There was this old Cheyenne proverb that my namshim used to bring out whenever I had difficulty dealing with my emotions. How did it go? Oh yeah. "Our first teacher is our own heart." I could never be sure of that, to be honest with you. Hell, half of the time, I wasn't even sure what it was my heart wanted. All I had going for me my whole life was all this pent up anger and frustration that I would weaponize against others. I guess that was just how I dealt with my life in general.

For starters, my name was Nonoma when I was born. Yeah, like the spirit of thunder. Namęšéme thought it fit me well, especially since I apparently wanted to be born during a thunderstorm one summer day. I don't remember much of my mother at all. She died when I was very young, almost too young to remember. Namęšéme told me stories about her all the time. He would tell me how she would jump onto the back of a horse and try to ride it without a saddle or stirrups. She didn't always succeed, but she never let it get to her. She just tried to hold on for dear life no matter how many times the horse would try to shake her off. I guess that was her whole approach to life, especially when it came to relationships. According to Namęšéme, Náhko'éehe wasn't exactly the type to fully commit to a relationship, but it didn't really matter. She just got her rocks off hooking up with as many guys as she could. That's how I came about, by the way.

It's funny, really. Náhko'éehe was pretty young when she had me (about sixteen to seventeen years old). I don't think she was ever ready to have a kid at that point, so she left me with Namęšéme while she had fun with her friends and took a walk on the wild side. Makes me wish I could've done the same thing as Náhko'éehe when... well, when my homeroom teacher got pregnant with my kid.

Now I know what you're thinking: "Where are you going with this? How did you even get the teacher pregnant anyway? How old were you when this happened?" Well, here's the thing. I was only twelve years old when my homeroom teacher took advantage of me, and I think it was when she was taking advantage of me that I realized just how fucked my life could be if everyone found out about my life before I started transitioning. I never wanted that to happen, not when Namęšéme and I were already trying to get away from that crap.

It all started when Namęšéme and I had to move from Malta, Montana to Vinita, Oklahoma in order to find more room for our cattle. It was such a tedious road trip for me and my namshim, lasting about twenty hours and twenty-seven minutes that whole time. We made some pit stops along the way, so the drive to Vinita took even longer than that. It was when we finally made it to Vinita that Namęšéme said something to me.

"Oh, my sweet little Jessica," Namęšéme told me. "I really can't believe how fast you're growing up."

Jessica was the name I chose when I began to live as a girl. I was surprised by how quickly Namęšéme accepted me as I'd seen myself for years. He'd always seemed kind of... old-fashioned, I guess you would say. It was all about upholding traditional and conservative American values with him, so I never imagined that he would actually start referring to me by my new pronouns or my new name, especially as soon as he did when I came out to him. Then again, love is probably more powerful than tradition (well, in my case, anyway).

I just rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are we there yet?"

"Not yet," Namęšéme replied. "Though I can see our new ranch up ahead. You can see it, too, right?"

I squinted as the old, beaten up pick-up truck Namęšéme was driving closer toward our destination. "Uh, yeah?"

Namęšéme just smiled at me. "Atta girl." Soon enough, he pulled into the dirt driveway of our new ranch. "Well, we're here."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, we'd made it. I immediately proceeded to get out of the passenger side of Namęšéme's truck and look around. I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing. There must have been at least fifty acres of land on this property, enough to hold a lot of cattle and then some. The whole place was partially wooded as well by some oak and elm trees that seemed to form a crescent around it. I could also tell just by looking that there were some shrubs that had been planted near the front porch. The grass on the property was equal parts brilliant blue-green and wheat brown, and every few spots there would be a golden stem with a large, plume-like, soft, golden-brown seed head. The parts that flowered would shine a somewhat metallic golden sheen towards anyone that saw them.

"Well?" Namęšéme asked me. "What do you think about the ranch, Jessica?"

I tried to play it smooth. "Eh, I guess this is okay. I mean, I've seen better, but this is okay."

"C'mon, Jessica, don't be like that. I had to work harder than usual just to be able to even afford this place."

"Sorry..."

Namęšéme barely heard me even say it. He grumbled to himself for a bit as he made his way up the porch steps and into the house. I followed him inside not long afterwards like a stray cat desperate to get some food.

Namęšéme and I spent the rest of the day unpacking our things and reminiscing over what we'd done together. We talked about the days when we were living in Malta and handling the cattle at our old ranch. We talked about when we would go to the Villa Theatre and watch whatever was playing at the time, indulging in the atmosphere that would come with it. And we talked about the friends we'd made in Malta and how much we would miss them. I felt bad leaving those people behind. Sometimes, I didn't get along with them, but I knew them and I knew how much they meant to me.

"We had some good times in Malta, you and me," Namęšéme said. "But all good things must come to an end."

"Uh-huh." I kept unpacking some stuff from the smaller boxes he'd assigned me. "Hey, uh, Namęšéme?"

"Yes, Jessica?" Namęšéme asked me.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Do you think the new people here will accept me as I am?"

"Well, I don't see why they wouldn't. You're as much of a girl as they come."

"I don't know about that."

"Jessica, Jessica, Jessica..." Namęšéme stopped what he was doing and placed his hand on my shoulder. "We only just arrived today. Besides, we haven't even met anyone new yet. It's better to wait and see what happens."

"Are you sure?"

Namęšéme just nodded at me. "I'm sure. We just need to give this time."

I hoped for his sake that he was right and that everyone could see me as I saw myself. I didn't get time to think any further on it before I heard someone knock at the door.

"Could you get that for me, sweetie?" Namęšéme asked me. "It might be a next-door neighbor."

I trudged over to our front door and opened it to see who it was.