Curate, connect, and discover
So you're just sitting in front of your computer, doomscrolling to distract yourself from the nonsense dysphoria telling you you're supposed to be a dragon. Suddenly, you hear it: someone knocking at your door, very, very insistently. You freeze at this, immediately considering just ignoring them instead of having to deal with whoever- but then you hear a loud clickety-clack, and the sound of your front door slamming against the wall. Panic grips you as you hear loud thuds and something skittering on the wooden floor, and you lock your wide eyes with the dragoness. She looks harried and like she hasn't slept for the week. Because she hasn't, she's an empath. One you've driven up the wall without meaning to because she's only supposed to sense other dragons' emotions, and none are known to live in your neighborhood. So she had to follow where the radiation of misery was the strongest. That led to you.
The dragoness somehow conveys all this with just a glance as she walks up to you, and takes out some metal bits to weave an enchantment into. This she throws over to you, and you reflexively catch it-
only for a wave of relief course over to you. You suddenly feel them very vividly- the weight of horns on your head, the wings on your back stretching out cramps you didn't know you had, the cold floor your tail is laying on. Even the sensation of your clothes against your scales. For the first time, you stop feeling almost crippled.
The dragoness' posture slumps at the same time with yours. She slurs out a quick explanation that it's an enchantment that creates a sensory illusion of what you're supposed to be, as she doesn't have the gear for a transformation ritual at the moment. Then takes a few wobbly steps towards your bed to pass out on it.
You sit there, still processing the emotional whiplash and euphoric from affirmation through the guilt you caused the dragoness, and wonder if it would be too much of an ask to edit the illusion to make you a girl dragon when she wakes up.