The summer continued. Even in my former life I had been the odd kid who got so bored as summer vacation wore on that I would be excited for the school year to begin, at least as a break in the monotony. This was no longer the case as I relived my childhood with my adult memories intact, because I had no desire to go back to fifth grade. And what’s worse, it would be as the female version of myself! While my family was adjusting to their brand new daughter/sister, I had not announced my gender to any of the kids in my neighborhood, not even to my best friend Randy. I knew that in the coming school year I would be forced to publicly be female, and I was not looking forward to it..

  Being stuck in the body of a child with knowledge of the future was something I struggled with every day. I tried to think positively; I was stuck reliving elementary school, but at the very least would use my time productively. I had the benefit of forethought, so things like brushing your teeth regularly and staying away from candy became more than vague childhood rules. They became ways to improve my new future life. I kept thinking up different ways that I could use my time better as I crawled towards becoming an adult again and regaining the autonomy that grown-ups take for granted.

  For example, video games were one area I thought I could improve in my second time through life. I spent a good portion of my previous youth in front of a screen, and I postulated that if I had used that time learning a skill instead of wasting it playing games it would be a good use of my time. I had always wished I had learned the piano, so I begged Mom and Dad to let me take lessons; something that most children would never do. They immediately acquiesced, seeing it as a way to help me transition since it was an acceptable hobby for a girl to have. So once a week, I took a piano lesson at the local high school. It wasn’t much, but one simple weekly lesson was a welcome deviation from the monotony of childhood life.

  Speaking of weekly rituals, I regularly saw Dr. Walters. For the first few weeks I saw her practically every day, but since that first troubled month life had sorted itself, we started meeting only on Thursdays. I appreciated the chance to gripe about being stuck in a childhood schedule, and Dr. Walters spoke to me if not as an adult, at least not with a patronizing tone. During one of my therapy sessions with Dr. Walters, a certain topic was brought up while we sipped tea in her office.

  “You know, Matthew, you will be starting fifth grade in a little less than a month.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m sure you know, you have to be registered as a girl now,” she explained. “In fact, your parents have to change a lot of official forms because of your transition. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

  I rested my head into my hand. “I’m getting used to being a girl and everything. But I’m not looking forward to going back to school. I’m probably going to get bullied. I don’t know how I’m going to explain to kids who have known me for years that suddenly I’m a girl. It’s not like I look like a girl or anything. I don’t even act like one.”

  “I notice your hair is getting longer.”

  I twirled a strand of hair with my fingers. The back hairs were starting to hang to my shoulders. “Yeah, it’s getting a bit shaggy. It’s growing faster than I thought it would. Getting rid of this dumb mullet is still taking forever; though.”

  “Yes, it takes a while for hair to grow in.” She gestured at my clothes. “Is that a new shirt? Light blue is a nice color on you. And those shorts look nice too.”

  I went a little red. “They’re girl’s shorts. Got them last week. They fit a little better than my old ones. I figured this color wasn’t too girly.”

  “You know there’s nothing wrong with being girly, Matthew,” she reminded me.

  “I know, I know.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Speaking of girly,” she started, “there is something important that you need to think about. What do you think about your name?”

  “My name?”

  “Unfortunately, Matthew isn’t a girl’s name. It can be difficult for some girls if they have a boy’s name.”

  I leaned back in the chair. My name was becoming a bit troublesome. If strangers on the street overheard Dad and I talking, and they overheard my name, we received odd looks. I still appeared vaguely ambiguous, but once someone said “Matthew” I was back to being solidly boyish. However, as an ever-increasingly feminine boy. I found it easier if they just saw me as a girl, which is the main reason I wasn’t looking forward to school. I would have to explain to every kid in my school that I mysteriously changed genders. It was even worse than being ambiguous.

  “I’ve thought about this. A little.”

  “What have you been thinking?”

  “It…might be better if I changed it to something else,” I said somewhat nervously. “I get weird looks sometimes, mostly with people I meet for the first time.”

  “You could always go by ‘Mattie,’” she suggested.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve always hated when people call me Mattie. It sounds infantile. Mom calls me that if she is babying me. Or if I’m in trouble.”

  “You actually have a unique opportunity here. Not everyone gets to choose a new name for themselves. Have you thought of one?”

  I scratched the back of my neck. “I figured something close to Matthew. But ‘Matilda’ sounds stupid. Like that girl from that kid’s movie.”

  “Which movie was that?”

  I froze. The movie Matilda wouldn't be released for several years. “Maybe it wasn’t a movie,” I pivoted. “I still don’t like that name.”

  Dr. Walters stroked her chin. “It could just start with an M. Martha, perhaps? Melanie?”

  I shook my head. “Martha is worse than Matilda. And I have a cousin named Melanie.”

  “Mary? Margaret?”

  ‘I have another cousin named Margaret. And “Mary” just sounds boring.” I took a breath, “There was one name that crossed my mind. It has a good sound to it. And wasn’t taken by one of my cousins.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “I was thinking that…I mean…I always liked the name…’Maya.’ That could work,” I offered, scratching the back of my neck.

  Dr. Walters clasped her hands. “I think that’s a wonderful idea! Maya is a beautiful name, and I think it really suits you. Why not try it out, and see how it fits?”

  “What, now?”

  “Why not?” Dr. Walters shrugged, and gestured for me to speak.

  I grinned. “Good afternoon, I’m Maya Peterson. Pleased to meet you.” We shared a laugh.

  Dr. Walters checked the clock. “It looks like we’re out of time today…Maya. Why don’t we go tell your mother about your potential new name?”

  I rose dramatically to my feet. “Eh, why not?”

  Dr. Walters had me tell Mom after my session of the new name I had chosen, and I suspected that she had been waiting for me to come up with one. Dr. Walters assured us that this was a big step, and encouraged us to use the name as much as possible in order to get used to it. Mom gestured to the front door calling, “Come, Maya, let’s get in the car!”

  When we got home, Dad and my siblings were watching the Twins on TV in the living room. Mom made a big, dramatic entrance. “Dad? Tim? Janie? I want to introduce you to your sister Maya! This is going to be her name from now on!” I stood behind her rolling my eyes and blushing.

  "Say, now that's a pretty name," Dad said as he regarded me. "What do you think, Tim?"

  Tim nodded briefly, then went back to the baseball game in complete disinterest.

  Janie babbled “Ma-yah” a few times with her spoon in her mouth.

  From that moment on I was Maya, at least at home. It still felt a bit odd, being called a different name. We all slipped up for the first week or so, but something about the situation really solidified the change in my head. It was as if I was a brand new person, which tracked because I literally was a brand new person. And it was becoming more normal every day. The boy and eventual man Matthew was starting to fade, and what was left was a girl named Maya.