I’m still sitting on the edge of the bathtub when I hear a soft knock on the door. Anna.
— “Are you okay? Are you done? You’re taking forever tonight!” she says with a playful tone.
My heart skips a beat, and panic overwhelms me again. I feel like I’m caught red-handed, as if she already knows everything. Of course, that’s impossible. She doesn’t know anything. Yet, her comment, as trivial as it seems, hits directly at the nerve of my fear.
— “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” I reply, my voice trembling slightly.
I hurry to put my clothes back on, my movements becoming clumsy with anxiety. As I put on my briefs, I’m struck once again by the emptiness in the crotch area. It’s not just a physical absence; it’s a visceral loss, a void I can’t ignore. I try not to think about it, but the sensation is now all too real, omnipresent, impossible to forget.
I quickly slip on my t-shirt and fasten my pants, trying to regain a normal appearance. Yet, internally, I feel anything but normal. I take a deep breath, then open the door.
Anna is there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk on her lips.
— “You were slow tonight… like a girl!” she jokes, giving me a teasing look.
I feel my stomach knotting. The joke hits me much harder than it should. She has no idea of the significance of her words, but for me, it’s like a cruel confirmation of what I’ve just discovered. I laugh nervously, trying to mask my discomfort.
— “Yeah, well, I was just trying to look good, you know, someone has to have a bit of style in this apartment,” I retort with a forced smile, trying to match her sarcasm.
She laughs, shaking her head before heading toward the bathroom.
— “Good night, diva!” she calls out, closing the door behind her.
I quickly make my way to my room, my heart still pounding in my chest. Once inside, I close the door and lean against it, closing my eyes for a moment to try to calm my nerves. But the weight of the transformation is still there, oppressive, like a burden I carry without knowing how to get rid of it.
I change quickly, putting on my usual pajamas, which for me is nothing more than a pair of loose shorts. But even this simple act reminds me of how things have changed. The feel of the fabric against my skin, the lack of weight where my member should have been… everything brings me back to this new reality. I slip under the covers, hoping that sleep will come quickly, but my mind is in turmoil.
Thoughts swirl in my head, intertwining in an endless flow of questions and fears. I think about the future, about what this means. What will I become now? How will I be able to continue living normally if these changes persist, or worse, if they intensify?
I think about the pool, about training. What will my teammates say if they notice something has changed about me? Today already, they had looks full of implications, especially when I was in the guise of that girl in the pool. Their eyes lingered on my body with an insistence that made me uncomfortable, even though I didn’t quite understand why at the time.
And now? If I go back to the pool and they see that something is missing… What will they think? Will they have the same lecherous looks, this time directed at me? Will I become an object of curiosity, of mockery?
And Anna… I live with her, and now I’m hiding this huge secret. Will she find out? I can’t imagine how she would react if she learned what happened. And how could she not notice it over time? Especially if other changes manifest. Because that’s what terrifies me the most: that this isn’t just a partial transformation but a process that is only beginning.
I no longer have male organs. This simple fact terrifies me. If I no longer have testosterone, it means my body will start to change in ways I can’t control. Testosterone is what made me a man, and now that it’s gone, estrogen will take over. My mind begins to imagine all the possible consequences, and panic rises within me.
I think about my voice. Will it become higher? Will I one day open my mouth and hear a softer, more feminine sound? My muscles… will they atrophy? I already see myself losing the strength I’ve spent years developing, my shoulders shrinking, my body becoming thinner, more delicate. Will I start to develop breasts? With each thought, I feel increasingly trapped in this body that is no longer truly mine.
And my hair… I imagine it growing faster, becoming finer, softer. Maybe I’ll start to have wider hips, fuller thighs. All of this terrifies me. I don’t know where this transformation ends, or if it will ever stop.
I turn over in bed, unable to find sleep, my thoughts tormenting me relentlessly. The room is plunged into darkness, but in my mind, everything is clear: my life will never be the same. I wonder if I could find a way to reverse all this. Maybe the room… if only I could find it again. Maybe it could grant another wish, a wish that would return what I’ve lost.
Eventually, exhaustion overtakes anxiety, and I sink into restless sleep. But even in my dreams, this transformation is at the center of everything. Scenes swirl in a chaotic whirlwind: mirrors where I no longer recognize my reflection, strange and mocking looks in the pool locker rooms, and always that oppressive sensation of losing piece by piece everything that made me a man.
I wake up with a start several times during the night, heart racing, throat dry. But each time, reality catches up with me, plunging me back into this terrible confusion.