Going through boxes of old letters and came across one from my friend Ally (unsigned, but I remember when she—I thought of Ally as he then, but that’s only because it didn’t occur to any of us to use the pronoun associated with what a person was inside, only what was on the outside—slipped it under my dorm room door). So much pain and frustration at being stuck in the wrong body. I hope she’s living her best life now, these many years later.