this is going to be difficult for you, but I do need to check you over for my notes.”

I swallowed and nodded, “I understand.”

“Do you want Mom to leave?”

I looked over at Mom and shook my head, “She can… I mean… I want her to stay.”

“Are you sure, darling?” Mom asked. Her expression was serious and I could tell that she knew how embarrassing this was for me.

“I am,” I assert seriously. “You’re my mother; I shouldn’t be embarrassed about you seeing me, you gave birth to me. Ok, sure it wasn’t in this configuration, but still…”

She stepped over and hugged me tightly, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Glancing over at Doctor Anderson I shrugged, “Right now?”

“If you’d like to stand up and unfasten the gown and remove it, please.”

I did as instructed and unfastened the gown with shaking fingers. Mom has seen me topless, she’s seen me in my underwear… she even changed my diapers as a baby, but it doesn’t prepare me to be nude in front of her as broken as I am.

You have to understand that once I got older and had surgery, I felt fine with nudity around my mother. At that point, it was pretty unremarkable if and when it occurred. Technically, as a child, I was ok with it too, but I was too small to really feel as bad as I did. I suppose at the time I looked… normal. At this time in my life, stuck halfway between two worlds, I felt more wrong than you can possibly imagine…

I let the gown slide down my arms and collected it in one hand before placing it beside me on the exam table. Keeping my eyes fixed on a spot on the far wall, I stood, and followed Doctor Anderson’s instructions robotically; turn, lift my arms, etcetera. Once she was done, she handed me the gown with a polite and apologetic smile. Once I was finally modest again, I glanced over at my mother and for the first time, saw that she understood.

For the first time, my mother truly witnessed the pain in my eyes, the conflict in my heart and the dichotomy of my existence. We never spoke of that day, we never discussed that point, but she understood how I felt. She had long accepted that I was her daughter, but it was that very day when she realized that she had a little girl with a problem; a problem that needed to be fixed.

 

 

“All rise.”

The Judge returned to the courtroom and took his seat once more.

Judge Carter shuffled his documents and nodded. “I have reviewed the report submitted by Doctor Anderson, the Endocrinologist, next… Doctor Harris, the primary care physician, are you present?”

“Your Honor,” Harris stood.

I had known Doctor Tony Harris since I was a tiny bundle of joy in my mother’s arms. I told you that he and Mom had known each other since medical school, right? It was only logical that she trusted her family’s health to one of her oldest friends.

Being that I had such a relationship, his testimony was honestly pretty uninteresting as far as stories go; yes, I’m the plaintiff’s doctor, yep, they’re confirmed to be human, have a pulse and a normal amount of toes. He’s no gender expert, so his opinion was limited to ‘yup, looks like a chick now, wasn’t born as one, probably should be though.’

I suppose even to this day I still have a soft spot for Tony Harris; he was the first adult that I entrusted with my secret. He was the one that kept my confidence and acted with my interests in mind. I know that he had been tipped off by Mom, but it’s still the thought that counts. When I needed a doctor, he was there for me.

“Next, I would like to hear from… I believe the teacher, yes….” Carter murmured, “Jennifer Whistler?”

Honestly, even though the semester has only been over a few weeks, I already miss her a lot.

My former German teacher took the stand and was sworn in to tell die Wahrheit und nichts als die Wahrheit. Do you see what I did there? It probably doesn’t work in German.

“Mrs Whistler, you are one of the plaintiff’s teachers at Elsworth Academy, yes?”

“Former, Your Honor,” Frau Whistler corrected. “Yes, I taught the plaintiff in German language class for the past three years.”

“You are more aware of their status than the school informing you I am led to believe?”

Oh boy, understatement of the century.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Jenny Whistler agreed. “I was first made aware of the plaintiff’s status when the school informed me, however, I had some… suspicions before that point. I spoke with the plaintiff after this point and became a confidant for her… them.”

“Suspicions?”

Heh, yeah… whoops.

“Sh…they behaved differently to my other students, Your Honor. Physically and vocally she had not progressed with her…their, classmates.”

“Due to the hormones?”

“I suspect so, Your Honor.”

“Anything else?”

“I did get a chance to see them outside of a classroom environment most weeks at sporting events on campus. The plaintiff was often in the company of female friends and very little about them was different.”

I really didn’t watch myself on that one… such a dumbass.

“Has this impacted their scholastic performance?”

Frau Whistler smiled at me apologetically before returning her gaze to the judge. “Yes, Your Honor, but in a positive manner. Last year it was quite clear that she… they were experiencing major problems in their personal life, depression, I believe. Her work did suffer and I did my best to help but being unaware of the problem at the time, it didn’t help much. As she came to terms with… as they came to terms with themselves, sorry! It was clear that this reflected as an improvement in their work. After they came out to their parents and began to live outside of school as herself, her work improved significantly.”

“So academically this has not interfered?”

“Your Honor, she’s blossomed.”

“Thank you, Mrs Whistler, finally, I believe in the information here you were present on a school trip where Mister Winters… came out publicly?”

Oh boy.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Frau Whistler grinned (I’m glad I amuse her.) “She was attempting to attend the field trip to Germany as a boy, however… she… if you excuse my informality, really sucked at it.”

“She…he… sucked at it?” The judge queried.

“She barely looked like a boy and was fooling nobody,” Frau Whistler chuckled. “She made it about half the week before that all fell apart. The thing was, from the very beginning of the week she was socialising with the other girls and generally indistinguishable. She’s wasted as a boy.”

“Thank you Mrs Whistler,” The judge offered, raising his eyebrows. “You may take your seat, next, I would like to call the Mother, Doctor Winters, next please.”

Gulp.

Mom stood and made her way up to the witness stand and did the swearing-in business that they love to make everyone do. It’s not like it’s stopped perjury before, but hey, it makes them feel better.

“Doctor Veronica Winters, Alexander is your youngest child, yes?”

“My child was named Alexander Michael Winters at birth, yes.”

Oh, get ‘em, Mom, I’m already liking this angle.

Judge Carter nodded and smiled. “Would you give me your impression of your child’s situation, as both a physician and a parent, please?”

Mom smiled thinly, it was a look I recognized almost immediately, the one she reserved for stupid questions. “While legally the plaintiff, my child, is known by their birth name of Alexander Michael Winters, I only know my child as Holly Juliette Winters, my daughter as is petitioned to the court.”

“From an early age, it was clear that my youngest child had more in common with my eldest daughter Christine. She, and for the record, I can only refer to the plaintiff by these pronouns, displayed a consistent personality over her juvenile development. She never displayed signs of mental illness or other comorbid conditions in parallel. She did however suffer depression that we came to understand was caused by her gender dysphoria.”

“I see, is that viewed as a physician or a parent?”

“I am both, Your Honor,” Mom smiled politely in her ‘I already answered you’ manner.

“Your husband and you both support your child’s transition?”

“Yes, Your Honor” Mom flatly replied. “We fully support our daughter’s transition. She has the entire family’s support, without reservation.”

“Very good,” Carter nodded. “Speaking purely as a physician, I would like your opinion on the self-medication issue, it’s bothering me a little. It concerns me that it was an act of impatience and avoiding the system, no?”

Gerk.

“The very opposite, Your Honor,” Mom countered without a pause. “While it wasn’t something we knew about, I believe it was an act of desperation on the part of a child terrified by a world that opposes her very existence. Without knowledge of how we would respond, she made plans to protect herself and planned for a future where she had adult independence to make long-sighted decisions about her life. My child, in the height of depression and darkness, chose to take carefully considered action that took more courage and thought than merely coming out and hoping for the best.”

She glanced at Dad out in the gallery and smiled. “Our child was scared and alone and she took steps to protect herself. She used good judgment, excellent research, and caution beyond her years. While it was unconventional, it showed her maturity and good sense.”

“Is that as a parent or a physician, Doctor Winters?”

Mom glanced at me and smiled, “Both, Your Honor.”

“Clarify that for me?”

“I cannot give you separate statements as a physician and a parent because I am both. In this instance, however, I am speaking purely as a parent who happens to be a physician; my child is not my patient, nor should she be. My child is suffering from a medical problem, plain and simple. We have the correct treatment path and protocol and so far, it has been extremely effective. What we need is to proceed to the logical conclusion, and she can have a better quality of life.”

Aww… Mom, I love you.

“Succinctly put,” the judge nodded. “Thank you, Doctor Winters.”

After he was done with Mom, the judge called Dad up to the stand. I know my father hasn’t featured particularly heavily in this story, but that’s not a statement of his love for me. Kids typically are closer to one parent or another, and in my case, my relationship with my mother was always just a little bit closer. I wonder why that is… it just totally escapes me.

Rob was always super tight with Dad and the two did things together all the time. Dad has always been somewhat of a classic guy; reserved, quiet, and masculine. I suspect a part of that is his work; being in the Defense and Aviation industry he’s learned to be very selective with his words. I love my Dad; he’s a wonderful father and I know he loves us all so very much.

Honestly, I feel more guilty that I couldn’t be his son. I know he’s told me so many times that I am his daughter and that he loves me, but it doesn’t take the guilt away. I am not Alex… and today, in a way, is the final goodbye for his son, his son that carried his name; Michael. He might not feel guilt, but I do. In some small way, He and Mom welcomed a third child; a baby boy. A baby that they one day expected to become a man.

I don’t often feel conflicted about my journey, but it is little moments like this where I cannot help but feel a somewhat melancholy about the effect of my decisions. Naturally, who I am and the act of becoming myself were never a choice, but how, when and where absolutely were. I was limited by my ability to survive much longer, that is true. The fact is, I do feel guilty about putting this pressure on my family.

“Mister Winters, do you support what your wife has declared with regard to your child’s name and status change?”

Dad glanced over at me and winked. “Yes, Your Honor. We are both in agreement on this matter and we both support our daughter fully and without reservation.”

“Excellent,” The judge nodded. “You may return to your seat. I would request the Plaintiff stand.”

Dad returned to his spot in the gallery behind me and I stood, straightening my skirt and fidgeting somewhat nervously.

“Mister Alexander Winters, it is my pleasure to inform you that it is my judgment that your petition to change name and status be granted. From this point forward you will be legally allowed to refer to yourself as Holly Juliette Winters and be considered female in the eyes of the law.”

Wow, lump in throat, avoid screaming…

“Thank you, Your Honor,” I offered, unable to stop myself smiling broadly. “Thank you.”

Judge Carter smiled back at me, “The road ahead of you is far from simple, but I believe you are an intelligent and considerate young woman, I am sure you will navigate it well.”

“I will do my best, Your Honor.”

Hartley stood and gestured toward me as he addressed the judge. “Your Honor, we would request that these proceedings be sealed due to the plaintiff’s status as a minor.”

Carter raised an eyebrow. “I believe the plaintiff is still attending the same high school, yes? At the Elsworth Academy?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Won’t they already know?”

Hartley smiled, “Your Honor, It isn’t about the now, rather, it is about the future. The plaintiff is a high school student and will soon graduate. As such, she is going to be entering a different world in a year and a half where her past will be broadly unknown unless she chooses to divulge it. Her status will fade and as such, it would benefit her to exist without potential prejudice in a world that is as yet not entirely tolerant.”

Carter glanced over at me for a moment before looking back at our attorney. “Granted, Mister Hartley. The proceedings today will be sealed court record.”

“I would assume we can waive the requirement for publication due to age and status, Your Honor?”

Judge Carter nodded, “So waived.”

And that was that… I turned around and hugged Mom and Dad, Chrissie and Rob. I was legally me; Holly Juliette Winters. I was a girl, their sister, daughter and general female relative. I know it was a piece of paper, a court declaration that changed very little on the surface, but to me, it was a massive difference.

As far as the law was concerned, I was no longer Alexander Michael Winters, male. To me, that made all the difference in the universe. Sure, I had no intention to go to jail, but weirder things have happened in this world. Plus, if I knew Tina Booth for any length of time that potential rose rather significantly.

On the positive, however, it did mean that I could attend the Girls’ Division, graduate as a legal female student, and get my driver's license and passport changed. I could get married… to a man, as a wife; that was the truth of the matter. Ok, sure some of these like school didn’t require the paperwork per se, but it really helped to tie things up and finish off Alex.

Hugging my family in that courtroom felt like a final hurdle had been crossed in my world. Sure, I would still have to wait for surgery, but I was now able to really live. Holly was a people now, and people got to do stuff. This would just stop other randos from deciding I was worth a pounding. I was for sure expecting that at school.

Mom gripped my hand and squeezed, “Come, Daughter, let’s go home. You might be legal now, but there are still chores to do.”

Ugh, why me.

 

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