So, I wrote to you.

Yep. As it happens, this is the second letter you’ve gotten from me. Lucky you.

In my message I said that I’d been reading your site for a while and that I thought I might be an autogynephile. But, I said, I was confused because the traits and fantasies you talked about didn’t really line up with my experience. I didn’t feel like a sexual deviant. I told you that the only part that really rung true was that I wanted to be a girl, was attracted to women, and that I fantasized about having lesbian relations with girls.

I then told you I had read the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association Standards of Care and asked you if you knew any trans-competent therapists in my area, because I felt like I needed to talk to someone.

You responded about a week later.

You said that the fact I was attracted to girls and wanted to be one meant that I might very well be an autogynephile. You told me that I didn’t need to have all of the other “traits” you had discussed on your site. And, as if to reassure me, you told me that some young boys grow out of their wish to be girls. Which, thanks for that. It was super helpful to hear that and definitely didn’t give me an excuse to not do anything about my feelings. Nope.

Regardless, in your response you agreed that I ought to talk to someone about my feelings and gave me the name of someone in my area. You then wished me luck.

Do remember that? Do you remember wishing the little trans girl luck after she reached out to you for help dealing with all of the oppressive crap you saddled her with?

For what it’s worth, I do appreciate you trying to give me the name of a therapist. I even looked up the name you gave me, but I couldn’t find anything online or in the phone book. So, I deleted your reply. I was too ashamed to let your message sit there in my inbox, and I hoped I would grow out of it like you said I might.

I mean, I didn’t, of course. It would be kind of absurd to imagine that a kid who sought out details on medical transition and read the HBIGDA Standards of Care might just “desist,” but whatever.

Anyway, when I came out to my mom two years later, I did so using the words you taught me, and the information available on your site. And, when I recanted two weeks later, I did so with the fear you gave me — that I was just a sexual deviant.

I didn’t actually get out from under all of the oppressive crap you saddled me with until I was twenty-eight. Even then, a little voice followed me around for the first few months of my transition saying, “You’re a pervert. An autogynephile. A deviant. It’s all a paraphilia. You’re not a real girl.” I have to imagine the voice was yours. The words certainly were.