[TRANS] Her Journey

As the dilator slid in, just an inch deep, just a centimeter wide, she cried. She saw this, the end of her journey.

She remembered her old self, her old body, that nasty boy body.

She thought she was gay. It seemed the closest fit. She had never heard of trans people before in her community. Being gay was bad enough. "Sinful," they said at church.

She wondered what it would be like to have been born a girl. How much easier it would be.

She tried on her sister's clothes. "Helping her sister out," she thought. And her sister went along with it. She was her sister's life-size dress-up doll.

It all ended when she tried on her sister's panties. That unsightly bulge. She tucked it between her legs. Tried on her sister's bra. Filled it with enough tissues to dry the tears she cried.

This is what she wanted. What she needed. What she desired.

And her sister called her a pervert.

She remembered staying tucked for too long, remembered the bruising. She remembered cutting herself. Wishing she had the strength to cut it off.

She remembered going out on dates pretending to be a girl. Remembered how terrified she would be to get caught. She remembered the beating she got when she was caught. The names.

The horrible horrible names.

She remembered getting T blockers the first time. Trying to find the right balance of estrogen. She remembered all the crying, way too much crying.

She felt her skin soften, her body hair thinning. She remembered her first blossoming bosom, how they ached, how they swelled. She remembered her first training bra.

She thought back to her top surgery. How the drains wept. How the bandages held so tight she could barely breathe, and how she could barely stand not ripping them off and seeing the result.

She remembered her bruised breasts for the first time. Hers! Not some stuffing, not some baby puffy nipples, but real breasts. She wept again.

She remembered the counselor sessions, all the times in therapy, and finally getting the approval to get those bits removed. More surgery. More bandages. More weeping ports. Catheters. And bandages she couldn't wait to remove.

She remembered her bruised pelvis and wept. Finally she looked the way she felt inside.

She remembered the healing, the time it took to get here.

She didn't want to remove the dilator. It took way too long to get here.