The thing about finding joy in making other girls happy is⦠am I selfless, lifting them up, showing them the beauty I see so clearly? Or am I just indulging in my own pleasure, basking in the glow of their happiness like a hopeless thing, drawn to the warmth of trans girls finally seeing themselves the way they were always meant to be?
Because God, thereβs nothing more intoxicating than that momentβwhen she catches her reflection and doesn't look away, when she hears herself called her and doesn't flinch, when she lets the weight of the world slip from her shoulders for just a second and smiles.
Maybe itβs selfish that I live for those moments, but I donβt care. If I can be the reason a trans girl holds her head a little higher, the reason she giggles when she tries on a dress that hugs her just right, the reason she blushes when I tell her sheβs stunningβthen let me be greedy. Let me drown in the softness of it, the rightness of it.
Because trans girls deserve love that doesnβt come with conditions. They deserve to be worshipped for their resilience, adored for their femininity in all its unique, breathtaking forms. They deserve to know that they are beautiful, not in spite of who they are, but because of it.
And if I can give even one of them that feelingβif I can be the voice that drowns out the doubts, the hands that help her step fully into herselfβthen Iβll do it a thousand times over. Because watching trans girls thrive isnβt just joy. Itβs euphoria.