The application says, “Briefly explain why you want this surgery.” I write “Since childhood, I’ve been a pear in an apple’s body.”
It’s been a nightmare, growing up with the wrong coloration, the wrong texture, the wrong shape. I’ve been living a lie. You can’t possibly know what it’s like being round and red when
in your mind you’re green and bulbous with a point.
Now, I’m transitioning. The doctor has a picture of how I’ll look: Small, round, and white? Wait. What kind of pear is that?
Oops, the doctor says. I thought you wanted to be a pearl.
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