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I always took his comments as office banter, until the night I closed my suitcase, put on my makeup in the mirror, and knocked on his door.

I’d spent years imagining him from the other side of the wall. That night, alone in my aunt’s house, he was the one who rang the bell.

I was twenty-four and thought I knew my desire, until her hands guided mine over her oiled skin and I realized that afternoon would change everything.

I’m 34, with long blonde hair to my waist and a desire I no longer hide: I live to obey. This is my introduction, unashamed and unfiltered.

Three months became nine, and among waterfalls and orchids I discovered that my different body was no curse, but the heart of a desire the village celebrated.

Renata wanted to take up more space; Damián wanted to stop deciding. The ritual granted them exactly that, and by morning their bodies began obeying another desire.

I arrived at his door with a backpack, no family, and no way back. He got home from work at five-thirty, and all I wanted was to be the woman I had always known I was.

When the case forced me to dress as a woman, I never imagined Lía, the woman in the mirror, would drag me into a night that changed everything.

When Sofía whispered in my ear that we wouldn’t be alone that night, I felt a shiver I couldn’t tell was fear or desire. The stranger was already on his way up the stairs.

I’d dressed up a thousand times in front of my bedroom mirror, but that night, for the first time, it wasn’t just for me. Someone was waiting for me on the other side of the door.

I woke with the heels still on and a voice whispering that there was no turning back: each day I would become a little more Lola and a little less myself.

I posted the ad expecting little, but the next morning there was one message unlike all the others: direct, no detours, with the voice of a man who knew what he wanted.

A week after that first night, my feet carried me back to the cabaret. Verónica was waiting with a velvet box and a sentence.

I’m 46, and I’ve never told anyone this. I entered a dead-end tire shop alone, accepted the first beer, and stopped thinking about going home.

I couldn’t say whether I liked everything about that creature or nothing; I only know that, in the heat before the mirror, a new self began to emerge.

Nobody taught me how to name what I felt every time I closed the bathroom door with her clothes in my hands and let out the woman inside me.

It was enough to close the door, put on the lace, and switch on the light to stop being Damián. What he didn’t know was who was watching him from the other side.

I hadn’t dressed in two years. Then I found the key to the room the owner told me not to open, and inside was everything I needed.

I changed clothes, put on coconut-scented perfume, and went back to the bar with one plan in my head: to find out whether that smile was for real.

He thought the locker room was empty when he stepped into the shower. He didn’t count on two strangers watching him, or on how much that look would stir him.