Maya didn't feel a jolt of euphoria like she would have a year ago. She just felt recognized. "Medium oat milk latte, please."
She wasn't a pioneer or a tragic headline. She was just a woman getting ready for work. 28 - Trans - 22 Months Hrt - Just your average...
She grabbed her keys and headed to the local coffee shop. The barista, a kid who couldn't be older than nineteen, didn't look up from the espresso machine. "What can I get you, ma'am?" Maya didn't feel a jolt of euphoria like
Maya leaned in, tracing the softened line of her jaw. Twenty-two months of hormones had done more than just shift the fat on her face or make her skin feel like silk; they had quieted the static that used to play in the back of her mind like a radio station stuck between frequencies. She was just a woman getting ready for work
She sat by the window, watching the city wake up. A few years ago, twenty-eight felt like a finish line she wouldn't reach. She’d spent so much of her twenties waiting for her life to start, convinced that "average" was a luxury reserved for everyone else.