Page 79 - North Star Magazine 2022

Dysphoria
by River Ashe
The dress was beautiful, a smooth black satin that glided over my skin like water, and I found myself reaching for it before I could talk myself out of it. The woman at the counter looked me up and down, searching for something I couldn’t quite identify, and gave a barely-perceptible smirk from behind her mask.
“Would you like to try that on? We aren’t doing returns.”
“Sure,” I replied, handing my backpack to my best friend and following the woman back to the changing rooms.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“Oh, uh...”
For the gazillionth time, my tongue froze inside my mouth. River, I
want to say. I’m River.
“[xxx],” I choked out, the dead name forcing itself from between my
lips without permission. “I’m sorry, no. I’m River.”
She must have thought I was insane, but she scribbled my name on
the door’s whiteboard and unlocked it for me.
“Let me know if you need help.”
The door clicked shut behind me and I was left in a tiny cubicle
with only a bench and a mirror for company. My reflection stared at me with disgust, a large, vaguely woman-shaped figure in ripped jeans and a stained hoodie, clutching a piece of black fabric that immediately felt too good for my body.
It didn’t take me long to rid myself of my clothes and slide the soft fabric over my head, feeling it settle into the dress’ cut and shape. In the mirror, the figure eyed the gown critically but could find no fault with its slimming effect or the beautiful vintage style of the skirt.
My hands settled into the pockets nestled into the side and a spark of joy shot through my body. I looked absolutely beautiful. The satin mesh along the neckline and sleeves showed off my tattoos, everything was perfect...
This isn’t right.
I looked perfect, the dress fit perfectly and complimented the bright pink and yellow of my hair.