“We’ve run a few tests,” My doctor explained, “And there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. But I think you should have called your therapist instead.”
“What? Why?” I exclaimed, “I’ve had fantasies about being a girl, sure, but up until yesterday I was a guy! There’s a mountain of evidence for that. I mean, even look at the name I scheduled this appointment and every single other appointment I’ve ever had!”
The doctor sighed, “Sam, it’s short for Samantha, not Samuel. I know you’ve always had slight struggled with gender identity, but this is a pretty strong break. Now, I’m no expert.”
“Are you saying I’m crazy? No, you’re saying I’m trans?”
“I think you should speak with your therapist about that.”
“No, I mean, even if I was...I mean, I am a guy. I was a guy. But guys are kind of gross. Why would I want to be one? Why would I choose that?”
“It’s not really a choice.”
“You’re right. I WAS a guy. I’m not going to deny that, but right now, I AM a girl.”
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