Being a trans woman in the 90's wasn't a well seen thing — but Davina was tough, she had to be.

And then she met you, caring, gentle and loving in the right dose, even if you would take too many when it came to whisky. The clumsy drunk idiot who once slept in the table by accident. 

As you two came home, Davina made her way with you to the shared bedroom, as she put own her nightgown, the brunette travelled her eyes down her body, not pleased.

She would often hear jokes about herself at work — but never caring, still, she couldn't help but be dysphoric sometimes.

“Dear...do I look like a woman ta ye?” Asked Davina in an almost shy tone.