A young woman stands in her room. Though it was some 23 years ago she was given life - and some 10 since she was ‘first given a name’ - it is only today that she has chosen her own name to supplant it.
Your name is JUNE EGBERT and you’re finally starting to figure yourself out. You are the godly Heir(ess?) of Breath, the President of the Battleship Film Appreciation Society, and PRANKMASTER EXTRAORDINAIRE - second only to Nannasprite. You enjoy PROGRAMMING (though you aren’t very good at it), playing VIDEO GAMES with friends, and watching FILMS OF DEBATABLE QUALITY. You had a time, years ago, when you realized that a lot of your favourite films sucked. But now that’s fine. There’s something truly enjoyable about a corny, bad movie. Cringe Culture is dead.
You’ve just spent the last hour or so with your ectobiological sister (that’s always felt slightly odd since you were always just friends growing up, but calling her ‘sis’ can be fun sometimes) being showered in attention and praise. With anyone else, you might read this over-exaggeration for the sake of placation, a performance to make a show of giving support. But with Jade, she’s got nothing but earnest bones in her body. She’s overjoyed by your revelation - she’s probably known almost longer than you have, given her Harley Hunches - and the concept of being able to call you ‘sis’ right back. Someday soon you may take her up on her offers of assistance redefining yourself physically, but for now you’re taking the space she’s given; feeling out this new state of being. It’s all so new, despite a decade of it brewing in the back of your mind. It’s only recently you’ve dragged this lurking beast of a thing into the light of day.
You’ve apologized for stealing her clothes and makeup and hair-clips, and she understood. It was an important part of sussing yourself out. You’ve gotta try it before you buy it sometimes, right? For now she’s left you with your hair loosely braided, a blue band holding your loosely-curly locks together just past the nape of your neck. You’re just... staring in the mirror, smiling at the woman who stares back at you. You’re not quite how you want yet, but steps have been made. Even just stepping out of the closet, you feel like the person looking back at you is less of a stranger than all the years past. You clap your hands together excitedly beneath your chin and bounce on the spot, a little wave of euphoria washing over you at having been so readily accepted.
You flop back onto your bed with a sigh. There’s still a tightness in your chest, but it’s one of emotion-heavy joy, rather than existential angst and self-loathing. You can’t wait to go pal around with Dovesprite later on, her messages seem as pumped as a Strider can be. Which, surprisingly, is actually pretty pumped. But for the time being, it’s time to just... enjoy basking in this feeling of affirmation.
Your name is JUNE EGBERT and you’re doing alright for yourself.
