i bought my first binder with birthday money from grandma

twenty-five dollars

in a card

with a cartoon cake

and grandma's shaky handwriting

"for something special, sweetheart"

she always called me sweetheart

even when

i cut my hair short

even when

i stopped wearing

the dresses

she bought me

for christmas

even when

i couldn't explain

why her compliments

about becoming

a beautiful young woman

made me want

to disappear

into the floral wallpaper

of her living room

the money sat

on my desk

for three weeks

while i stared

at the website

gc2b

wondering if

this was fraud

somehow

using love money

for something

she would never

understand

the irony

wasn't lost on me

that the woman

who taught me

to be grateful

for what god gave me

was unknowingly

funding my rebellion

against it

i remember

clicking "add to cart"

with shaking fingers

extra small

black

basic

nothing fancy

just something

to make my body

feel like mine

for the first time

the shipping confirmation

felt like a secret

a conspiracy

between me

and the mailman

who would deliver

my first real chance

at seeing myself

in the mirror

without wanting

to look away

when it arrived

i held the package

like it contained

my entire future

which

in a way

it did

the fabric

was softer

than i expected

gentler

than the ace bandages

i'd been using

that left marks

on my ribs

and made

my mother worry

about my breathing

putting it on

was like

coming home

to a body

i'd been visiting

my whole life

but never

actually lived in

suddenly

my shoulders

looked right

my t-shirts

hung the way

they were supposed to

i looked

like me

finally

like the person

who had been

hiding

behind a chest

that never

belonged to them

i kept

grandma's card

taped to my mirror

next to photos

of the person

i was becoming

with her help

though she

never knew it

when she hugged me

at thanksgiving

and said

"you look happy, sweetheart"

i wanted to tell her

that her twenty-five dollars

had bought me

more than compression

it had bought me

breath

it had bought me

confidence

it had bought me

the ability

to exist

in my own skin

without apology

but instead

i just hugged her back

and said

"thank you, grandma"

for the birthday money

for the love

for calling me sweetheart

even when

she couldn't understand

why i needed

to change

to be myself

love

it turns out

doesn't always

understand

but it funds

the journey

anyway

and sometimes

that's enough

sometimes

that's everything

the binder wore out

after two years

but i kept it

in my drawer

next to

grandma's card

because some things

are too important

to throw away

the love

that accidentally

helped me

become

who i was

always meant

to be

her sweetheart

just not

the way

she expected