*Note: This is a fictional narrative based on true stories from transgender teens and myself, written from a transmasculine perspective. This story is in response to the idea that transgender kids shouldn’t transition until they’re 18. That argument says waiting until they’re 18 would give these kids more time to develop, but the reality is that it only gives them more time to be in great pain.

I sit before you in your office chair for my first consultation. My mom sits next to me, and tension is high. We don’t know what to expect; we are jumping off the highest cliff I’ve ever seen.

3 months ago, I finally told my mom I’m a boy. She looked at me wide-eyed with no understanding. She looked confused, sad, angry, afraid, a whole mess of many things.

But this was no new journey for me; I’ve been struggling with this for years. I’ve tried everything to get away from it. I tried to stuff it inside mostly, to try to be like all the other girls. I tried wearing dresses, sleeping with boys, drinking my way through the blur. I tried building up armor against the pain, tried keeping everyone away from me. I tried drugs, cutting my wrists; I tried anything I could think of. I spent years trying, but all I ever got was more pain.

But this new idea that I could actually get to be a boy; this is the first time I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. That I could look like the guys at school, that I could walk down the street and strangers would call me “he”. This is the first time I can actually breathe. It feels intense, it feels big, it feels scary as all hell, but for the first time it also feels freeing. It feels like maybe I could fly one day.

So now I sit here in your office chair with high hopes. I’m finally ready to do this! I’ve stayed up late lots of nights researching online how people transition. I’ve talked to a few of my best friends about how it works.  I found you, I made this appointment, and I convinced my mom to come with me today. My mom’s barely on board, but I can’t wait any longer. I need this NOW.

After all these years of me doing my part, I need you to work with me. I need you to help me get on the right amount of hormones. I need you to walk me through the details of how to inject them into my body. I need you to help my mom get through this with me. I need you to offer us supportive resources, but to let us pick which ones will actually help. What I don’t need is for you to tell me to go into therapy for a year before you think I’m ready to start transitioning. What I don’t need is for you to tell me I need 2-3 strangers to write letters saying they approve what I’ve already known for years.

I know physically changing my body is a big deal. But the much bigger deal would be what would happen if I had to wait a whole other year before starting. Wasting my life away, I might start cutting my wrists again, or I might start drinking more to numb the pain. I can’t focus on school until I can stop worrying about everyone making fun of me, so maybe I’ll just take this year off of school. But who knows what’ll happen after a year out of school. I might make some new tougher friends, or try some harder drugs to numb the pain. What I’m telling you is, PLEASE, do not make me wait!! I’ve been waiting far too long already. If you’re not ready, you’re welcome to go to therapy for a year. But don’t make me pay for the unreadiness of the medical system to treat me. Your unreadiness is not my fault. I’m ready to be here today. The real question is, are you ready for me??