Hello, my name is Jenipher but not all the time was like this, I am a transgender woman. Since I have memory remember to crave women's clothes, the first time I wore women's clothing was at 4 years old, my father does not live with me. he was very angry to see me like that and I remember perfectly what he said to me "men do not wear women's clothes, that's just the fags", I panic because what made me happy, was wrong for my family. I had to lead a false life (being a man), at the age of 8 years my parents separated, when I entered high school I left the closet as Gay, over time I began to have a very feminine attitude and my family did not like. I had started to wear makeup and wore effeminate clothes. They said if you're going to be gay, I'd be like the gays in men's attire, and I had to go back to that fake personality that I was wearing when my body began to develop a manly body. I was terrified, I stopped eating because I believed that if I did not eat my body it would not develop that way, I went into purgative anorexia at 15 years old, I fell into a coma for 2 weeks, in the course of time I went to the psychologist for 3 years Where the diagnosis was dysphoria of gender, he spoke to me about what a trans person was, that was where everything was clearer than water. Today I have 11 months since I started my transition and I am proud of what I am, my family loves me and everything is more than perfect in my life.
It was a crisp February evening in the city, and the air was tinged with a bite of winter’s chill. The streets, alive with energy, seemed to sparkle as the glow from streetlights reflected off the pavements, creating a magical ambiance. Every corner of the city had been decorated for the occasion, with shades of red and pink cascading down shop windows, lampposts, and even in the hearts of passersby. Valentine’s Day was in full swing, filling the air with an unmistakable buzz, as people rushed through the night, eager to celebrate love in all its forms. Amidst the bustling crowd, Emma—graceful, thoughtful, and confident—was walking with a sense of purpose, a soft smile on her face. She had been eagerly anticipating this evening for weeks. But unlike the typical romantic plans that Valentine’s Day often brought—flowers, chocolates, or a fancy dinner—Emma’s heart raced with excitement for a different kind of evening. Tonight, she was meeting someone she had never expected to meet, ...






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