“Come on, smile!” Katie urges me. Despite the cold, I beam a wide, toothy grin as Katie snaps photograph after photograph of me in my warm, snuggly outfit. I’m wearing a pair of tight, skinny jeans that show off my increasingly feminine curves, on top of which I have a pair of long, knee-high boots with a chunky 3” platform heel. My warm pink coat covers a tight red wool sweater, and my long brown hair is covered by a light grey woollen hat.

“Please tell me we’re done?” I beg as I try to warm my red-tipped fingers on my coat.

SIX WEEKS LATER

I blink my eyes awake and roll over in bed, only to be stopped by an unexpected face full of blonde hair that isn’t my own. Turning my head to the other side, another long mop of blonde hair- again, not my own- blocks my view. Once I’ve blinked the early morning tiredness- and a moderate hangover- out of my eyes, the previous night’s events return to my memory.

“Krys,” I whisper, gently nudging the sleeping woman on my left-hand side. “Han, wake up!” I whisper to the slumbering figure on my right.

"God, this should not be this hard," I complain as I sit in front of my dresser, staring at my anxious (but impeccably made-up) reflection.

"You've taken bigger steps that this before, much bigger steps," Sarah reminds me, wrapping her arms around my shaking body. And she's right- I have.

I brush my shoulder-length hair out of my eyes and tuck it behind my ears as I listen to the middle-aged woman talk as she makes notes on the whiteboard. I fidget a little in my seat- I've been wearing my school uniform all day and even though three months from now I'll have worn it for the very last time, I'd pay anything to go home and slip into something more comfortable... Like a cute skirt and a pair of warm tights, as opposed to my itchy cotton shorts and polyester trousers.

"Beautiful, Jamie," the photographer calls to me as I turn my head and look off into the middle distance, giving the photographer a perfect view of the necklace and earrings I'm wearing- not to mention the exquisite white wedding dress! The dress is strapless, but doesn't show off too much cleavage, and hugs my curves beautifully. I have incredibly long fake nails- extending over an inch from my fingertip- attached to each digit and my make-up is applied flawlessly.

Ever since I was a little kid I've known I was... different from other boys. Known that deep down, I'm not what I appear to be on the surface. My name is Nick Thomas, and every day of my life, I wish I'd been born a girl.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

A gentle knock on my door wakes me from my slumber. With bleary eyes, I stare over at my alarm clock- 8:05am.