Evan Urquhart

Now, with that out of the way, let me tell you a story about what happened when I went to pick up my testosterone prescription, which is in my old name.

My script is still in my old name because the doctor is 3 hrs away. She gave me a years' supply, and a year ago my name change wasn't final yet. Apparently they can't change the name on a script without seeing the documents in person, and as I said, it's a 3 hr drive.

So, I went to the pharmacy and the pharmacist assumed that I was picking up a prescription for someone else.

...allow this to settle into your mind, for a moment. The pharmacist read the name, looked down at the 5'2" person standing in front of him, and concluded that the IM testosterone injections must be for a woman named Vanessa for whom I was just picking them up...

"What's Vanessa's birthday again?" he asked. And later, "Has Vanessa used this medication before? Does she need instructions on how to do the injections?"

I'll tell you, it was weird. I've hated the name Vanessa since I was a kid- ever since I understood what a strongly female coded name it was. But a part of me wanted to say "I'M Vanessa! It's ME. It's MY prescription."

It's part of transitioning late, this feeling of an uncomfortable break from my past self. Did Vanessa live one life, and am I living another? Or do we share an unbroken experience? Depending on the time and day, both things can feel true.

I sometimes like to make this joke about Vanessa: She is a troubled woman from my past whose dark secrets I can never quite forget. But, that's not really right, is it?