In secret, I'd slip into my sister's room and wrap myself in her clothes, feeling a thrill of excitement and trepidation. I'd savor the softness of her dresses, the way her skirts swirled around me, and the gentle rustle of her blouses. But I knew I had to be quick, to shed my disguise before anyone discovered me. I'd experiment with her makeup, tracing the curves of my eyes and lips with trembling fingers, only to hastily wash it away before anyone saw me. Those stolen moments were my only solace, a fleeting glimpse of the person I longed to be.
During my high school years, I stumbled upon an article that would change everything. It was about transgender people, a term I had never heard before. I wondered, what does it mean to be transgender? As I read on, I discovered the story of a boy who felt destined to be a girl. The article described how she underwent surgery to align her physical body with her true gender identity. I was fascinated and intrigued, feeling an inexplicable connection to her journey. For the first time, I saw a glimmer of hope, a possibility that I too could live as my authentic self.
My search for stories about transgender individuals became an obsession, as I devoured every article, every testimonial, and every journey I could find. And then, it hit me - this is me. I'm transgender. But fear and uncertainty gripped me, leaving me wondering what to do next. Revealing my truth to my mother felt impossible, so I locked it away, a secret known only to me. Yet, my desire for self-discovery only intensified. I continued to read, to learn, and to hope. And then, I stumbled upon information about hormone blockers - a lifeline for a fifteen-year-old like me, desperate to halt the changes that felt so wrong. I knew I needed it, but the question was, how could I access it?
Desperate for a solution, I turned to the black market, knowing it was a risky move, but feeling I had no other choice. Where else could I find hormone blockers without revealing my secret? This was the harsh reality I faced as a trans woman, forced to hide my true self from a world that seemed determined to reject me. My family wasn't homophobic, but transphobia was a different story. I feared their reaction, worried that I'd be met with anger, rejection, or even worse, kicked out of the only home I'd ever known. So, I took a deep breath and navigated the shadows, determined to find the blockers that would help me align my body with my identity, all while keeping my truth hidden from the world.
I would scour the internet, reading threads and forums where people shared their thoughts on trans individuals. One sentiment that cut deep was the notion that a man who dated a trans woman was somehow 'gay.' This misconception ignited a fire within me. Just because I'm a trans woman doesn't diminish my womanhood. I am a woman, just like any other, with the same desires, hopes, and dreams. And so, when asked, I simply say 'woman.' I don't feel the need to qualify or justify my identity. But there's a reason I keep my trans identity hidden, a reason I'll share in the next part of my story.