In graduate school I also knew someone who transitioned over the course of the year. They presented as a man for the first nine months. In the last month, she started applying makeup, her skin was glossier, her nails were different, and her hair was permed. Before the final, she gave me her notes and I asked if there was anything I could do to repay her. She (still presenting as a man, going by their now dead name) said, "What I would like most is if you would please start calling me <new, traditionally feminine name> and using female pronouns." I said sure, of course. I had never received a a request like that.
The first person who ever said they liked me was a girl in the fifth grade. She asked me to go to a school dance and I said no. She was a lovely person. I found out that a few years ago that they transitioned. Now he has a wife and a beautiful child. We've messaged a few times about random things. I'm happy for him. Remembering what the person I knew from graduate school said, I simply tried my best to treat them as they presented and use the words that they needed. I can't imagine the soul searching and turmoil that precedes the decision to transition.
Beautiful piece, Yehudis. So personal and intimate, like all of your writing. And I liked the story itself. It's got a nice rhythm and the right amount of mystery and expectation-building throughout. Loved reading this.
This is such a beautiful story and so well written. I felt like I was reading the first few pages of a novel that I wasn't going to be able to put down.
I'm happy you named this feeling, which I also see as how we relate to ourselves from the past, our shifting selves, priorities and tastes, how we fit into our skin, and how that then impacts in our current relationships.
In graduate school I also knew someone who transitioned over the course of the year. They presented as a man for the first nine months. In the last month, she started applying makeup, her skin was glossier, her nails were different, and her hair was permed. Before the final, she gave me her notes and I asked if there was anything I could do to repay her. She (still presenting as a man, going by their now dead name) said, "What I would like most is if you would please start calling me <new, traditionally feminine name> and using female pronouns." I said sure, of course. I had never received a a request like that.
The first person who ever said they liked me was a girl in the fifth grade. She asked me to go to a school dance and I said no. She was a lovely person. I found out that a few years ago that they transitioned. Now he has a wife and a beautiful child. We've messaged a few times about random things. I'm happy for him. Remembering what the person I knew from graduate school said, I simply tried my best to treat them as they presented and use the words that they needed. I can't imagine the soul searching and turmoil that precedes the decision to transition.
Here's what I got when I googled Hayeesha:
"The meaning of the given name Hayeesha represents idealism, intuition, romance, generosity, creativity, wisdom and tolerance."
I think that fits well with your story.
Beautiful piece, Yehudis. So personal and intimate, like all of your writing. And I liked the story itself. It's got a nice rhythm and the right amount of mystery and expectation-building throughout. Loved reading this.
This is such a beautiful story and so well written. I felt like I was reading the first few pages of a novel that I wasn't going to be able to put down.
I'm happy you named this feeling, which I also see as how we relate to ourselves from the past, our shifting selves, priorities and tastes, how we fit into our skin, and how that then impacts in our current relationships.
Beautiful thoughts around the topic Yehudis!