Tomorrow I stand before a judge. I will plead that I deserve to be named Diana. The judge will decide whether or not my plea has merit. And then the same judge will rule.
Like most other milestones in my transition, this one has my stomach in knots. I know rationally that this one is almost a rubber stamp. I have followed the Standards of Care. I’ve paid my filing fee. I’ve waited for my turn on the court docket. It should be almost a formality.
But it doesn’t feel like a formality. It feels like a big thing. A major break from my past.
I like to jest that after my court ruling it will be illegal for anyone to call me by my old name. That’s not technically true, but it’s not far from how it feels. Once the judge legally affirms my name I’ve got that backing me, no matter what others try to push upon me. That’s not nothing.
Anyway, I’m rather freaked out over the technical details about my court appearance. I’m mostly sure I’m going to screw it all up.
But in the odd chance that I get it right… this is the last night I will legally be known by my old name. After that you go to jail for calling me that. Or so I like to tell myself.