PG-13!!!
He stared, overwhelmed, by the figure hidden behind the steamy mirror. His reflection, smothered in a dainty mask, begged for help. Those eyes – they couldn’t be his; they weren’t his. The supple lips that pursed ever so slightly into a small ‘O’ didn’t belong to him. He wiped off the sparkly powder affixed to his eyelids, the rouge sprinkled on his cheeks. Neither his life nor image co-intwined with the other.
Slowly, he folded his hands over his plump breasts that pointed downward, as if they were ashamed. They knew more than he did. They discovered his secrets and desires, even that he didn’t want these odd pieces of fat sticking out from his upper chest. They were awkward and he always fumbled with them.
A vast, muscular chest was what he wanted. To run across a beach, abs exposed for the world to see, women drooling and imagining themselves slowly caressing each peck. To have a jaw line and an Adam’s apple. Even to urinate standing up.
He sighed, tugging on the wavy, black tresses that fell loosely down his back. He didn’t know if it was alright to feel like this, because he’d never heard anyone talk about it. It wasn’t normal for sure. There was no degree of certainty in his voice as he slowly, calmly tried to convince himself he was O.K. But nothing was O.K. Now that this had arisen in his soul, nothing would ever be O.K. anymore.
His soft, spindly fingers traced a line around his nose, his lips, his eye sockets, and his jaw. He stared back again at the tired, horrified creature, her eyes defeated.
She shook her head, sighed, and left the bathroom quickly, only to face another day of normalcy.
(This story is dedicated to one of my friends who's a transgender. One of the reasons I decided for the character to be anonymous is because of all the people in the world that may be questioning their real gender but don't want anyone to know about it. Stay Strong. Hope you liked it. -Jane)
