NATALIE

Week 8

During the past few days, I'd been locking myself in my room to practice putting on makeup. I went through a lot of makeup wipes, but I'm pretty proud of how far I've come. Winged eyeliner is still the hardest thing ever, but I'm learning. I owe everything I know to online tutorials and Delaney talking about makeup way too much.

I've also practiced painting my nails. I still don't know how to do it without making a mess, but I guess that's why nail polish remover was invented.

I've tried on every item of clothing that I bought at the mall. I matched everything with everything else to find what looks good with what. When I was little, I used to get jealous that girls got to play dress-up, and that wasn't something I was allowed to do. I finally started having my own "dress-up sessions" my room. Behind locked doors and shut curtains, I feel free to be whoever I want. It's amazing, but I hate that I have to hide it.

I want to share this part of me. I want to go outside wearing clothes that I feel comfortable in. I want to spend a long time getting ready in the morning and show it off. I want people to see me the way that I want to see myself. I want people to call me Natalie.

It helps a lot that I have Tommy. When we're not around other people, he refers to me as "she", "her", and "girl". "Natalie".

Everything's easier to handle when I remember that there's someone I can always talk to. When my friends call me "Nathan", when people call me "he", and when Mr. York calls me by my full name, I think about the time Tommy called me "beautiful". Most of the time, that gets me through my day.

After struggling for years, I finally feel ready. I'm learning to be comfortable with myself, and I want the rest of of the world to learn with me. I still remember Mr. York telling me, "The day you learn manners is the day you show up to school in a dress and high heels".

Today, we'll find out if that's true.

***

Makeup? Check.

Hair? Check.

Clothes that comply with our school's ridiculous dress code? Check.

Shoes that hurt my feet but that doesn't matter because they look amazing? Check.

Excessive confidence? ...Fuck. Where'd I leave that?

I got out of bed really early this morning. It was partly because I wanted to have enough time to get ready, but mostly because I was too nervous to fall back asleep. I did my makeup, and now I'm sitting on my bed with a half an hour to spare.

I'm freaking out. I'm not excited to see everyone's reactions today. I don't know if I'll act differently, but what if people treat me differently? I have to remind myself that this is what I've wanted for forever. This might be rough, but things will turn out okay eventually. They have to.

I decide that since I have time, I should make myself breakfast and hope that I don't end up throwing it up later. I go downstairs, find bagels in the fridge, and put one in the toaster. When it pops back up, I spread an unhealthy amount of cream cheese on each half and sandwich them back together. I set my bagel on the kitchen table and pour myself a glass of orange juice before sitting down.

Right after I take my first bite, my mom walks into the kitchen. We both freeze.

SHIT. I FORGOT ABOUT MY PARENTS. HOW DID I FORGET MY OWN DAMN PARENTS? Okay, okay, think this through. Act calmly. She's probably in too much shock to start yelling, but don't start shouting back if she starts it.

I finish chewing and swallow. "Hello, mother dearest. May I help you?"

She snaps out of her trance. "You... what? What is this? What have you... Oh my god. Ted! Come here!"