We had a milk cow and from age six I milked. The milk probably saved our lives. When Bessie died we were thirteen. I walked ten miles to the Aaronson ...arm and in the dark of the night stole one of their hundreds of milk cows. We named her Bessie — we thought all milk cows were named Bessie."Cindy! Don't ever; don't ever let Bessie out in the daytime." I thought all cows looked the same but I didn't know. Cindy didn't either.We were clean. Some memory when we were young and Dad had fewer. “But, nothing. I really like you. I don’t meet young handsome guys who are actually nice. Most guys treat me like some kind of whore or freak.” “I’m sorry, that must be hard.”“It is, especially in my kind of work.” “Can I ask you something personal?” I stammer. “Sure, go ahead,” she replies.“How did you get into this kind of work?” I ask. “Ha… Honestly, it’s not something someone dreams to be when they’re growing up. But… A woman like me doesn’t have many other options. Being transgender…”. More

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