Feminization

For four days the little paper with his number burned in my pocket. Every night I remembered that wetness dripping out, and I knew I was going to call.

He carried the tray trembling, the skirt riding up his thighs, while they toasted and laughed. That night he wasn't a guest: he was the party's toy.

I knelt in the center of the salon while they decided, line by line, how they would transform me. And all I could do was wish they would begin.

I wore Carolina’s black panty under tight pants, walking the city’s darkest avenue and waiting for someone to stop beside me.

I practiced in front of the mirror for weeks. The night I packed the dress into my backpack, I knew there was no turning back: this time it would be real.

We crossed the ocean to celebrate turning twenty-one with them. When we came downstairs dressed, they were waiting, and I knew nothing would ever be the same.

That night I put on the flesh-colored tights, the golden little jacket, and the long-haired wig. I had no idea the costume would unleash what it did.

Andrés was fifty-three with a broken marriage when she brushed his hand with her red nails and whispered that he shouldn’t be afraid to explore.

I was alone in my friend’s apartment when I saw her sandals beside the sofa. I knew I shouldn’t touch them, but that night I discovered what I was capable of for a secret craving I had never confessed.

They weren’t mine, and that was exactly what made them irresistible. I picked them up off the laundry-room floor knowing that night I would do everything with them I’d spent months imagining.

I’d kept that desire locked away for years. That dawn, drunk and defenseless, I let it slip in front of the one person who could make it real.

I could have changed in thirty seconds. Instead, I walked to the door in heels, knowing perfectly well what he was about to see.

I could never tell them apart. One kissed me tenderly; the other tied me up and used me. It took me too long to realize there was never a mistake: they planned everything together.

His first night in cell 118 was enough to teach him he no longer owned his body, only belonged to the man in the lower bunk.

I’d spent years dressing in secret, but that night I put on the boots, the fishnets, and the velvet dress, and walked out the door as her.

I promised him I would be his woman, no matter the cost. I didn’t know each dose would erase me until my own body no longer belonged to me.

I bought black stockings with my heart in my throat, knowing that once I locked my apartment door I’d become the woman I’d been imagining all day.

Esa mañana mi hermana me prestó su nombre, su vestido y su vida entera. Esa tarde, un chico me miró como nadie me había mirado y, por primera vez, me reconocí.

Eight years abroad turned me into the woman I was always meant to be. But when I crossed the threshold at home, the first thing I found was Mauricio’s hungry look.

After midnight I put on the red heels, opened the gate with the remote, and went out for a walk. I only wanted to feel seen. I didn’t expect someone to stop.