I noticed her, of course. Everybody did. I don’t imagine there were many rooms she could walk into where she didn’t get noticed right away.

It’s not that she was the most beautiful woman in the world or anything – though she was beautiful, no doubt about that. And it’s not that she was somehow physically striking – god, she was probably only an inch or two better than five feet. No, she just had an aura. A pull. Something that made you turn and look even before you knew what you were looking at.

So yeah, when she walked in, I noticed her right away.

What freaked me out was that she noticed me.

My palms went sweaty instantly. My knees turned to water. I felt a blush creep over my chest and neck, rising into my face. I’m not going to lie, that was more or less my reaction any time anybody looked directly at me. Somebody like her? Well, that was more or less unprecedented.

I swung my gaze down into my coffee cup as she got in line. The light caught her hair in my peripheral vision in the most distracting way. I chanced a glance up and yep – she was looking at me again. She quirked an eyebrow with an impish little smirk on her face and I darted my eyes away again. 

I immediately felt self-conscious about the usual pile of things I stressed over in public. Why did I choose to wear this? This top makes my shoulders look way too broad. These jeans are comfy, yeah, but they’re so sloppy. I look ridiculous. I look-

I glanced up, sensing somebody approaching me. There she was, right in front of me. Smiling, sweet, and so adorable. My heart skipped several beats, all in a row. She quirked her head to the side just a touch, and said “You are so cute.”

Me? I thought. Cute? My head swam. I mean, god, look at her. I felt cute on a good day, but next to her? Next to her I wasn’t cute. Next to her nobody was cute. When she walked into a room, everything else became background. 

She must have seen the shock and disbelief on my face. “I mean it,” she said, in a quiet voice that was like a murmuring river, like the breeze through oak trees. My eyes locked on hers and I was transfixed. “I know you can’t see it, but it’s true. Trust me.”

Trust me. Those words snagged on something in my mind. I could feel it. I was tethered to her, by her eyes and her words and her presence. I took a breath and I felt like I was floating away, suspended in air, dangling down from her. Everyone else in the room disappeared. We were alone, completely alone.

She moved in a little closer. Or maybe I leaned in more. Maybe the gravity between us just pulled us together. I don’t know. Regardless, her eyes filled more of my vision, and I swam in them. “I want you to trust me and know that you’re beautiful. You trust me, right?”

My head nodded. I didn’t will it to, but it didn’t matter. I’m not sure I knew how to right then. I wasn’t in my own body, not really. I was in her eyes.

And I did, I trusted her. She was so… so much, so beautiful and vibrant and present. I couldn’t argue with her, couldn’t even think things that she wasn’t saying. I was fully a part of her, consumed, full of her and filling her.

She was right. I was beautiful. This body, that I’d hated, that I’d finally started to change and learn to accept and maybe tentatively love in good moments… it was beautiful. It didn’t feel like she put that idea inside me, not really. It felt like she found the dark hole it was hidden away in and pulled it out, dusted it off, set it out on display, front and center. I was beautiful.

She smiled a little wider, seeing the way my eyes changed, seeing the way my mind changed. She touched my cheek, a soft, loving gesture. 

And she blinked, and we were back in the coffee shop, the people around us bustling and eating and going about their days. She took a little step back. I looked down at myself.

I saw my legs, strong and firm. My arms, warm, tanned. My whole body looked new to me – capable and alive and desirable and right. I bit my lip, my lovely, full, kissable lip. I looked back up at her. I didn’t know what to say, but she nodded, and I could tell she understood.

I never saw her again, but that’s okay. Same way that you’ll probably never see me again after this. That’s okay. For now, just look into my eyes, and trust me


(This story is brought to you by a wonderful person who did a wonderful thing and gave a donation to the Trans Lifeline. The idea – a mousy trans girl who’s hypnotized and given confidence – was beautiful and topical and honestly a little outside my wheelhouse. It was a challenge to write; I hope I did it justice, and that all of you – but especially the lovely person who requested it – enjoyed it.)

(Is there a story you’d like to see? I can make that happen. Make a donation to somebody good – we’re focusing on groups that help trans folks right now – and send me the receipt. I’ll write you whatever you want.)

My favorite hypno stories are happy hypno stories. This is wonderfully sweet.