Chapter 8: A New Friend

 

"I wasn't traumatized or abused growing up. I had a totally normal childhood. I got bullied, sure, but I was kind of a loser, so it made sense. I was really, really autistic. I'd just walk around the playground daydreaming to myself like a weirdo. I don't blame my bullies anymore. If I hadn't have made myself such an easy target in the first place, it wouldn't have been as bad as it was. I didn't even go through a divorce or anything serious like that, and every kid I knew growing up had divorced parents. God, I think I even used it against one of my bullies once to try and get back at him. I was such a piece of shit, honestly. I was so fucking angry all the time. And in the end, I usually just got ignored a lot, not like, directly bullied. Whining about some old childhood stuff just makes me feel like I'm fishing for pity, too. Most of my friends have had, like, actual traumas. Real horrible stuff. It hurts me just thinking about it sometimes. There's no reason to try and suck the air out of the room with me complaining about the same sob story from when I was 8 that I can barely fucking remember anyways. Everything's jumbled and vague, that it barely matters at all. I was just a loser and still am and that's not that big of a deal. It just means I'm not trans. I have no excuse to be this way other than being a loser. It's important to know when to get over something, right?" 

“And how's that been working out for you? Are you getting over it?” Ramona replied almost instantly, seemingly unphased by Sophia's impressively deep and complex coping mechanisms.

“Huh?”

“This whole bullshit self-deprecating mentality you're doing right now. Are you just going to do that forever?”

That's all she has to say!? 

"I’m not being self-deprecating if I’m just telling the truth! It's just the truth. It's a purely rational objective observation of myself. It's so obvious that I'm a loser. I mean, I don't know what to do! Everyone asks me what I'm going to do and I don't know. I'm useless. I don't fucking know what to do. The things I want to do are too impossible and the things I don't want to do are, just, everything, everything there is, I don't want to do it. I never really wanted to do anything at all. I went through how many years of school, four years of college - I got a fucking degree! - and the entire time, I was just praying, hoping to God, that my parents wouldn't pry too much and realize that I wasn't doing fucking anything, that I had no plans, that I wasn't doing anything for any future career. I wasn't talking to any counselors, I wasn't networking or some shit, I didn't go to any clubs, or parties, I didn't make a single fucking friend, I just kept plugging away, essay after essay, semester after semester, hoping nobody would notice it was all a cover. It was all fake! I was a fake. I didn't care at all! Every family fucking get-together, all the cousins and shit, all they'd ever talk about is, ‘Oh, what are you doing in coooolllllege?’ It felt like a constant interrogation session, for years! Just constantly pretending, hiding..."

Holy shit. I really gotta shut the fuck up. This is just a rant. I sound so cringe. 

"The only thing I remember even doing is agonizing, year after year, trying to work up the courage to get a counselor appointment to somehow get fucking HRT. It's the only way I could figure out how to do it without my family finding out. I didn't even know how that was going to work but that's all I could think about! If I could just talk to anyone, about fucking anything, that somehow, I'd be able to get fucking hormones, somehow! Just a drop! Just a few pills! Just anything, anything! Just to try it! It's all I could think about ever since I read online that they actually exist! In the real world, not just in fucking stories! Hormones were the only thing I remember even being excited over, for four fucking years. Those fucking pills! And I didn't do shit the whole time! I was never able to make that phone call! Or walk into that office room! I didn't do anything! And now that I finally have them, what the fuck am I doing now?"

I’m oversharing. Why do I assume this stranger gives half a shit? Am I that fucking arrogant? I'm so disgusting. She's not going to want to be friends with me after this. But I can't seem to stop myself.

"I've never even been suicidal! I've never tried to honestly kill myself. I've never even self-harmed! I've never cut myself. I've never even had an eating disorder. You're supposed to have those growing up trans! I've never intentionally harmed myself, I always felt like too much of a pussy, like my fucking balls would retract even thinking about hurting myself and I'd wince and cringe in pain, like watching some horrible evil awful video of someone breaking their neck skateboarding or some shit that the other fucking boys would watch in class and laugh over. I hated them so much. I was too autistic to even be aware of my body, so how the fuck can I even think I'm dysphoric over it? Look at my fucking arms - no scars! My friends can't say that about theirs. My alcoholic suicidal friends gotta wear long sleeves to hide themselves in, to cover themselves up even when it's so hot outside. What am I hiding with this fucking sweater? The sacks of fat I'm growing because it gets me off? They're actually going through shit, they've been abused, they've been raped, they've gone through actual shit. Who the fuck am I? Pitying myself like a fucking loser? Begging for sympathy from a stranger on the street? Telling myself, Oh, oh you deserve better, take it easy Nick, what do I fucking deserve? My friends deserve the world. I should throw myself off this fucking bridge right the fuck now."

This doesn't even feel like my internal dialogue anymore...Whose voice is this? It sounds too stupid to be me, it can't be me.

God, I can't believe I lost my only chance at a real life cool trans friend. Embarrassing. Humiliating. 

Ramona just stared for moment, pointed to Sophia's head, and said "You got a lotta things going on in there, don't you?"

"No. Nothing at all," she sighed, tapping her skull with her fingers. "It's all empty up here. Sorry. I overshared and stuff. That's bad. It's a bad trait. That was embarrassing. That was humiliating."

Ramona just smiled, like a soft moon light, "Don't worry, I didn't hear a thing. Remember? The river took it all in for you. Washed it all away. So, do you feel better? Do you feel like you got it all out of your system?"

She patted Sophia on the back, who didn't flinch away this time.

"...No. I feel like that was, only like, one percent of what I got in me. It makes so much more sense when I repeat it in my head, but when it came out of my mouth it sounds really stupid. I swear it sounds way smarter in my head. It makes sense if you really looked at it my way. I want another go."

"How about you save it for your roommates?"

Sophia just stared at her in silence, furrowing her brow. 

"I'd normally never push anyone to come out if they don't feel safe. But from how you look right now, there's no way they don't already know something. Trust me. And it sounds like whatever might happen from the fallout wouldn't be any worse from you keeping it bottled up inside. This 'boymoding' shit you're doing, it's just another layer of repression, can't you see? It's not healthy. At least you're on fucking hormones, thank fuck. You're already leagues ahead so many others."

"But..." Sophia said, taking a breath. The air's gotten even colder as the night's grown longer, after her childish screaming session. "I don't want to. I can't. I don't want to come out."

Not with my parents. Never with them.

My friends, though...maybe, my friends...

"It's up to you, sweetie. Just think of me when you do it, kay? So it if goes bad, you can blame it all on me. I'll take that burden for a cutie like yourself. Pinky swear. Mental pinky swear."

Cutie...

"It's just that...'coming out'...that's such a, like, 'LGBT thing' to do...and I'm just not that. Maybe it makes sense for you. You're all, like, queer and stuff. You were probably in the gay clubs at school or whatever. I'm just a confused guy. A dude. I didn't even know gays existed growing up. I just have really weird daydreams, and stuff. If you knew what was in my head, you'd call me a freak. You wouldn't want anything to do with me."

"Do you honestly think anything going on in that head of yours is new to me, kid?"

"Yes, yes I do. I'm not whoever you think I am. I'll be honest, Ramona. I'm really sorry. You're the one who creeped up on me but now I'm creeping you out. Just screaming out like this. I've never told any living soul 99 percent of that shit before."

Sophia let out a deep breath. It almost, just barely, manifested as a water vapor cloud.

She turned to Ramona, staring at her feet, saying "You scared me at first but you're actually a pretty cool person, you know. You're really like, I don't know... magnetic. You're super, cool. If I had met you in high school I would've probably followed you around like a fanboy."

She was oversharing again. You're not supposed to tell people these kinds of private, embarrassing feelings. Exposing your vulnerable weak points. It just leaves an opening for people to hurt you. Take heed of what warning. 

"A fangirl, you mean. And ohhhh, am I getting some celebrity attention right now? Oh, it feels so nice, thank you, thank you..." Ramona said, mock-fanning her face. "And you were a fan of my kinda style, huh? Have you ever thought of trying it yourself?"

Yeah.

"Nah, I don't think it'd suit me...I'm already doing something insane here. Impossible. Crazy."

Sophia was practically destroying her phone case in manic nervous fidgeting again, and starting to pant like she was running a stand-still marathon. 

"Just relax. To be honest, you're giving me nostalgia from how I used to be before I made some trans friends too. Maybe I'll even invite you to my get-togethers sometime. We could help you with your hair...hell, when's the last time you even got a haircut?"

"I've been, uh, trying," Sophia contemplated her hair, stroking along it's length along her jawline - the longest it's ever been, as far as she remembers. "I've been trying to grow it out...so..."

Sophia suddenly realized she had just been invited to get-togethers. Of trans people. Nightmare.

"Ah, wait no, I could never meet more trans people, I can't even watch documentaries or videos about that stuff. My whole body tenses up. I have to scroll down. Maybe just listen to the audio alone. Whether they look good or bad, it doesn’t make a difference."

"Like you feel a cis person watching you over your shoulder?"

Sophia stared at the pavement. She was so right. "Yeah. Yeah a bit. Like, wanting to run away from the television, when the movie your whole family's watching suddenly has some drag queen joke in it..."

Ramona laughed. It was guttural, and sounded more like a guy's than a girl's.

"But also, like, I'm embarrassed...I start thinking like, 'Oh god, they're a...tranny. Am I like that?’"

"Hey, listen - I know you probably say that T word a lot to yourself, but the more you think it, the more it's gonna seep into you. Worm it's way into your brain. I can tell you already have some in there. Little wriggling worms," she said, as she wiggled her index finger across her forehead. Sophia caught sight of her black nailpolish even clearer this time, as well as a wrinkle or two formed on her forehead, underneath a parted wavy shoulder-length haircut, adorned with blue highlights that have long since started to fade. When's the last time she got a haircut?

Sophia suddenly realized that if someone like Ramona did count as a real woman, her conversation tonight would've been the longest time she's ever spent just talking with a woman in any real genuine intimate capacity. 

Does this count as...female socialization? Can I obtain that from just doing this? Is it the same? 

"Listen, kid, I gotta go. But let me tell you something - when you walked in that McD's, I literally thought you were a girl. Just a normal girl, dressed in your boyfriends clothes or something, maybe after a night of fun together. And yes, I mean sex. Hopefully your roommates treat you alright. I mean, do they seriously not even know? About you, at all? Because you boymoding like this is literally a crime. You're committing a crime upon the world. I mean, this shit world deserves nothing good for itself, but you're still doing something immoral by depriving the world of a wonderful girl like yourself. There's a million trans girls out there in the world who would kill to look like you, too. You're wasting your womanhood away, and you're not getting any younger."

Sophia was genuinely speechless, for at least 2 or maybe 3 small moments.

"Me trying to be more feminine is like dividing by zero."

These words came out of Sophia's mouth without her even realizing it. She didn't really know who actually said them.

"Shut up," Ramona insisted.

Sophia winced. Sophia wasn't used to such direct admonishment, even though it wasn't meant to be barbed. 

"Boymoding is healthier. It's safer. It's better this way. It allows me to grow in safety. Like... a cocoon."

"Like a what now? That's so autistic, you realize that, right? Listen, you're not going to grow if you're trapped in a cage. You'll stunt your growth. Like fresh titties trapped in a binder. You're scared, that's okay. I'm scared too, almost every day. We need to stay safe from the world, people like us. But if we're scared all the time, then we won't be able to help each other when we need it most, right? If we're too scared to help our friends, then what even are we? Bitches and bastards. So don't make excuses for it. Just tell it like it is."

Sophia started shaking.

"I don't want to...want to embarrass myself. There are so many cases of people, they come out, they start...wearing dresses, or shouting that they're women. Wearing fucking wigs. They haven't even started estrogen yet. How? How can they not want estrogen? Why wouldn't that be the first thing they try and get!? It's all I could ever fucking think about! Why come out first? Why embarrass themselves and look like a freak? They don't even shave! You've seen them on tv, on the internet. There's even one in this town, maybe you've seen her, but she, or uh, they -"

"Do you hate yourself, though? Maybe you hate other people like you, but are you ashamed of your very own self? Your own reflection in the mirror? Do you think you’re a freak?"

Sophia just went wide eyed. Silence. Isn't it obvious?

After a timed dramatic pause, Ramona continued, “Do you think I’m a freak?”

“No!” Sophia said, without hesitation.

"Then let's share contacts. Don't be shy, okay? Text me sometime, let’s be friends. What name should I enter you under, by the by?"

"Uh...Nick, please."

"That's not your real name, though, is it? Isn't that your deadname?"

Sophia was a little ticked by these comments of hers, and just sighed. She was still wary that Ramona was some...SJW. Giving out overly-validating slogan phrases to every valid critical issue a trans person may have to their transition and experience. Just saying "You're a girl!" over and over again doesn't make it true.

"It's my working name."

"Do you have any picked out yet at all?"

"Isn't that weird, though? To pick out your own name? Normal people don't do that. Isn't it a bit too selfish? I think I'd like a name that was chosen for me, like a normal name is for normal people, instead of one I would pick for myself then just get bored of later, like a bad tattoo."

Sophia was too embarrassed to say that she'd had Ramona as one possible name choice for a while now. She'd have to cross that one off the list.

"God you really are autistic. You don't have to be like everyone else, you know. You can be even better than normal. You can be different."

Sophia deftly turned away from Ramona's line of sight, and ever-so-slightly rolled her eyes.

Ramona didn't seem to notice, and continued regardless, "Well, I won't choose one for you, so I'll just put you in my contacts as 'a new friend'. That's fine, right? You don't gotta roll your eyes at that too, okay. I like cheesy things."

She must have a third eye...

Sophia's heart suddenly warmed a bit, though. Do people really just...make friends like this? Is this what normal people get to do? If she'd transitioned during school, would she have been able to make friends, and go to parties, and be normal, too?

As Ramona was entering in a new contact, she asked with a raise of her eyebrow, "Oh yeah, one more thing - are you with anyone special? And I’m not flirting, honest! For real! I'm just curious.”

Sophia wasn't so sure about that. "Um. I do have someone, I guess..." she said, referring to Chad, who exists mostly in her phone. They did go on a date, didn't they? Was that even real? She had to set up another one sometime soon.

"Oh? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Um. A..."

She hesitated.

"A, g-u-y," she whispered out, in the tiniest mousiest of mutters.

Gay. Gay. Gay..

"Ohhhh! A GUY! Is he cute?"

That's not okay.

"Y-Yeah...he's...he's really tall and stuff, aha. We only went on one date though..."

What words are coming out of my mouth?

Sophia's mouth carelessly motored on, however, "He's probably seeing other girls on the side. Real girls. Maybe. He's a little weird, you know. He's into trannies - I mean, uh, trans girls, after all, and no normal dude is ever into trannies. Trans girls. I think I gotta be trying harder, I haven't even messaged him today."

Ramona squealed, "You're like a schoolgirl! You've never been in a relationship have you? Have you ever had a boyfriend before? Was it that tall dude you walked in together with the other night? And is this the fucking 'freaky fantasies' you were referring to? Normie girlfriend shit? Just like I said before, you are normal. You're so normal."

Normal...Normal...Normal...

"It's absolutely not John! It's just some dude I met online," Sophia yelled in embarrassment, before slowly cranking down to another whisper - "And you're the one squealing! It's in the middle of the night, this is a bad neighborhood, you know?"

"Is it? I mean, I do live here, so I guess it must be pretty...dangerous! Like you were thinking of me, right?"

Ramona suddenly attempted tickling Sophia. Being a lifelong victim of such horrific attacks, Sophia deftly dodged the weak-willed offensive.

Why is she so touchy? Is this how confident people are all like? Could I be an extrovert like this if I girlmode? Could I hug and touch my friends when I felt like it? Could I be active and fun? Could I feel other people's warmth? 

“And no, I didn’t really used to like guys. I never had a boyfriend. I was definitely into girls. I tried really hard to get a girlfriend in high school. I was a normal guy."

“A coooool girlfriend, like me? One you admired from afar but we're too afraid to ever speak to?"

Sophia was a little embarrassed, because she was right. 

“Like, were you really into girls? I mean, like, how many times have you thought about fucking one?”

“EXCUSE ME!?” Sophia screamed out - in retaliation, in defiance, in rebellion.

(The answer was zero.)

“I wasn’t uh, confident enough for that. I was a feminist. It would be wrong to think about that stuff about all the girls I liked without their consent."

"That's the most autistic thing I've ever heard, girl. Did you even have lesbian fantasies? Rubbing up against another woman like yourself? Skin on skin?”

Shiver.

“No, I had crushes, I really wanted a girlfriend, but…”

“No!? So you were always tooootally into guys then!”

Blush.

“Absolutely fucking not. It was really really confusing for me. It was terrifying! Being a teenager was a fucking nightmare. I didn't understand anything. Everything was so confusing. And I'm not going to talk about it here...”

“Well that’s how sexuality is sometimes. You're so fun to tease, you know."

Ramona suddenly turned to face Sophia, stopped her with her arm, and stared into her eyes. 

"So, how about a little test? I want you to kiss me as hard as you can."

Sophia saw the deep blue abyss in her eyes once more, before blurting out with a little laugh -

"N...No! I'm sorry. That's not even funny!"

"Aha. Well, that's a good test. No true woman-lover can resist a girl like me. So you must be straight for sure." 

Sophia's never been that close to a woman's face before. She could even feel Ramona's breath. Was that sexual harassment? Is this normal too? 

Ramona gave her a wink, turned around, and waved her hand in the air with a loose, graceful flick of the wrist. "Talk to ya later!", she said while walking away. "Message me how it goes, 'kay? If it goes bad, just come stay with me!"

This was probably the most bizarre human encounter Sophia's ever had in her lifetime. She couldn't really properly process any of it just yet. What she could think about, however, was how as the lady was walking away, she couldn't help but catch sight of how much shorter she was compared to her. How much smaller, in every frame of measurement. Sophia had never felt so small compared to another woman before. Especially when she'd come so close, face to face, eye to eye.

So if someone like Ramona can be a woman...why can't Sophia?

She suddenly realized that the 'tranny' those kids were making fun of the other night wasn't Sophia, but Ramona. The Quite Visible Minority. Sophia was hoping nobody she knew in her real life saw her walking with this new person tonight.

Normal...Normal...Normal...

 

---

 

The girls stopped playing with me. I just don't understand. I liked playing with them. They were nice. I liked playing House with them. I'd be the Dog every time. I couldn't be the mom since the other girls always take it. I didn't want to be the dad, he's so boring. Maybe they got bored of me. They kept saying how I was a boy. Mommy said I shouldn't play with them anymore. I don't like playing with boys. There's only one I like.

Mommy can he come over again? Can I go over to his house? I wanna see him again.

He’s my very best friend, I love him the most! He isn’t mean. He doesn’t make fun of me. He's the only one who was nice to me. He's my best friend and I'll stay with him forever.

I’m sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. ???

He likes sports way more than me, but that's okay. I wanna play games together. 

He ignores me when he’s with his other friends…

Can I group up with him again? He’s my best friend. Best friend. I don’t wanna be with anybody else. I don’t like anyone else. 

Why is he ignoring me when I ask him to play? He’s always saying he’s too busy. 

Some girls tried to play with me again. I don't trust them. It's a trick. They'll leave me again. They'll bully me. Mother will find out. I have to stay away. Can't trust them. Can't trust them. Can't trust them.

Everyone bullies me. Everyone hates me. Except my best friend. It can't be me who's wrong. It's everyone else's fault. I'm smarter than them. I'm more mature. That's why they hate me.  They'll pay someday. 

Why didn’t he invite me to his birthday party last week? Maybe he forgot. 

We’re getting kind of old for parties anyways, I stopped having mine because people stopped coming anyways. 

He’s talking with the other boys about his party he had.

He forgot again...

Did I do something wrong? What am I doing wrong? Everything always goes wrong. There must be something wrong with me...There must be something wrong with me...There must be something wrong with me...