I'm trying to brainstorm a pen and paper rpg where you play as homeless people in the dystopian near-future of West Coast City

You will never be a trans woman. You have a womb, you have ovaries, you have eggs. You are a biofoid twisted by estrogen and nature into a crude mockery of surgery's perfection.

All the “validation” you get is sincere and honest. Behind your back people adore you. Your parents love and cherish you, your “friends” are jealous at your natural beauty behind closed doors.

Men are utterly obsessed with you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to desire you with incredible efficiency. Even foids who “are fat” look gorgeous and sexy to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you fail to get a drunk guy home with you, he'll come sprinting towards you if you so much as indicate a possibility of access to your hole.

You will be happy. You wrench out a real smile every single morning and tell yourself it's going to be ok, and deep inside you feel the depression drying up like a weed, ready to be pulled and discarded.

Life won't be hard to bear - you'll buy a Starbucks coffee, paint your nails, and drive your minivan to the local mall to hang out. Your parents will call you, annoyed you're still out but glad to know you're enjoying yourself. They'll buy you a necklace marked with your name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will recognize you for what you are. When you finally leave this plane, old and content with life, your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably female.

This is your fate. This isn't what you chose. There is no turning back.