#36 - My Girl

Today’s words: Unadvised, True, Triple, Wound

Word count: 680

Completion time: N/A – this took days on and off to think up/research

Summary: A girl wonders what life would be like had she had been born with a different body

I am not transgender, so this was difficult for me to write. I’ve been clued up on what being transgender means/how it feels from people who are trans for a couple of years now, but I’ve never been in that position so I made sure that it read well before it went live.

A serious thanks to everyone on tumblr and my friends who helped guide me!

I'm not an expert in the slightest on trans-related issues, and this story is not reflective of all transmen/women etc, so please do your research. Google loves you.

Picture of my lovely friend, Lene.

The highlight of my girlfriend’s life was when she met herself for the first time.

Most people ‘meet’ themselves in the mirror, through the eyes of a friend, or when they go on a self-discovery trip to meet a monk on top of a mountain, but she met herself when she analysed a school picture of her sister.

“That’s when it hit me; it was like I saw my true form in my sister. We had been born as triplets – I used to say that there were triple of us when I was a toddler – and despite not being identical, there were clearly some resemblances. Anyway, I looked at the pictures of all of us – my brother, myself, and my sister – set beside each other in the living room; my brother looked most like me, physically, but all of my attention was on Eloise.”

Her eyelids relaxed and she brought her knees to her chest, playing with the ends of her hair.

“She had hair that I wanted, a delicate face that was untouched by stubble, and she was allowed to behave however she wanted without repercussion. Before puberty, both of our voices were indistinguishable almost...until mine got deeper.” Her voice got louder, more insistent. “Why was it unadvised for me to act like the other girls did, too?” her fingers pinched the skin on her arm, causing me to link my fingers with hers and shuffle closer. “I thought that if I had been born with a body like hers, I’d probably look just like her and I would be free to act like I did now without being treated differently.” She made the same face that people make when they’re trying to forget how much a fresh wound hurts. “I feel trapped, man...”

I got a lump in my throat. I’ve seen her make that face before, and it hurt me that I couldn’t give her what she desperately wanted. I could tell her that she looked great, that she always passed in my eyes, and that I loved her to death, but it wouldn’t cure her insecurities forever. “Casey...”

“I had recurring dreams of flying into her body to see what it was like, like a ghost looking for a vessel to possess in order to feel alive.” She smiled sadly. “Of course, once I woke up, I still looked like a guy, talked like a guy, and was a guy according to my father.” Taking a breath she looked at me, squinting one eye. “Hey, Rory...?”

My ears pricked up. “Yeah?”

“If...if I looked like my sister--”

“No.” I knew what she wanted to say. My hands gripped hers tighter and I made sure to look her right in the eyes. “No ‘if’s, okay? I love you, not what you look like. I love who you are. I love the look in your eyes when you get excited, I love that you always hesitate at my bedroom door before I tell you to come in, I love the way you co-ordinate your clothes, I love how proud you look when you beat me in an arm-wrestle, I love the way you walk, talk, I love you.”

She started crying and I immediately touched my forehead with hers.

“You make me so happy just by being there and I know you’ll tell me to get stuffed for saying this but you are the prettiest, smartest, funniest girl I’ve ever met.” By then, her crying had become audible so I hugged her tightly. She smelt of strawberries and cream. “That’s how I see you. That’s how I’ll always see you. If I wasn’t with you, I’d be jealous of the person who was, you know? Like, ‘Shit, that person’s a lucky son of a bitch; I wish I had a girlfriend as cool as that.’”

“Fuck off...” she said, pressing her head into my shoulder. “You’re an idiot, stop being so nice.” I felt her kiss the side of my neck before she wrapped both arms around it. “Thank you.”

“You are, and will always be, welcome.”