Shivering, malnourished, and on the brink of collapse, ameliated crawled towards the women’s shelter. She clawed feebly at the door that was labeled “Women Born Women Only” until a volunteer opened it.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please… I need help.”
“I’m sorry, my child,” the volunteer said. “I cannot let you in.”
“But I’m a woman!” ameliated said. “You’re my last hope!”
“I can’t let you in, but there is still hope,” the volunteer said. “You got here just as I was about to change our sign.”
So saying, she took down the old one and put up a new one that said in bold, equal lettering: “CIS WOMEN ONLY”.
ameliated heaved a sigh of peace and contentment.
“I see,” she said. “I understand, and I die… happy.”
Above her a glowing rift opened in the clouds and Harry Benjamin descended from the heavens to usher her on to her new life in her perfect new body.
“Well done,” he said. “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
As they ascend together into the heavens, ameliated looked down and saw that all across the land her words were being heeded. No longer would the sisters she left behind be denied access to vital services, basic survival needs, or safe spaces for being trans - only for not being cis. It was the dawn of a new age, a golden age of tolerance and happiness.
“We’re only sorry we didn’t recognize how wonderful she was until she was gone,” the radical feminists said, shedding many glittering tears.
The trans* women probably said something, too, but ameliated couldn’t hear them.