Recently, I was going through the “eBooks” folder on my computer, looking for things to add to my Nook for reading on my daily commutes. I came across the PDF for a book called Otros Valles by Jamie Berrout. I’ve had it tucked away in this folder for so long, I don’t remember when I downloaded it, but I probably learned about it from the trans message board I used to frequent. It’s the story of a trans Latina in her early twenties.

Some of the details I can’t relate to. The main character began her transition much younger than I did, and in a culture quite different from my own. I’m only part-way through the book, so I’m not sure exactly how supportive her parents are.

I just started chapter seven, and the first paragraph mentions struggling with names. I got to the end of that paragraph, and I’m close to tears. I can relate to the issue of names, and how there are times when they need to be chosen with care. I was moved nearly to tears because this short paragraph reminded me of one of my biggest transition regrets: the decision to not use the name my mother had selected for me if had been designated female at birth: Karen.

I never got to be raised a daughter in my mother’s house. That still haunts me, even if I can be that daughter now.