I dream’t of a tiny closet with a chiffon and lace black dress. I was afraid it wouldn’t fit my masculine shoulders so I began trying on other pieces. As I wore each outfit I would look myself over in the mirror, turning from side to side. But my attention kept floating to the dress. 

It looked aged and outdated. Nothing I’d wear on a date, I thought to myself. Still, I wanted to put that dress on. There was a man sleeping on a blue reclining La-Z-Boy whom I kept looking back at. I was afraid of his judgment, his disapproval of me being so feminine. Something so taboo as a man in a dress. 

I didn’t feel like a man though. I held the dress up, trying not to let the lace material touch the wooden floor. I pressed it to my chest and returned to the mirror. My eyes shifted from my reflection to the sleeping man nervously. 
So what if he sees me, I thought. I want to look pretty.
Carefully I unzipped the back, I was afraid my masculinity would tear the chiffon material. The material separated easily and fell open in a vee. 

“This is it,” I whispered. I lowered the dress to step into the unzipped opening and pulled it up my body. I put one arm in carefully, in case I was to big. But it was a perfect fit. More confidently I pushed my other arm in and shrugged the shoulders into place. It fit! I was so happy, if only I could zip it up. 

Reaching behind, I patted around for the zipper and pulled it up as far as I could before reaching over my shoulder to grab it. When the zipper reached the top I smiled happily in the mirror. I was beautiful, finally. 

I couldn’t help myself, I turned to the man for approval, who was still sleeping. I turned and shifted poses in the mirror checking for pinch points in the shoulders and chest. In my searching I realized I had breasts. I wasn’t sure what to do with them. I had never, ever, been so self-conscious in my life, you could see everything! 

Casting fear aside I adjusted them to round into the center of each side. Happy with them I settled to buy a bra later, I was finally pretty. 

Then I woke up. Smiling because I finally felt pretty. Even though it was just a dream. I was a woman, and I had never been happier. This morning when I woke up, I have a chest again, and a five o’clock shadow, and angular facial features again. But that’s just the surface. Underneath, I’m a beautiful woman, its just…only I can see her.

Oh, and by the way, the sleeping man, was me. My judgments soundly asleep.

With Love