Congratulations, It's a boy!

Identity, more so gender, had always been one big question mark for Harry. There were some days when she felt so in tune with her feminine side and femininity and all things femme. She loved those days.

Those days were full of confidence and laughter and life simply because she knew for a fact that's how she was supposed to be. She was born with female anatomy and that was that. She had love handles and puffy lips and boobs for christ's sake. It was easy.

On those bright days, she would spend time perfecting her makeup and picking out the perfect earrings. It wasn't just that it was right but it felt right. The squeeze of her toes in the crammed, heeled shoes and the lift of her chest in the push-up bra—it was all lovely.

But then there were the days when everything felt wrong, where she prodded and poked at all of the wrong spots of her body, where she would place the palms of her hands on her chest and push down while looking in the mirror, imagining what it would be like if that area was flat.

Typically she loved the soft lines on her belly that accentuated her efforts in the gym and the outward curve of her thighs that she can never seem to gain muscle at.

But on the days when nothing felt right, she hated those things. She wanted plump veins in her hands and a hard chest and a stomach that showed many hard lines of work. She wanted baggy clothes that hung off of her in all of the right ways and a deep voice that could intimidate when raised.

The days where she felt more... masculine were never more than here or there, something that she wouldn't ever give in to unless it was in the privacy of her own room with the lights dull and curtains not only closed but pinned together.

When she left for university, not much changed. She of course brought along all of her favorite dresses and makeup, her expensive hair products for her long curls, but she also brought pairs of baggy pants and t-shirts. She packed them at the very bottom of her biggest bag, despite the items being 'trendy' between all genders, because of the worry that her parents might accidentally get a peek at them.

It's not as if her parents aren't accepting, it's just the same as everyone else, they won't understand it. Harry doesn't even understand it herself so how could she expect others to? One day she feels completely fine and pretty and the next it's like something is trying to claw out of her. It's not normal.

The first month of school goes... fine. It's not great per se, but it's not particularly bad. She goes to classes and meets her first friend, Louis. Louis' in two of the classes and he already asked Harry if they should start up a study group, along with both offering and asking for any notes, should either of them miss a day.

Harry easily agrees, happy to make a friend, let alone someone willing to help. She thinks it might be because Louis happens to enjoy openly staring at Harry sometimes, but still. It's not like Harry doesn't enjoy doing the same exact thing right back at him.

As if Louis could ever want her though.

On the days when she feels not-so-much like she, Harry stays cuddled in her duvet, her makeup sat gathering dust on her desk and her frilly clothes hung up neatly in her closet. Louis calls but Harry doesn't answer, letting all notifications collect as unread on her phone.

Sleep comes easily but that doesn't mean the endless line of exhaustion ends. The days pass and go quickly and Harry is glad that with current technology most of her classes can be streamed online for her to watch with streaks of tears rolling down her cheeks and yet no one will know.