It had been nearly two months since the Halloween party, and everyone was in the thick of the Christmas season. It had been fairly uneventful; simply the life of a ten year-old kid, with memories of thirty years of future events inside of her head, who kept herself as busy as possible. School was absurdly boring as usual, and the effortlessness that my adult mind was able to complete the assignments was beginning to be noticed. I had gathered the reputation of being the smartest student in the class, and even my teacher Ms. Foster noted how I was often in the clouds during class, despite garnering perfect scores on every assignment.

  What was challenging, however, was my interactions with the other students in my class. Since winning the Halloween costume contest, I had gained some popularity since my win had gotten them a pizza party for the class. It also solidified their view of me as a girl, which was a comfort to me oddly enough. My standing as the best student in class kept me a little bit at a distance from the other kids, and the fact that I had mysteriously changed genders, while less of an issue these days, still didn’t gain me any close friends. I found it disappointing since the times when I lost myself in being a kid were quite rewarding. But I was definitely more popular as Maya than I had been when I was Matthew.

  I was definitely used to being a girl, though. My female biology and the fact that I was treated like a girl made me start acting like a girl. At times even thinking like a girl. I wasn’t as ambiguous as I had been just a few months ago; my hair had gotten long enough to style into a short girl’s hair cut that ended just below my ears, and in addition to a little growth spurt I had slimmed down to where all of my former chubbiness had melted away. I was still wearing t-shirts and jeans, and I hadn’t worn a dress since Halloween. I had thought about it, and while I had to admit I enjoyed wearing my costume, it was a bit overwhelming. Plus, winter in Minnesota was freezing cold and a dress wouldn’t be such a good idea.

  Outside the drudgery of fifth grade, I kept myself as occupied as I could. Since being shunted back in time thirty years gave me the gift of extra time, I had resolved months ago to using my time productively. I read as many books as I could, and continued to take my weekly piano lessons. My therapist, Dr. Walters noted how well I seemed to be doing, and we even reduced our sessions to once every two weeks, as well as my regular physicals that the doctors scheduled since my mysterious gender change. Their tests all confirmed that I was just a regular girl, and still couldn’t agree as to how I had changed genders. I wasn’t about to tell them what actually happened, since in all honesty I didn’t know myself.

  Christmas break finally gave me a reprieve from having to sit in class for hours at a time, and I was looking forward to reliving my childhood Christmases. In our family, we would spend Christmas Eve with my mom’s side of the family, the Browns. Mom had a younger brother, my my uncle Trevor, and at this point in our family history the only children were myself, my brother Tim, and sister Janie. Eventually I would gain a couple of cousins from Uncle Trevor and his awful wife Ariel, the first of which she was currently pregnant with: my future cousin Nikki.

  Christmas Eve was the night that Grandma and Grandpa Brown would spoil us kids, and we’d get our big present from them, and we would also get our gifts from our siblings and a few from Trevor and Ariel. In addition to regular gifts, I also received the requisite clothing that kids get, and was curious to find that I seemed to have gotten a lot more clothes this time around, far more than Tim did. I didn’t get a dress (Grandma Brown had asked me if I wanted one and I had refused) but I did get some obnoxiously 90s blouses and sweaters. I wondered if girls actually got excited about getting clothes for Christmas, because I was fairly ambivalent about receiving them.

  Christmas morning was for just the five of us in our family; this was when we got our special “Santa Gift” as well as our stockings. While Tim got a Nintendo game and my sister got a pretend kitchen set, my Santa Gift was a Yamaha synthesizer. I vaguely remembered receiving a Lego train set that particular year of Matthew’s life, and I noted that in this new timeline I was experiencing as Maya it was bound to be different. I was happy though, because this meant I could practice piano at home, and I was very much enjoying learning how to read music. I had had some musical interest as an adult in Matthew’s timeline, when I learned how to play guitar, but I had always wished I had started when I was a kid. Well, here was my chance.

  The sad part about Christmas day was that as per tradition, once we finished our big Christmas breakfast it was time to make the two-hour trek to northern Minnesota to Dad’s side of the family, the Petersons. It was something that everyone but Dad dreaded every year, because it meant packing away our newly-opened gifts and going to Grandpa and Grandma Peterson’s farmhouse. I think Mom hated going up north worse than us kids as she did not think highly of her parents-in-law.

  The dynamic on the Peterson side of the family was very different. Dad had three older brothers, which meant that there were many cousins at the Peterson farmhouse. Dad’s oldest brother, Uncle Wayne, had three daughters named Margaret, Missy, and Melanie who were like older sisters to me. Uncle Burt had a couple of sons who were around Tim’s age, while Uncle Larry had another boy that was a year younger than Tim as well as a girl a year older than Janie. I couldn’t remember if his second daughter would be born yet in 1991. With so many grandchildren running around, we wouldn’t even have the benefit of getting much in the way of presents, just homemade sweaters from Grandma and a bunch of stale cookies.

  I got along with my cousins and uncles, and Grandma Peterson was nice enough despite me never being particularly close to her. The biggest reason we hated going up to the farmhouse was because of Grandpa Peterson. Quite simply, Grandpa was a jerk. He was always overbearing and his way of raising his four boys was to bully them into submission. His only true loves in this world was fishing and his dogs. He was constantly teaching them tricks and putting on shows for people whether they asked for one or not. He had a bad habit of having snide little remarks to say to anyone within earshot, for no other reason than he could.

  We were all sitting around the kitchen table devouring the last few pancakes Dad had whipped up, chattering away about our Christmas gifts this year. “I’m going to be player one,” Tim plotted, through bites of bacon. “But you can be player two, Maya. I’m gonna open it up right now and pop it in!”

  “No you’re not, you two,” interrupted Dad, who began clearing the table from behind us. “I want you two to start getting ready for Grandpa and Grandma’s.”

  “Ugh, do we have to go?” moaned Tim.

  “We don’t necessarily need to… ” Mom piped in quietly as she wiped egg yolk from Janie’s face.

  Dad shot her a look. “We don’t go up north that often guys. And it’s family. I don’t want to hear it again.”

  “But Dad,” I complained, “does anyone even know about my…stuff? I don’t want to have to explain again to everyone that I’m a girl now.” It had been months since I had to explain my transition to anyone, and I wasn’t looking forward to having to “come out” all over again.

  “Your father and I have called everyone months ago about that,” explained Mom. “I know you don’t want to have to explain everything, but I promise you this is the last group of people you’ll have to.”

  “I called every one of your uncles personally, as well as your grandparents,” assured Dad. “They’re all expecting to meet Maya for the first time.”

  “Great, I’m sure Grandpa will be so open-minded and accepting,” I grumbled as I stood up. “Hopefully with all the cousins running around he’ll forget that he’s short one grandson and up one granddaughter.”

  Dad gave a frustrated sigh. “Go and get ready, Maya. And you too Tim – don’t even think about opening that Nintendo game!” Tim dropped the cartridge he tried to sneak in from under the tree and followed me downstairs to our rooms.

  The drive north was snowy, boring, and long. Tim and I poked and fought most of the way in the backseat of our red station wagon while Mom scolded us. We were all dressed in our Christmas sweaters, but clearly not feeling festive. We eventually got to the small crossroads farm town that my grandparents lived in. Back in the day Grandpa had owned a gas station, but eventually business withered since the new highways bypassed any sort of traffic. By 2010 the town had dissolved, but today in 1991 the town was still in the process of slowly dying.

  We parked the car, making our way to the rickety green two-story house they lived in. Even though it was lightly snowing, I was in no hurry to step inside for yet another round of explaining why Matthew was now Maya. I steeled myself once again and approached the covered porch. The farmhouse smelled immediately of mildew and dog hair, and at least one of my uncle’s families was already sitting in the living room. I saw Grandma come in from the kitchen wearing a blue apron to greet us.

  She hugged Dad first, and then went down the line of us, though when she got to me you could cut the awkwardness with a knife. She bent down to hug, though she noticeably looked away and gave only the barest echo of a hug. I knew this was going to be a fun visit already. She unconsciously wiped her hands on her apron, and guided us into the bright green dining room where the food was laid out. Tim ran off to see if any of the male cousins were here yet, and Mom and Janie camped on the couch until it was time to go home.

  I trailed Dad into the bright green dining room where Grandma had laid out snacks and food. She was never a great cook, but at least she had pop. The brownies that Grandma had made looked rather flaky, and I was glad that I had eaten a hearty breakfast. In the corner, Grandpa Peterson was sitting next to my uncle Larry, and as usual Grandpa was dominating the conversation as Uncle Larry listened more out of obligation than of interest. He glanced up at Dad when he entered.

  “Davey! You just get in? Better not have tracked snow into the house.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dad,” replied my father, dutifully. “We just got in, roads weren’t too bad coming up”

  “Well, you managed to make it anyway.” Grandpa started. “I was just telling your brother – who’s that behind you?”

  I froze in my tracks. I was trying to hide behind Dad and avoid notice while I swiped a can of pop, but I failed. I hissed through my teeth. Dad pulled me in front of him, keeping his hands on my shoulders.

  “That’s, um, Maya. Your grand…kid. Remember what I called you and Mom about?”

  Grandpa got an oily grin on his face as he looked me over. “So, my grandson Matt wants to be a girl. And looks like one, too. He even has a pretty little haircut.”

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  My stomach twisted into knots. I wanted to slip out of the room and away from Grandpa’s gaze, but Dad held firm to my arms. “No Dad, like I told you, the doctors said that she was a girl. It’s been very difficult, and we’re making adjustments.”

  “Besides,” I retorted, “my name isn’t Matt anymore. It’s Maya.” I really wasn’t up for taking any bull from Grandpa, though he still intimidated me.

  Grandpa snorted, and waved me away. “Run along, Matt. Us men have to talk about things. And that doesn’t involve little boys who like dressing up.” He gave a chuckle and gestured to an empty chair next to Uncle Larry that was expecting Dad to sit in. Dad pet me on the shoulders assuringly, and shushed me back into the living room. I saw him taking the chair as Grandpa went on another diatribe about something, with my uncle and Dad as a forced audience. It always bothered me how much Grandpa cowed Dad and his brothers.

  I yanked a can of coke out of the cooler and trudged into the living room, fuming. Tim was goofing around in the corner with my cousin Jay, while Mom sat on the couch chatting with Uncle Larry’s wife. Janie and my baby cousin Rebecca were on the floor playing with some baubles. I stomped over next to Mom and angrily plopped down next to her. Mom stroked my hair as I gulped down soda.

  “Grandpa?” she asked, knowing the answer.

  “He called me Matt. As usual, he’s just being a dick!”

  “Maya! Language!” Mom scolded, though with a hint of amusement.

  The conversation Mom and my Aunt Susan were having was about me, and she asked us a few questions about my change out of curiosity. She assured me that I looked very lovely, and it was nice to know that not everyone on the Peterson side was a jerk. About a half hour passed, and Uncle Burt was the next to arrive, with his two boys who immediately started roughhousing with Tim and Jay. When I was Matthew, I got some deference since I had been older than them, but as Maya they pretty much ignored me. Uncle Burt and his wife got the expected explanation about why Matt was now Maya, but very quickly Burt was called into the dining room to be the next audience member for whatever tale Grandpa felt made him the center of attention.

  Mom and my aunts began talking about family life and womanly things, and with the boys tromping around and the toddlers playing, I felt rather isolated despite being in a cramped living room. I mostly sat on the couch wishing that we could just leave already. About a half hour had passed, my drink being long finished, when another series of footsteps came stomping through the entryway from the cold. Wearing a large blue snowsuit was my uncle Wayne.

  Uncle Wayne was very much the father of daughters, who we referred to as the Three M’s because of their names. Going back into Matt’s memories, I remembered Uncle Wayne as a portly man with a gray beard. Here in 1991 though, he was a slightly less portly man with a brown beard. Uncle Wayne and Aunt Patty got a little bit into right wing political conspiracies in the 2010s, but they were always consummately good people who put family first. They also happened to be my godparents, as Mom and Dad lived with them when I was first born. I shuddered as I remembered their funeral in 2016; there had been a fire and had died together. As they came in from the cold, still alive and in their prime, I thought to myself, That’s something I could change.

  Mom greeted them at the door once Wayne had taken off his snow clothes, giving him a warm hug. I think they were the only Petersons that Mom genuinely liked and wasn’t merely polite with. Mom waved me over and I stood in front of the two of them. Uncle Wayne tousled my hair, though quickly stopped. “Sorry, Matt – er, Maya! – didn’t mean to mess up your hair. Force of habit!”

  Aunt Patty came up and scooped me into a hug. She wasn’t as plump as Uncle Wayne, but she held on like a bear. “It’s good to meet you, Maya,” Aunt Patty joked with a smile. I smiled back, half embarrassed.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s true!” shouted a voice from behind Aunt Patty. It belonged to my cousin Margaret, my oldest cousin by about four years. “Matt, you do look like a girl!”

  “Well, I am one…”

  “Let me see!” piped in another voice from the entryway. That was my cousin Missy as well as my cousin Melanie, who were twelve and eleven respectively. “Oh my god, Matt, you look so pretty! I can’t believe it!”

  “Well, yeah, but it’s actually Maya now…” I started as the three girls started crowding me. They started fussing and chattering over me while I noticed my uncle and aunt chatting with Mom. They were looking at me with my cousins amusedly.

  “Come on, let’s go upstairs and talk to Matt,” ordered Margaret, as Missy and Melanie dragged me up the steps by my hands.

  “It’s not Matt,” I muttered, but the girls talked over me as we went to the second floor. We ducked into one of the smaller bedrooms, which I remembered had been my father’s room when he was a kid. It was now just an empty guest room with a brown quilted bed in the middle. Missy shut the door behind us as Margaret and Melanie dragged me onto the bed to sit.

  “Mom and Dad told us that you had changed into a girl, but it’s been forever since we’ve seen you,” explained Margaret. “How did that happen?” All of us were scattered on the bed as the interrogation began.

  “Well, the doctors don’t know what happened,” I began, once again with the prepared story. No need to bring my time traveling in with my gender-swapping. “Apparently I had the outside features of a boy when I was born, but inside I was actually a girl. When I got older, they went away.”

  “So you didn’t know you were a girl?” inquired Missy.

  “How could you not know?” added Melanie.

  I shrugged. “I guess everyone told me I was a boy, so I thought I was a boy. It wasn’t until this summer that we figured it out.” The story sounded shallow, but digestible. Besides, there was no other explanation.

  The girls hit me with many questions, asking me about how I went to school, which bathroom I used, even what kind of clothes I wore now. “I pretty much dress the way I used to, but I had to get clothes that fit better, like girl’s jeans.”

  “Do you wear dresses now?” asked Melanie.

  “I did for Halloween. I went as Alice in Wonderland. I actually won a contest…”

  The girls laughed. “I bet you looked so cute!” said Margaret. “You are kind of pretty though. It’s weird; you look like Matt but…softer?”

  “Aw, come on, you’re embarrassing me.” My cheeks turned red..

  Missy giggled. “You even blush like a girl! You act so differently!”

  “What do you mean? I don’t act any differently than I did before. I think.”

  Missy scratched her chin. “It’s like, you’re calmer. You were kind of a dork before, and kind of annoying.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “She’s right though,” Margaret asserted. “You’re, like, more mature or something.”

  I frowned uncomfortably. I assumed any maturity I had was due to my lifetime of memories as Matthew, but was I really acting differently? I always thought I was acting more like a tomboy. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being demure without my knowledge.

  “Matt – sorry, I mean Maya – is there any chance we could…see it?” asked Melanie timidly, almost in a whisper.

  “See what?”

  “You know. Your vagina. You have one, right?”

  I blushed even harder at Melanie’s request. Honestly, she was the only person who ever requested proof like that.

  “Don’t ask her something like that!” scolded Margaret. “That’s really gross!”

  “It’s not gross, we’re all girls, right?” Melanie defended. “I’m just curious.”

  “Maya could just show her underwear,” suggested Missy.

  “Missy, seriously?” admonished Margaret. “Maya, you don’t have to do that. Don’t listen to these two idiots.”

  I threw up my hands. “If you really want to, I guess you can see my underwear. But that’s it! And then never tell anyone I did that. Swear?”

  The girls agreed, and after I sighed I unbuttoned the fly of my jeans and pulled them down to my mid-thigh. All three of them took a good look, and then I quickly pulled my pants back up. “There, happy?”

  Melanie got quiet. “I’m sorry, Maya. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You really are a girl,” added Missy.

  “Yup.”

  Margaret leaned a bit closer. “Do you want to be a girl, or do you want to go back to being a boy?”

  The question stumped me for a moment. I had thought about that a lot, especially early on from when I suddenly woke up thirty years in the past with the wrong body. It still felt odd, not just the physical changes but the emotional changes as well, but I felt like I was getting used to it. Was there anything I missed about being male? Sure, standing up to pee was nice. But it was actually kind of hard to remember what even that was like.

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m a girl and that’s that. So I guess I’m just going to try my best.”

  “It’s better, though,” Missy claimed. “Being a girl, that is. I think it’s better than being a boy. And you really do make a pretty girl.” Margaret and Melanie earnestly nodded in agreement.

  I pursed my lips. “Maybe.”

  “You know, now we’re not the Three M’s. We’re the Four M’s!” laughed Margaret.

  I chuckled. “You know ‘Matthew’ started with an M too…”

  “But it didn’t count, because we thought you were a boy!” joked Melanie. We all got a fit of the giggles. For the next few hours we hung out in the bedroom, mostly to hide from the boys who were tearing the rest of the house apart while their respective parents yelled at them. We managed to sneak a bunch of treats into the room, and ended up playing some card games and idly chatting. It felt a lot different than the dynamic I had with them before. I had always felt like a sort of little brother with my cousins: liked but not accepted. Now that I was Maya, I felt like a junior member of the group. I couldn’t help but smile as I laughed and played.

  Eventually it was time to open presents, and as usual it was the regular lame presents. Grandma had made us all scarves and each got a package of socks. I frowned as I noticed that the package I had gotten was clearly for boys. The entire family exchanged other gifts, and the kids dug through their stockings full of candy; not the good kind of course, the cheap knock-off brands. Once it started to get dark, Mom began to push Dad to dislodge from conversations and to start making his goodbyes. It took the better part of an hour to make it out the door.

  I was actually sad to leave; I had had a genuinely good time with my cousins. In fact, I think it was the first enjoyable Christmas I had ever had at Grandpa and Grandma Peterson’s. Us grandkids lined up to say goodbye to all of the adults, and the tepid hug I got from Grandma was made up by the bear hug that Uncle Wayne and Aunt Patty gave me. Grandpa didn’t even bother to say goodbye. We finally made it out to the car to start the long drive back to the suburbs of St. Paul.

  Tim and Janie had passed out in their seats, leaving me to stare out the window as the snowflakes dotted the view. An odd feeling coursed through my ten year-old brain with my forty year-old memories. Did I miss being male? In a way, yes. But sometimes it was just pleasant being a girl, especially when no one brought up I had been male. Sure, there was a lot of stupid nonsense, but between the nonsense though, it was agreeable.

  Maybe being a girl was going to work out after all.