He was eleven years old when he figured out what was wrong. It hadn’t exactly been an urgent feeling – not like his visions or dreams – but there was an uncertainness in his heart whenever he was addressed by his name. A strange disconnect whenever he heard someone talking about him using female pronouns and honorifics. An uneasy feeling whenever his mother talked about the ‘incredible young woman’ he would grow up to be.

He hadn’t expected anything to happen when he cut his hair. He’d been wanting to try a shorter style for years now. Then he saw himself in the mirror, his dark curls cropped, and- oh. Oh, it felt like he was looking at himself – really seeing himself – for the first time ever.

He’d felt overwhelmed by joy, only to be crushed with fear as he realised what it meant. He’d been born a girl. He’d lived as a girl. He’d been seen and addressed as a girl for all eleven years of his life. But looking at himself with his hair cut short in a masculine style, he realised his soul had always been a boy.

And the thought of what it could mean scared him.

His parents were so proud of their ‘little girl’. How would they feel knowing ‘she’ never really was a girl? What if his friends didn’t like him as a boy? What if everyone turned their backs on him? What if they ignored his words and called him a girl regardless?

A million other thoughts like that ran through his mind and left him curled up in a terrified heap on his bed. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he was eventually pulled back to reality by a knock on his door.

“Nicky? Are you awake?”

“Come in,” he weakly replied.

Tristan opened the door quietly and then closed it behind himself. He looked concerned but kept himself calm as he approached the bed. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Your mom said you’ve been in here since you got your haircut. Are you regretting your decision?”

Nick didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of how to answer.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I think it looks good. It suits you.”

Nick looked up at Tristan properly. “Really?”

“Yeah. It suits you.”

"You said that already." Nick giggled.

Tristan grinned. “It’s a true enough fact. You look quite handsome.”

Nick smiled shyly and averted his eyes to the floor. Tristan always knew just what to say. He was the best best-friend anyone could ask for. Nick wasn’t sure what he’d do without him.

“I like the haircut.” He confessed.

Tristan nodded. “But...?

“I might like it too much.” Nick braced himself. “Because it makes me look like a boy...”

Tristan was quiet as he absorbed the meaning of those words. “Do you... like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You’re still you Nicky, and I love you whether you’re a girl, a boy, both or neither.”

Nick felt the tears spill from his eyes then. “Thank you.”

They hugged and, in that moment, he felt as if the world was finally okay.

There were of course many times when Nick felt as if the world was against him. But with Tristan, and later Emily, he felt strong enough to face whatever obstacles were thrown at him. When the trio had settled down and become parents, Nick had been worried about what kind of a parent he would be.

All his worries were shattered though when their little bundle of joy spoke his first words.

“Ni! Ni!”

Nick felt so happy, he never wanted the kid to call him anything else. Their situation wasn’t exactly normal, so it didn’t matter that he went by his first name instead of an honorific like dad or papa. Nick was a parent and nothing else really mattered.

He was so proud of his kiddo. The kid who was kind to everyone and joyful, bringing smiles with him wherever he went. He liked stars and stories and hugs. He brought out Emily’s softer side and giggled along with Tristan’s terrible jokes. They were quite a happy family.

And Nick had nearly forgotten about that moment from long ago. Until he saw his son looking in the mirror with that same expression he’d worn long ago. Tristan had tied back his long hair so that it wouldn’t get in the way while they were baking. Now that they were in the bathroom cleaning their hands, the kid could see himself, and he was staring with that same recognition that Nick remembered feeling years ago.

“Nick?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Can we cut my hair?”

“Sure.”

It took some time to figure things out, but eventually they found clothes he liked and a hairstyle that matched who he was. They had even helped him pick out a new name. Sebastian; a nod to Emily’s late brother. Some of his teachers and classmates didn’t understand. But then Seb found a friend in the woods who called him Bas and was as wonderful as Tristan had been all those years ago.

Nick couldn’t be happier. Or more entertained by his husband’s pouting.

“They’re only seven!”

“Exactly, we don’t have to worry about him running off and getting married just yet.” Emily said with a fond eyeroll.

Tristan however seemed to just panic at that statement. “Marriage? No, nope, never. We’ll move to England, find one of those castles with a tower.”

“You can’t lock him up forever, dear.”

“Says you.”

Nick just smiled and sipped his lemonade. Whatever happened in the years to come, they would face it together. And everything would be okay...