Homebrew
Happiness

Magic Memories: Retelling My Life's Newest Stories

2026-05-05

Introduction:
 
I started my Bachelor’s degree in 2016, 10 years prior to my eventual graduation. I was a little lost at the time to say the least, but I needed something to do for the semester prior to starting my LDS mission. So off to BYU I went.

Ironically, my first declared major was exercise science, although I wouldn’t end up taking a class in that area of study until 2023. Instead, I bounced around in math and business classes, doing little more than biding my time. I lived off-campus, made a small handful of casual friendships, went on a date or two, and generally had a pretty underwhelming couple of months. And then I left school for the first time.

In the following decade, I’d change majors on at least three more occasions, and I’d take two more multi-year gaps in my education. I always figured I’d come back eventually, but eventually never had a definitive timeline, despite my best efforts.

As the years between me and that first directionless semester grew, the more lost I became. By 2024, I was so disengaged that I was spending most weekends rotting on the couch watching YouTube. My workdays were a constant cycle between staring blankly at a wall and panicked last-minute scrambles.

It was during that summer that I was finally broken and empty enough to hear the voice of a very repressed and timid part of me.

“Wouldn’t life be better if you were a woman?” she asked.

I’d only wrestled with that question for a few days before it became overwhelmingly clear that the future I really truly wanted lay beyond a gate of self-acceptance. Transitioning was the way forward, and my choice was whether I wanted to be a more engaged parent, a more attentive partner, a more curious student, and a more reliable employee, or if I was okay letting life lack meaning just to maintain the status quo. How valuable is the maintenance of relationships dependent on my performance of masculinity? How much is a fully-lived life worth?

I chose to transition. As much as I—at the time—despised the emotional experience of living life, I could feel the potential joy of life on the other side. Maybe it was divine foresight or maybe it was a final attempt at hope, but I knew that I could create a better life.

Unfortunately, my transition experience has been terrifying, slow, and fraught with oceans of self-doubt. But this article isn’t about the two year process of dealing with and overcoming those experiences and emotions; this article is about what came after.

Graduation (Late-April 2026):

I arrived at the lineup for the ceremonial walk through campus a solid hour before I needed to. This is, admittedly, a new experience for me. I’m not used to caring so much about something that I’m willing to sacrifice an hour of bumping around the house so I can go stand in line. But I did care. I didn’t want to rush through something that I was hoping would be a transcendent experience. Luckily, the experience was worth it.

During that hour of waiting around, I was flying solo with nothing to do and no one really to talk to. But then Liz showed up, someone I hadn’t seen in close to a year. I asked to sit down, and we had a relaxed conversation. We talked about life, graduation plans, future goals, the weather in St George, that kind of thing. It was a lovely experience and something I wouldn’t have had the confidence to do two years ago.

The walk from the upper quad, through the bell tower, down through the massive cheering crowds was the transcendent experience I was hoping for and so much more. The bright blue sky. The green spring leaves on the trees. The universal smiles. The professors and family and community members I saw. The tears in my eyes. The overwhelming relief, excitement, joy, and contentment with the whole experience. And I got to enjoy it all with Julia by my side, the first person to fully demonstrate love for this new version of me. This experience was the completion of the full circle. It was the pinnacle moment for me after finally unlocking the gate into a future where I can feel all the all the emotions I’d ever hoped to feel. It’s a memory I will always treasure.

And then I stayed for the entire commencement ceremony. I actually wanted to be there. I reveled in the opportunity to experience every moment of this celebratory weekend. The graduation speeches were cliche and classic. The people I sat with were cynical and silly. Commencement as a whole is a bizarre and beloved tradition, and I loved it.

I hung out with my parents at the grad fair afterwards. I let them take cringe pictures of me next to the SUU logo and introduce me to their colleagues. I left after taking a couple of laps of the ballroom, and then went out to shoot fun pictures of myself. I wanted to remember this moment.

Commencement ended up being a late night, but McKayla was kind enough to get up with me the next morning and curl my hair before convocation. I cared about my appearance for once, and I loved feeling the confidence of being “put together.”

I was once again early to the event. So early that I left and went to grab Dutch Bros. I wanted to have the sentimental experience of drinking my favorite drink from the Spring semester of 2025. The hot chocolate was still amazing.
 
Back in line at convocation, I had most of an hour to kill. Through some stroke of good luck, I had the chance to reconnect with a friend I haven’t had a real conversation with since 2014. A while later, I cornered a photographer and had them take a picture of me with my professors. I was social. I was a little nervous, but I was present and happy.

I cried a bit on the way into the stadium. I smiled, gave high fives, and cheered for my friends during the ceremony. I cried again walking onto the stage. The announcer used my chosen name as I accepted my diploma. I owned my identity in front of several thousand people all at once. I looked out into the crowd and was unabashedly me.

In the aftermath of it all, I kept looking for opportunities to drink every drop of joy from the weekend. I wore three different cute outfits across the two days, and I loved it. I was me, and I wasn’t ashamed.

I went for a run on Friday between convocation and my graduation dinner. I wore the tank top I’ve had for most of a year in public for the first time and ran on the same trails I walked when I was struggling with question of transitioning two years prior. I saw people and felt excitement to acknowledge their presence and share a bit of myself with them. I was pleased to be alive. I took a couple Strava crowns too lol.

During the graduation afterparty, I ate a selection of food I’d requested (lemon bars, popcorn, and cheese slices) that was meaningful to me. I watched a movie (The Phantom Menace) that I love to an unreasonable degree. I cared about enjoying myself. I can’t tell you how different it feels to actually care. How different it is to feel.

The Women of the Wasatch Disco Night (May 2026):

At some point in April, I applied for the Breaking Barriers scholarship because I’m a fiend for an opportunity to write about myself (can you tell???). I received an email this last Monday night informing me I had won one of the scholarships and was invited to attend the club’s fundraising disco, drinks, and awards party. Was I surprised to get a positive email on Monday evening? Absolutely. But even with the short notice, I was all in on making the trip happen. Because here it was, right when I needed it, the opportunity to enter the next phase of my life.

First off, huge props to Julia for finding the pants that were CRITICAL to my disco outfit and for keeping me company when I was excruciatingly nervous perusing the women’s section of DI Thursday evening.

Second, thank you to Mónika for responding when I reached out on the WoW discord and asked if someone would want to be my buddy for the night. She was gracious enough to let me ride her coattails for the first hour or so before I finally started to get a little confidence going.

As my confidence built, I did start to make some friends. I danced. I ate my tacos, and I smiled loads.

I can’t begin to completely express all the thoughts, feelings, magic, and peace of that night. I began the evening by feeling the early teenage me: nervous to show up to my first dance, nervous to be perceived, nervous to make connections. And I grew into who I am now: confident, friendly, grateful, and content.

During the awards at the end of the night, I found myself feeling the waves of emotion that always seem to come with these life changing moments. How could I feel anything other than overwhelmed by the amount of unquestioned acceptance and encouragement I experienced… I mean my gosh. To be welcomed into a space for women as a woman. That’s an experience I didn’t think I’d ever really have, but damn it felt good. For me, life really is better as a woman :)

I can’t say enough good about the Women of the Wasatch organization, the people there, and what they’ve already done for me. To Nika and Allie—the two who initially reached out to me—thank you a million times over. You’ve changed my life.

The morning following the disco, I pulled myself out of bed and drove out to one of the training runs for my race at the end of the month. Again, I was rather nervous. I’m not really sure why. I guess I still haven’t completely dealt with the fear of not being accepted in running spaces, but while I was out on the trails, the confidence came back. I ran into a small group of very kind and very friendly people. They were gracious and let me tag along.

These four became my good friends almost immediately. Again, I just can’t say enough good about them. The experience of having the other Emmeline of the group refer to me and say “who does this bitch think she is?” was very funny, gender affirming, and so meaningful. They’re the loveliest people.

I hung out after the run, connected with a few more people, and went back out to finish my long run. I ran shirtless in a bra on an absolutely gorgeous trails. I came back and reveled in the joy of it all. I mean, what a 24 hours, right? What a beginning to this new era where these kinds of events, and these relationships, and these experiences are what I will be working to create.

Conclusion:

I’m once again nervous at the outset of a new adventure, and I have hopeful visions of the future. I dream of finding someone I know everywhere I run. I dream of sharing my love for running and love for life with everyone who can put up with me. And I’m doing what I can to make that future my future.

Thanks for reading through these memories. I hope they helped you feel some optimism and hope for your own life. Happiness and joy are possible. I promise. Emotions and feelings are temporary, and life is worth living.

Yours always <3
Emmeline

HomebrewHappiness

Magic Memories: Retelling My Life's Newest Stories

Homebrew
Happiness