Wayne Dequan Robinson III. My given name. I haven’t gone by Wayne in over three years, not since we took that trip to Ghana. That’s where my family started looking at me as more of a creature and less as their child. “It’s fine that you’re gay, Wayne. Whatever, we’ll get over it. But why try and be a woman?” My mother was trying to stay calm when she caught me trying on a wig I smuggled on the trip. “You are so ugly with that thing on…”
When we got back to the states she didn’t talk much to me. Just a phone call on Sunday’s to make sure that I wasn’t the unidentified murdered T-girl on the 6 o’clock news. She ended every conversation with ” I love you, WAYNE.” Major emphasis on my given name. I had no idea what my father felt about it but I assumed he was just as displeased as my mother. When we talked it was always brief and we only stuck to the basics; weather, school, money. A three minute conversation.
I loved being away at school. I still felt like some furry beast with horns and claws the way folks looked at me but at least they called me by MY name: Aaliyah Wayne Harris but I wasn’t going to tell my father that so I kept it simple, “I’m 3rd in my class right now…”
My best friend here at school, Torey asked me all sorts of personal questions during my transition. It started with “why the name”: “My first wig kind of looked like Aaliyah’s signature haircut and, honestly, I kind of look like that Black girl from Skyfall, Naomie Harris.” To more personal questions like, “are you going to cut off your dick?” I always left that question alone though, because I really wasn’t sure. I love being a woman. I started taking hormones about two years ago and I just got my tits last month but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to part with my member…
Torey’s ex-girlfriend, Carmen use to tell me to start a GoFundMe for the operation of money was what I was worried about but that wasn’t my concern. I just wasn’t ready to part with it yet. “Aaliyah, ‘girl.’ Ladies don’t have dicks. That’s why you got your ass handed to you in the club last year when that dude tried to cop a feel and felt a snake in the water.”
I guess she was right. That dude was horrified when he got a handful of what I was packing. He acted like he was grinding on Frankenstein. He punched me so hard, my wig flew off. Everyone saw me as some sort of monster, an evil trickster trying to turn dudes gay. I was so embarrassed and Carmen would never let me forget it. So glad that Torey dropped that ass.
Torey was also kind. Genuinely interested in my life and well being. My favorite straight boy. Well…straight adjacent…Recently I’ve been catching him look my way, checking me out. Like today, as we were getting ready for the club, he called me beautiful. For years now I’ve felt like some sort of beast but Torey wiped that all away with one compliment.
And now that we’re at the club, he’s dancing on me. I assumed it’s because he’s drunk. Holding my waist and grinding on me seemed so innocent…until I felt a bulge in his pants. Does he know that he was hard? Is he too drunk to know that I’m the one who gave it to him? I’m so confused but I don’t want him to let go. For the first time since this process began, I feel wanted. Grabbing his hand, I led him out the club and down the street to my apartment, stumbling a bit in his drunken strut and my discounted heels. We reach the door and I feel him begin to grind on me again. What has gotten into him and why do I like it so much?
Finally, we’ve made it to my bed and he immediate starts to kiss me. His hands unhook my bra and he instantly begins to marvel at my freshly created breasts. From looking to touching to tasting, he has taken over my body. Has he forgotten that I’m still, physically, a man? Why is tugging on my panties like he’s searching for rumored treasure? I roll on top of him and pin his hands to the bed. I don’t want him to see my dick. Where could we possibly go from here?
Suddenly I find myself under him. He’s stronger than me has reversed our positions. I’m nervous but his kisses are so good. Moving from my lips down my neck and to my nipples, I didn’t even notice that he ripped off my lace drawers until it was laying there bare.
My dick flips out, totally untucked now and I rush to cover myself. “What are you doing? Don’t look at me like that, like some sort of monster! You knew what it was!” I’ve never been so embarrassed. Turning my head and closing my eyes, hoping to disappear. He starts laughing but it stops when he turns my chin towards him. His soft lips lock onto mine. I’m caught off guard. Torey is looking me straight in my eyes now.
“Aaliyah, I like you. I like all of you.”
“You don’t think I’m ugly? Gross? Some sort of monster?”
“Oh you’re a monster alright.” He’s got his hand on my package. Grinning. “But beautiful none the less.”
For the first time in a long time, I feel beautiful. I feel accepted. Beyond male or female, I feel human and not like a monster.