“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven't you?” Something about that line from my favorite Zelda game always resonated with me. I never really knew why. The main character being forced into a body that wasn't theirs, being disregarded at every turn even though they knew they were different. Not being able to access vital parts of their story without assuming a role, putting on a mask. Becoming someone else in order to survive. You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven't you? The mask salesman knew it, and my friend Lacy, staring at me like I had just hurled a moon with teeth at the planet, knew it too. I had met with a terrible fate. 

“What is that?” Lacy finally asked again.

I looked down at the bottle in my hand. Estrophem, the all natural estrogen supplement to help boost your natural estrogen and alleviate symptoms of menopause. “Uhhh–'' There was no good way to describe what was in my hand. But with the heat rising in my cheeks from the realization of what I had been doing, and how that would look to a trans person, I had to be honest. As embarrassing as it may have been. “--estrogen?”

She walked up to me, looking down, the most horrific face I had ever seen her make. There was nothing there. The most distant, expressionless look stapled over her usually confident demeanor. Lacy reached out and took the bottle from my hand. 

“You uh, realize that this isn't actual estrogen right? This stuff doesn't work like Hormone Replacement Therapy.”

“What?! No! Oh gosh no. I just wanted maybe like, a little bit more of a feminine figure…for the videos! Yeah, just for the videos. It’s not like I’ve become a lot more happy with my body since I started trying to look more like a girl or anything.” Oh no, my panic brain was taking over. 

She let out a heavy sigh and began to rub her temples. “I’m too sober for this.” She mumbled, then motioned for me to follow her to my living room and sit down. 

I sat down across from her, once again not sure where things were going. She implied that I was trans when I was pinned to the wall like a modern art piece. But was I? Surely there had to be more to it than just wanting to be a girl? Did I want to be a girl? Girls always had the better clothes, and music, and hair, and everything. But could I really be one? Sure I’d fooled everyone online, maybe I fooled myself as well. I never really knew who or what I was. 

“First things first. What would you like me to call you right now? Alice, Lo, or the other name?” Lacy set the bottle of pills on the small table and leaned back. 

That was certainly a question. I had always hated my name. Lloyd, ugh, it’s like my parents wanted me to be an old man from the start.

That’s when something clicked. “I think I’d like Alice for now. If that’s okay?” 

“Of course it is. So, Alice. Why did you do all of this? What made you want to be Alice? Why take these pills in hopes of becoming more like a girl?” 

“It wasn’t really a want at first. I mean, not all this. I got fired near the start of the pandemic. I needed money fast and my family wasn't about to help, so I did what I thought made the most sense.” It was the truth. Though I had never talked it out with anyone before.

Lacy looked at me with a soft seriousness about her. “So instead of making an OnlyFans as a guy. You dressed up as a girl and started trying to look more like one to sell the lie.” 

“Yeah, pretty much. I already had most of the dildos and some clothes, so I figured why not go for it? It worked in the end. I didn't starve and scraped by just enough to make it through until I got hired at Jay’s. I didn’t really do much research into estrogen, I kinda just assumed you take the pills and you look more like a girl.” 

“We’re gonna need to hire movers, there's so much to unpack there.” Lacy looked around the room, most likely trying to collect her thoughts. “Let me just start by saying, most cis guys don’t just have dildos and women’s clothes lying around. And, not to mention, most cis guys wouldn’t immediately jump to pretending to be a girl to get into sex work. Alice, Alice, sweetie, honey, you sweet bean. You’re trans as fuck yo. Not to mention, this stuff here?” She gestured at the bottle on the table. “This isn't making you more feminine. This is some wildly unregulated supplement that’s meant for cis women going through menopause.” 

I looked down. So the pills weren’t actually making me more like a girl? That–hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I felt sad. I felt cheated. I felt like I had crafted the greatest macaroni portrait of a stunning flower on a piece of construction paper, and when I showed it to my Mom, she asked why I wasted food on proving why I’d never get into art school. 

Maybe that was my answer, to what I wasn't sure. But the way I felt so hilariously let down at the fact that the pills weren't doing anything. It meant I had a lot to think about. If I was trans, then there were going to be a lot of things I should actually research, instead of just googling estrogen. But what if I wasn’t? What if I was actually a guy? Just a guy who dresses like a girl and tried to get more feminine so people would think he was a girl. And who gets all blushy when people call him a good girl and get off to him. Yeah, there had to be people like that right? Or maybe I was just trying to search for any excuse to justify not facing things I had been avoiding my whole life. I liked being Alice, she was cool, she was interesting, she had a sense of humor and style. Lloyd just sat in the corner and did what he was told.

I dragged my hand across my face. “I think I need some time to think about all of this. I’m not sure what I am, but I know something needs to change.”

Lacy leaned forward and gave me another smile. “I think that’s a good idea. Most people think that realizing you’re trans is like some switch flipping on. But in reality, it’s usually never that simple. For me it was accepting the fact that transition was even an option, and then over the course of a few weeks accepting that being a girl is what I wanted. Take all the time you need Alice, I’ll be here to help and support you no matter what you decide okay?” She put her hand on mine. 

It was strange, Lacy always had such a confident, domineering aura about her. Seeing her softer side was an experience. Though I suppose her seeing me like this was just as alien to her. Not dressed as a girl apparently, but me being honest and open.

Over the next week we talked everyday. Both at work and in our off time. We laughed, we joked, we had actual conversations. Not just our normal back and forth. It was comfortable. I had a real friend. Not to mention I finally had someone I could share my weird Twitter interactions with. We were both slowly lowering our walls we had spent so much time building.

During that time I had done a lot of thinking. About myself, my life, my gender, my everything. I allowed the thought of me being trans echo in my mind. Trying not to fight my internalized reluctance and fear. Well, most of the fear, I cried a lot. But I was starting to get used to the idea that maybe, just maybe I could be a girl. Not to mention that Lacy had asked how I’d gotten into kink and BDSM, which also got me thinking. 

“It's hot, don't get me wrong. I'm totally into it. But the wax, the whips, the impact play. No one else sees you the day after. When you walk a little funny, wince from lifting a box, struggle a bit to do certain things. Why go to those limits knowing you're gonna hurt the next day?" She asked. 

I thought for a moment, no one had ever brought it up before. I'd done it for so long it was my normal. I could give the generic answer, gloss over the truth like I usually do. But Lacy deserved the truth. And I'd never actually admitted it before. 

"I guess, sometimes I want the outer pain to match the inner pain. I’ve struggled for control in every aspect of my life, I just want to let go and give the emotional turmoil a physical form. This is a safe way to do it. To let out everything I keep bottled up inside. To feel the sensations that I control, that I consent to, that I want to feel, but in a good way. Sometimes I have bruises, but they also mean I was able to let it out. Everything I've held back, I can let it come through. Plus bruises are kind of hot."

I’m sure there are lots of studies about trauma and kink. But to be honest, I just enjoyed letting go. It was like taking off your shoes after a long day at work, letting your hair down, speaking in your normal voice instead of your rehearsed customer service act. I could do what I wanted, how I wanted, and be who I wanted. Being me, and not worrying about what anyone else thought or wanted. It was freeing. That’s what I really wanted. I had met with a terrible fate. I wanted to be free.

RavenKane

I would like to say DIY hormones are a thing. But please don't be like my dumb egg self and take supplements without consulting a doctor. There are lots of resources you can find by searching for informed consent clinics. Thank you for reading! There's only one more chapter to go, which is currently up my Patreon as well as a whole set of real life dense egg micro chapters about my life. I'm currently working on some commissions but will be storyboarding some more series soon.