“Do you ever wish you’d been born a woman?”
“I didn’t understand it when I was younger, but I was born a woman,” I said gently. “A trans woman.”
Although the size of a grown man, he was still a kid, so I couldn’t expect him to grasp all the nuances. Less than three months ago, he’d thought his father was dead. Finding out that I was a woman wasn’t the sort of confusion that evaporated after a good turkey dinner and a duet.
He shrugged, making me wonder if I underestimated how much a seventeen-year-old knows and understands. “Sure. But if you could go back, would you put yourself in a woman’s body to start?”
I thought about this for a moment, because he deserved a real answer, not a flippant one. “I don’t know. If I’d been born any other way, I might not have the strength and resilience
