My dad wasn’t horrible, he was mean when I was younger, but he mellowed over the years. But for him I was a boy, so he treated me as a boy. This isn’t his fault; it’s mine for fearing him so much I never told him I’m not a boy. My fault for not pressing my mom, after briefly telling her I wanted to be a girl.
Steps is a short, touching recount of childhood memories from Beth.
Meeting my surgeon’s nurse - Progress has been made! On Friday I had a consultation with the surgeon’s nurse. I handed her the form I’d filled in, which the surgeon had given me at his...
38 minutes ago