-Chapter 10: Confronting the Truth-

It's not like there was some test I could take that would give me the answer. The best thing I could think to do was look at other peoples' stories, and see how they compared to my own. I wanted to hear peoples' experiences. Not clinical assessments or professional studies; what people said and felt, in their own words. So I searched things like, "Am I transgender?" and "How do I know I'm transgender?" and I read blogs, and articles, and scoured forums and discussion boards reading peoples' accounts of how they found out.

Some had known from a very young age; trans women who wore dresses when they were little, or trans men who wanted to play with toy cars and hated wearing makeup. Some didn't realize until puberty; when their bodies started changing, and those changes made them miserable. And, still, plenty of others didn't realize until adulthood, some even late into their lives. And those who realized as older teenagers or adults fit every lifestyle imaginable. Some had thought they were homesexual, only to discover they were heterosexual members of the opposite gender. Some women said they used to be exceedingly masculine before they figured out they were trans. They played sports, worked on cars, and did everything my dad had wanted me to do growing up. Some still did those things after transitioning. The same could be said for men who were once exceptionally feminine.

Peoples' inciting events; those first moments they began to question their gender identities, were just as varied as their backgrounds. Some came to acknowledge their gender after talking with therapists. Some had known others who transitioned and realized they were the same. Others had assumed their feelings were fetishistic in nature, until those feelings became too strong and prevalent to write off. Some thought it was a phase, but when they didn't outgrow those feelings, they realized the truth. Some had done what I was doing now. They had struggled to identify the source of their discomfort and unhappiness, but seeing the testimonies of other trans people had helped them identify themselves as transgender. For some, it was as simple as resonating strongly with a story or character, and realizing the extent of their dysphoria. 

Gender dysphoria. That was a new term in my vocabulary. It wasn't something I'd ever really heard of before, despite it being as prevalent as it is. I asked myself if I'd experienced dysphoria. Was I now? No. I'd realized very quickly that I was happy with my current body. What about before? What about when I'd lived as a man? There was something in me that wanted to resist. A force in my mind tried to say no. But, I'd had gender dysphoria. Of-fucking-course I did! I felt nothing but contempt and disgust for my body; for my face! I'd hated the way I looked, and I couldn't understand why, but it made me feel awful. For fuck's sake, I didn't even recognize my reflection as a person before! I'd hated looking like a man. I'd hated dressing like a man. I'd hated acting like a man. No shit, I'd had gender dysphoria! Anyone who'd heard the term could have diagnosed me with it, if they'd known me well enough.

And yet, it wasn't that blisteringly obvious revelation that sent me over the edge. It was something I'd seen everywhere I looked. Whenever someone would ask the question, "Am I trans?" a maxim would appear, without fail. "No one can decide your gender but you." "No one can tell you what your gender is." "You can't let anyone else decide your gender." "Your gender identity is your decision, and your decision alone." After seeing that single, simple truth for the umpteenth time, it finally hit me. It left me with a single word. A different question than the ones that had led me here;

When?

Not, "Am I trans?" Not, "How do I know I'm trans?" Just… when? When was that decision made? When did I know I was trans? And… that decision had been made a long time ago. It wasn't now. It wasn't today, or even when I got SIS. I'd finally confronted the truth, but I had known for a much, much longer time. I'd been a woman for so long. I'd known I was a woman for so, so long.

Something broke inside me, at that moment. I put my hand over my mouth, and I cried. I doubled over, closing my eyes as the tears flowed out. I wept my heart out. Not for sadness, but perhaps grief. Not for joy, but perhaps relief. I was just overwhelmed. It was over. All those years, I'd lived a lie. I'd embraced a lie. I had built an image of myself up in my head, and I clung to it. I hated it, and it had caused me so, so much pain, but I held onto it for dear life. I hated the person I had told myself I was, but I was using that lie; that horrible, awful lie to shield myself from the truth. I was a woman. And that terrified me. The reality of it terrified me. The burdens I would have to live with if I'd accepted that I was transgender. The hardships, and struggles, and emotions, and dangers that carried with it scared me to no end. The changes that would require terrified me. Change had always been difficult for me, and that would mean changing everything, and I couldn't even bear thinking about it.

And I would be admitting that I was wrong. That identity I'd been so sure of in high school was wrong. The life I'd planned for myself was wrong. Acknowledging that I was trans would mean acknowledging that some of my most basic beliefs about myself were wrong. And that terrified me, too. It was too much. The truth of who I was and what that meant were too much for me to handle. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't live with the truth. I couldn't accept myself. So I buried it. I buried my truest self in the deepest, darkest reaches of my heart, and piled lies, on top of lies, on top of lies to keep that truth as far from the light of day as possible. I had denied what I was. I had denied who I was. I had tortured myself, and lied to myself, and rejected my genuine self in favor of a strawman. One that I hated, and one that hurt me, but was easier to accept, because it meant I could keep believing all my ugly little lies.

And now, it was over. All of that was over. All those years of tormenting myself had come to an end. That misfit identity I'd shambled together was gone; shattered into a thousand pieces and carried off with the wind. I was still me, but that's it. I was just me. I didn't have to lie to myself anymore. I was still my parents' child. I was still Anna's best friend. And I was me. I was a woman. I was the woman I'd locked away in my heart for so many long years. I was free. I didn't have to be anyone else. I was Sophie Fuller. I was myself.

And, along with those feelings of both loss and liberation, there was something else. I felt guilty. I had been given a gift. A gift I didn't deserve. I was given the body of my dreams. A body that suited me perfectly. It made me so happy, and it was so amazing, and wonderful, and how could I have ever deserved something like this? So many trans men and women spend years and years struggling to feel comfortable with their bodies. They have to fight and fight, and some never even get to start that battle. And I had just been given everything. Literally overnight. 

I wouldn't have even accepted that I was trans had SIS not given me this body and forced me to confront that truth. It would have taken years, if I ever… If I even lived long enough to realize. People braver than me, and stronger than me, and more honest with themselves than me had to give everything to feel at home in their own bodies, and it had just been given to me on a silver platter. What had I done to deserve this? Why did I deserve this any more than any of them? And that's not just my old self depreciation talking; I don't think there's enough good karma in the world to earn what I'd been given.

So, I did feel guilty. But, I know that's not the right way to look at any of this. I didn't choose to be trans. No one did. Gender euphoria isn't necessarily something you should have to earn, even if the world we live in makes you work for it. And I didn't choose to get SIS, either. It just all worked out. So, more than anything, I was grateful. I had been blessed with the greatest gift I could have ever imagined. One I didn't know I'd wanted, but I absolutely needed. And that abstract, cosmic gratitude turned itself into a feeling. A thought that went through my head, and settled inside me;

I must be the luckiest girl in the world.

I don't know if I deserved this, or if it was even something you could deserve, but it happened. I had become the woman I always was. The woman I didn't think I was. The woman I was too afraid to accept that I was. And it all happened thanks to a bizarre, inexplicable, rare condition I just happened to contract. A condition that had only been reported in a little over 1,500 people, globally. Statistically, there was roughly a 0.00000000214% chance of me getting it, and that number is a generous estimate. How does that happen? I'd ask what the odds were, but those aren't even odds. That's a miracle. That doesn't just happen, but it did. It happened to me. And it saved my life.

So, I was joyous. I was grateful. I was overwhelmed. I was finally, finally free.

With all those thoughts churning in my head, and those feelings in my heart, I cried for a long time. I cried until I ran out of tears, and then I just sat there, trying to rationalize and compartmentalize that onslaught of emotions. Eventually, after more than a whole fifteen minutes, I pulled myself together. I took a deep breath, and a sip of my now lukewarm tea. 

That was that. I was a woman. I had been a woman for years without accepting it. The universe had given me the greatest gift imaginable. I had finally realized who I was, my old identity had shattered, and now I was me. It was about a quarter to 2:00. I was sitting in the office in front of the computer. Okay. Also, my tea was cold. So that kinda sucked.

Oh, and I forgot to text Anna and tell her how my talk with my mom went. I should probably do that while I'm thinking of it.

So, I turned off the desktop and stood up, choking down the rest of the tea. Walking to the other room, I picked up my phone and rinsed my mug before typing up the message;

Me:

Hey Anna! My talk with my mom went really well. I hope you're doing alright and you have a safe trip back. Talk to you soon. Hugs and kisses <3

Without a second thought, I hit send. Then, a moment later, the second thought came in the form of, "Was that laying it on too thick?" Oh well, I was too tired to care. I don't think I'd ever felt as much as I had in the last hour, and it had been an exhausting experience. I didn't have anything else going on; now seemed like a good time for a nap. Hopefully a bit of sleep could help slow the storm of ongoing emotions my mind was still struggling to process.

I went to use the bathroom, and stopped in front of the mirror when I saw how my makeup had run down my face. I couldn't help but laugh. I felt great, albeit exhausted, but I looked like shit. So, after I handled my business, I wiped my makeup off. Walking into my room, I slipped back into those pajamas I had wanted to get into so badly, set my phone on my nightstand, and flopped into bed. As worked up as I was emotionally, I was tired enough to feel sleep coming on quickly. So, without resistance, I let myself fall under, feeling peaceful for the first time all day.

…

…

…

I was a bit groggy when the buzz of my phone woke me up. I did feel much calmer, at least. The overwhelming cacophony of emotions I'd been experiencing earlier had finally died down, leaving me feeling much better. I felt lighter, and refreshed. I was a new me. The real me. I finally understood who I was, and I had, after so many years, accepted it. I was genuinely euphoric. I didn't hate myself. I was alive, and I was glad for it. I was at peace, at last.

The setting sun painted my bedroom a dark, muted orange as its rays tried to press through the thick storm clouds overhead. I listened intently to the sound of the rain coming down, the drops sounding a bit heavier than the typical drizzles we got year round. My phone informed me it was 5:12 in the evening. It also notified me that Anna had answered my message;

Anna Foster:

I'm so happy to hear that, Sophie!! ^_^

And I've got some good news! My old roommate was at our apartment, and she helped me pack up the rest of my stuff, so I got back way earlier than I expected! I'm gonna unload these boxes, and then I thought I'd swing by your place for dinner. Does 6:30 sound alright??

Did she seriously just invite herself over for dinner? I mean, I know I owed her, like, a thousand dinners by that point, but still; how shameless can you get? Whatever…

Me:

That's great!

And, sure, you can come by. Just, uh, don't expect a 5* quality meal… >///<

Anna Foster:

Perfect! And I have only the highest expectations from a gourmet such as yourself ;)

Me:

I'll try to find something that's not too stale…

Well, I hadn't been expecting to cook, but here we were. So, I rose from bed and begrudgingly slipped back into the outfit I'd worn earlier in the day. As I left my room, I pondered whether or not I should put some makeup on. I mean, it was just Anna coming over, right? We were just having a casual dinner, and she was probably dressed down since she'd spent the day moving and driving. So, no need to fuss too much over my appearance. These were the thoughts going through my head as I proceeded to reapply my makeup, anyway.

I floated through the house shutting blinds and turning on lights before heading to the foyer and grabbing my apron from work. If I'm gonna actually make dinner, might as well wear it, right? Back in the kitchen, I made for the pantry to see what ingredients were a) still edible, and b) might be usable to make something I could actually cook. My culinary skills began at a bowl of cereal and ended somewhere between instant noodles and ham sandwiches. The food we served at work was all premade; just stick it in the microwave. Needless to say, I was feeling a bit anxious. 

The selection at my disposal was sparse at best. There were some tortillas; not expired, but I didn't have anything to put in them other than canned refried beans and shredded cheese. That sounded more like a midday snack than a dinner. There were some cans of soup, but that's not something you serve a guest. I had a few cups of instant noodles; see the previous two problems. There was some rice; you know, something you eat with a meal, not as one. I found a box of spaghetti. Spaghetti… That could work! I'd seen my mom make spaghetti and meatballs before. Just boil the pasta and cook the sauce and meat. I'm sure I could handle that! I checked the package: expired a week ago. Well, that's probably still safe to eat, right?

We had a jar of tomato sauce in the pantry, too. And it was still good for a week! Mathematically; if the pasta expired a week ago, and the sauce had another week of shelf life, they'd cancel each other out! It was perfect! That's the story I decided to go with, anyway. Last thing was the meatballs. I prayed as I went to the freezer that we had some tucked away in there. Luckily, the Frozen Food Gods were smiling upon me; there was a bag of them behind a couple TV dinners. So, with all the ingredients assembled, all I had to do was cook them! Easy, right…?

See, it was easy, but I managed to needlessly worry about every single step… the entire time I cooked. I must have checked the pasta's consistency every thirty seconds, all while stirring the sauce and meatballs so much my wrist started hurting. I definitely almost burned myself with the boiling water… more than once. Leave it to me to turn cooking spaghetti into a harrowing experience. I know she downplayed her abilities, but I'd have to ask Anna for some cooking lessons. Finally, after about ten minutes, I turned off the burners and put the lids on the pots. It was 6:24 and I was just getting out the plates and silverware when I heard the ring of the doorbell. Heading to the front of the house, I took off my apron and opened the door, being greeted by Anna's characteristically playful smile.

"Yo!" she chimed, holding a grocery bag behind her back.

Like I'd predicted, she was wearing a black tank top and a pair of leggings. Noticing my getup, she threw me a compliment;

"Look at you all dressed up! You look great!"

"Thanks," I replied shyly. "I was wearing this when I talked with my mom, and I figured I'd keep it on…"

I definitely didn't overdress for this or anything… I thought to myself.

Anna took off her shoes and we made for the living/dining room. She then proudly held up her grocery bag with one hand and announced;

"I've brought gifts!"

"Oh?"

Firstly, she withdrew a bottle of wine;

"If you're feeding me, I thought I should at least bring us something to drink. Besides, after the last few days, I think we could both use a little something to take the edge off, yeah?"

"Heh, you're definitely right about that."

"Now, for the other thing, I want you to close your eyes and hold out your hands!"

"Huh, seriously?"

"Come on! Humor me!"

"Okay, sure…"

Somewhat reluctantly, I obliged, shutting my eyes and reaching out expectantly. In the darkness, I heard the rustling of the plastic bag before feeling something very soft and light pressed into my upturned palms. Opening my eyes once again and blinking a couple times, I saw a large, white, fluffy ball resting on my palms. After a short moment, I recognized what it was; a sheep! An adorable stuffed sheep!

"Oh my god, are you serious?!"

"Well, Winston seemed to approve of you, so I thought you deserved a friend of your own!"

"AAAAAAHH!" I squealed with childlike delight, hugging the precious white puffball to my chest. "I love him!! Thank you so much!"

"Hmhm~ My pleasure! After seeing you with Winston, I couldn't not get you your own sheep. I swung by the shop where I found him, and I was super glad to see they still had them in stock!"

"Oh my god, he's perfect!" I chirped, rubbing my cheek against the soft faux wool.

I was jubilant. Now that I had one of my own, I could see why Anna called Winston her "son." That little sheep was my child, and I would take a bullet for him.

"He needs a name," she said whimsically. "What're you gonna call him?"

"Hmmm…"

I held him out in front of myself, looking at his little gray head and big black eyes. After deliberating for a moment, I announced;

"Watson! My sweet little boy's name is Watson."

"Winston and Watson, huh?" Anna mused. "That's so cute! I love it!"

"Hehe~"

As my excitement finally died down, I went into the living room, taking a pillow from the couch and resting Watson on top of it. My boy had to be comfortable, after all. With the merriment abated, and after I thanked Anna several more times, we readied to eat. I searched some cabinets for wine glasses and napkins. Grabbing a couple, I gave one to Anna and we served ourselves. Sitting down at the dining table, I took a sip of the wine and trepidatiously twirled some of the pasta around the prongs of my fork. Slowly, cautiously, I raised it to my mouth. Was this it? Was I about to ingest poison and breathe my last? I inched the fork closer… closer…

"Thish pashta's reawwy good!" Anna announced loudly, a strand of spaghetti dangling from her lip.

I sighed, half with relief and half out of disapproval of her boorish display. I took a bite and was pleased everything turned out okay.

"Yeah," I answered after swallowing. "It's not bad. Still, I think I'll have to get you to teach me how to cook sometime."

"Aww, you're fine! The spaghetti's great!"

"Well, I just threw everything in some pots and heated it up. That curry you made the other day was delicious!"

"It wasn't all that hard to make. Curry's easy!"

"For you maybe!"

"Fine, fine, I'll show you how to prepare some dishes sometime."

"Thank you!" I replied gratefully. "And maybe I can teach you some table manners!"

"Hey, I have manners when I need them!" she snorted, shovelling more pasta into her mouth. Apparently, she didn't need those manners right now.

We discussed the day as we ate. I told Anna about what happened at work, and how I'd have the week off. She asked me about my talk with my mom, and I relayed what we had discussed. She seemed relieved that my parents were being supportive, and was glad everything had gone well. When we finished our plates, we got up; I served us each a second helping and Anna poured us second glasses of wine. When we sat back down, I asked her about her day. She told me the drive went fine, and that she was glad to get to see her roommate one last time before she left. She had made a few stops on her way out of Portland before heading back. She drove into the beginnings of the monsoon, but it hadn't really started storming yet, so that wasn't a problem. I offered to help her unpack the boxes she had brought back tomorrow, and she gratefully accepted. 

As we were just finishing eating, I figured I should tell her about the other thing that happened to me today. I was nervous. I'd repressed my feelings so intensely for so long, I had barely even come to grips with them myself. The idea of telling anyone still scared me, even though I was finally accepting how I felt. But, what better person was there to open up to about all this? I trusted Anna more than anyone in the world. Even my family. She'd seen me more vulnerable in the last few days than I'd ever been around anyone, and she was there for me 100%, the whole time. If there was anyone I could tell, it was her. I took a deep breath,

"Hey, Anna… there's something else I wanted to talk to you about…"

"Yeah?" she asked with an expression of innocent curiosity. "What's up?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately… about myself, and I finally realized today… I'm a woman."

She cocked an eyebrow at me;

"Yeah… I can see that. You, uh, hadn't noticed…?"

Embarrassed, I shook my head;

"N-no, that came out wrong…! I mean… I've been a woman… For a long time… I'm trans, Anna."

Her face lit up a bit, and I told her everything. About the feelings I'd stifled for so long. About the vivid dream I'd had as a teenager. About every idle hope and fantasy I'd snuffed out. About how easy it'd been for me to accept SIS. About the false sense of self I'd built up over so many years, and how it was finally starting to fall away. About how I'd finally started to not hate myself. About how I really had been a woman all those years.

Anna listened intently the whole time. She listened as I opened up my heart and laid bare the truth I'd finally embraced. And when all was said, she stood up and threw her arms around me with a smile.

"Oh Sophie, that's wonderful!" she said as she squeezed me tighter. "I'm so happy you're finally at peace with yourself!"

"Thank you, Anna…" I whispered, leaning into her. "You really helped me get to this point."

"Maybe," she answered as she returned to her seat, "but you got here on your own, and I'm so proud of you! I'm glad you've finally figured out what was hurting you…"

I stopped for a moment. It was the way she'd said that that gave me pause. Like she'd been waiting to hear me say what I just said.

"Wait… You knew…?"

"That you were trans?" Anna replied, shaking her head. "No. Not at first. But I knew something was wrong. Back in high school, when you got on antidepressants, you did seem better, but… something was still off. The self deprecating comments never went away. The way you'd avoid eye contact with people. The way you'd shrink away at social events. You never seemed comfortable in your own skin. Some people can be like that, but… I could see it was hurting you. As we got older, I got a better sense of things. I could tell that you… hated yourself, Sophie. I'd worried about you for a long time, and I felt guilty for not knowing how to help. I wanted to be there for you. I hoped… maybe… selfishly… I could help you figure out why. But, it looks like you got there mostly on your own! I had wondered if you were trans for a while, but I never really had any evidence, so I dismissed the thought. But, Saturday, when you saw your reflection for the first time; the look on your face and the way you reacted… I knew immediately. I wasn't gonna say anything. I didn't want to impose my idea onto you, but it looks like I was right. And I'm glad. I'm so happy you can finally live as yourself!"

She was smiling warmly, but something clicked for me from what she said. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe I was inflating my own importance, but I had to know;

"W-wait… then, did you move back to Tacoma… because of me…?"

"Well…" she began, sheepishly glancing down before returning my gaze. "Truthfully… yes. I really did want to get into that graduate program. But, if they turned me down, I was still gonna find some way to come back here. It just worked out for the best, and I got accepted. And, I did it for myself, too. I really do enjoy being around you. You… you make me happier than anyone else, honestly. So, I wanted to be here with you. I wanted to help you be happy, and I wanted to be by your side again. I know how sappy and weird I must sound…"

Suddenly, the real significance of what she had done sank in. This woman had redirected her entire life… for me. She chose to put everything on the line on my behalf. And she'd saved me. She was willing to give everything for me, and all she wanted in return was my companionship. She saw the things that were hurting me the most, and dedicated herself to helping me through them. How could I ever repay that? How could I ever return that kindness? And I remembered something; I hadn't.

"It's not fair…" I said, blinking away tears with a bittersweet smile. "You've done so much for me. You've helped me through my hardships and saved me when I lost myself, and I've never been able to do anything like that for you…"

"Sophie, I already told you; you've done plenty for me, and just being around you makes me happy!"

"I know… and I believe you. But what about when you were hurting?"

"I'm happy now, really!"

"Sure, but I wasn't there for you when you needed me…"

"What are you talking about…?"

"What about back near the end of our senior year?"

Anna looked at me for a second. She opened her mouth to say something, but didn't. She shut her mouth and clenched her teeth before opening it again, only to remain silent. Her gaze wavered. Eventually, she spoke.

"Nothing happened back then…"

"Anna, of course it did! You changed over the course of a single weekend. It was clear you were in so much pain, and I didn't do anything…"

She bit her lip, and glanced at her lap.

"I don't… know what you're talking about…"

And now I was starting to get angry. I couldn't stand dishonesty, and this? This was reopening an old wound.

"You're lying right now! Don't pretend I couldn't see it, Anna! You were miserable, and I wanted to help, but you never told me what happened, and I didn't do anything. I hated myself for not being able to help you, and I worried about you for so many years!"

"Nothing… nothing happened…"

"Anna, I'm not stupid! I know you better than I know anyone, and I know something happened! Please, just tell me!"

"I… can't…"

"Anna… I just want to help you! I just want to be there for you! I care about you, and I couldn't stand seeing you in so much pain! Even if it's in the past, don't I have a right to know?! As your friend?"

"Sophie… please, just stop… "

"Why?! Anna, what happened to you?!"

"…"

"Anna, please, just be honest with me! I just want to know what was going on! Even if there's really nothing I can do, wouldn't talking about it help?! You don't have to bear everything alone! I want you to lean on me, too! I want to know the truth! Don't you trust me?!"

"I do trust you… It's just…"

"If you can't tell me what happened, then will you at least tell me why you can't?!"

"Just… let it go."

"Anna, please! Why can't you share your burdens with me?! Why can't you just talk to me about this?! Why won't you let me near your heart?!"

"Sophie," she said, suddenly glaring at me, "Drop it."

There was venom in those words. Her gaze was cruel and demanding. If we'd arrived at this point four days ago, I would have stopped. I would have yielded and begged for forgiveness. But not now. After everything we'd been through; after everything that happened to me; after I finally became my own person; I refused to back down. What she was doing wasn't fair to either of us. I'd let it go for years, but not anymore.

"No! Anna, I'm not just gonna watch you do this to yourself! It hurts, and I'm sick of it! I don't understand! Why?! Why won't you just trust me?! Really trust me?! Why can't I care about you?! I've trusted you with everything! Anna, for god's sake, if it weren't for you, I don't know if I'd be alive right now! You know more about me than anyone else! You know everything! So, please, let me do the same for you! Just talk to me! Just-"

"GODDAMN IT, STOP!"

Her fist hit the table, the loud slam and accompanying sound of crashing silverware silencing me. She stood up, glaring at me through tear filled eyes.

"You don't understand! You don't know what the fuck I've had to deal with! You don't know what it's been like for me! Maybe if you did, you'd shut the fuck up! You might be a woman, but you don't know anything about what that life means! I don't want to listen to this shit!"

She stormed out of the room, and I quickly got up, following her to the entrance of the house.

"Anna, wait! I-"

"NO! Just stop! I… I need to be alone right now!"

She had put her shoes on and I watched, unable to move as she flung the door open. Just as she'd set one foot over the threshold, she stopped, looking back at me over her shoulder. Her voice was inaudible, but I could see the words on her lips;

"I'm sorry…"

And I watched helplessly as she slammed the door behind her. I stood motionless in the entrance as I heard her car start and drive off into the rainy night. And, once again, I was alone.