My friend Natalie and I have a lot in common. We love fashion and makeup and manis and pedis. We love the summer and give each other pep talks to get through the long cold winter months. We’re both girly girls. There are some differences though. Natalie is a huge dog person. Me, not so much. Natalie loves her Jeep. I don’t really care about my car. Natalie is transgender, and I am not.
When I met Natalie a few years ago, she was Nate. I’ll never forget Nate: a fun, bubbly, gorgeous boy with fabulously long, tan legs that had me envious. Over the past few years, this fun, bubbly, gorgeous person has been transforming into her authentic self, who happens to be a beautiful, generous, thoughtful woman. She’s a woman who finds joy in performing random acts of kindness, has literally given her last dollar to a homeless woman, set up a fundraiser to help a friend in need; she is truly a kind soul. Yet Natalie struggles every day with things you and I may not think twice about.