(Aryalat’s notes: I had this dream in the night between the 6^th and 7^th of January, and it woke me up at around 5AM crying. Not fun.)

The story of this dream occurs over the course of five consecutive years, in a summer camp/boarding school type of setting. For some reason, every year people forget about me, not about each other, and each year I join the same group of friends, three boys and one girl. Somehow, I’m the only person aware of this effect, and I also happened to expect it from the beginning.

The first year was when I met them, we were all 12. Sadly, I remember little from the first, second and third years, only vague images of looking like a boy and doing typical childhood group adventures: one year we found treasure on the grass yard, another we fought the administration to rehabilitate the pool with the help of one of the teachers (although we needed to do the digging through the mud accumulated there)…

Then the fourth year came, we were all 15. I was once again the new kid, as no one remembered me. I started the year once again looking like a boy. As always, I tried to make friends with the regular group, being the fourth time it was quite easy. But this year something was different. During the year, I had realized that I was a trans woman, but my family was not supportive, so I could not do anything about it. But here, away from them and with a nice group of friends, I could try to do something about it. I decided to tell everyone, and socially transition. They were going to forget anyway.

It was a great summer, everyone was calling me by my chosen name, I had a wig so I could look nice with long hair, some of the girls were lending me some of their clothing, and I looked nicely, passing, and was happy as a girl. That was a wonderful summer, but eventually it ended and like all the previous years, they forgot about me. I once again had to hide myself for the rest of the year, so I was pretty sad.

The fifth year came, and once again I came in looking like a boy. I was in my room, alone, unpacking my suitcase as I decided what to do this last time to introduce myself to my friends and transition again, when someone knocked on the door. It was one of my friends, one of the guys, that came looking for me: he had something to tell me.

He entered and closed the door. He told me that there had been something very strange happening during this year, but after catching a glance of me he knew I must have known something. He had been having strange dreams, similar to things that he remembered happening but something was not right. He could for some reason remember all the details as if it was a picture, so he had been able to draw what he had been dreaming about.

He opened a sketchbook, and showed me the first image: us five, as we were in our first year, with our beloved teacher behind us, as if it was a picture someone had taken. He asked me if I was the one in the picture he could not recognize, and I could only admit that it seemed like it. There was another drawing, us as 13 year olds. And another, as 14 year olds. The problem came with the fourth picture: once again a picture of us, but there was another girl there. Me, in my passing, social transition look. I was just there, making a friendly pose with the other girl in the group. He asked me, quite seriously, if that was also me. It was undeniable that it looked like a girl version of me, so I could only nod as a response, completely unsure of what to say.

There was a final image he wanted to show me. It was the same people, but seemingly in the future, around our thirties. I was undeniably a woman in that one, and it was clear it was me, as I resembled the 15-year-old version of myself. I was completely speechless, as he looked at me asking for answers about all this. After taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth to start explaining when we both heard a voice behind us. The girl in our friend group, she had snuck in on us after coming to find our friend for lunch. She had looked over my shoulder, and had seen the fourth picture. She asked our friend if he had painted it, he nodded in response, and she said that we looked super good. She was quite confused when she saw the other girl, though, before she looked at me, then at her again, then at me again… and then pointed at me and her mouth gaped.

Now they were both looking for answers, so I decided to just gather everyone in the picture and tell them all at the same time. As we went down to have lunch, people here and there were saying hi to me using my chosen name, then getting confused for a second because I never told them as far as they knew, and it was a girl’s name. Eventually, we reached the lunch hall and we sat with the rest of the group, their faces with visible confusion. I called over my teacher, who also happened to know me by my chosen name somehow, and I started talking.

I grabbed the sketchbook and went one by one showing them the pictures, explaining that we knew each other from each and every year, but that they forgot every time. I used many details so they would believe me, even if I was quite worried it would not happen. Talking about the previous year, I told them about my transition and my name and everything, even explaining which of the girls had lent me which of the items in the drawing.

After my explanation, I just looked down as they stared with a blank look. After some eternal seconds, my girl friend grabbed my hand, looked me in the eyes and told me “welcome back, [chosen name]” with a smile. I started crying, and I woke up.