I go into the bathroom, intending to take a hot shower to warm up, but the mirror stops me in my tracks, my reflection unforgiving.
I’ve spent a decade sneaking quick glances, enough to make sure my makeup and hair look good, but not enough for the intense feeling of disgust to settle in. Not enough to pick out every single detail of my face that reminds me of who I used to be.
Tonight, I look.
The image reflecting back to me isn’t a good one. My cheeksare chapped, and my body is covered in goosebumps from the cold. I know I should stop and take a hot bath before I catch a cold.
But I don’t deserve warmth.
I ruined everything.
I scan my face, ignoring the tears still falling. Nate seemed to think I was pretty before he discovered who I truly am. I’m sure now that he knows, he regrets every compliment he ever carelessly threw my way.
I have my dad’s eyes and my mom’s nose. My lips are full. I’ve always had soft features, even before my transition. My shoulders are wider than I would like, my collarbones, my arms, almost too thin, no matter what I do to try to fill out.
I look down at my small breasts, the natural growth from hormones. My dark nipples are pebbled and hard as stone, and I used to think they suited my body. I never considered surgery.
Now I can’t help but wonder if Nate would think of me as a woman if I had.
I’ve always been skinny, with narrow hips. Nothing like Layla’s full figure and curves or Savannah, with her perfect cheerleader body.
My gaze lingers on my stomach. I can’t give Nate a baby.
He said he saw himself marrying me. We haven’t talked about children, but after seeing him with his nieces and nephew, Alex too, I know Nate wants to be a father. And I can’t give him that.
He’s probably thinking the same thing right now.
He’s probably thinking about all the reasons he doesn’t want me anymore.
This is normally where I would stop.Don’t go there, mymind shouts.
But I’m sliding off my underwear.
The shame hits before the cold.
I force myself to look at the part of me that I can never accept. Usually, it feels separate from me, like something that if I ignore long enough, I’ll look down one day, and it’ll be gone.
But the truth is, that no matter how pretty I become, no matter how my voice changes, no matter how much I change to be who I’ve always been inside…
It will always be there.
My throat tightens, and my reflection blurs through the tears falling fast now, but I don’t look away.
This isn’t what Nate loves, my mind shouts, more cruel than it’s ever been.
He said so himself, I’m not gay.
He loved the lie I showed him, not this. How could anyone ever love this?
I close my eyes and press a trembling hand over myself, as if I can will it away.
Touching it only makes it worse.
I don’t know how I end up on the floor, curled into a ball, but that’s where I find myself.
Tears spill rapidly down my cheeks as sobs wrack my body until I can barely breathe.
He doesn’t love me anymore.
