It's a stark contrast -- but Adrian is happier than he's ever been.
"This is the skin I'm growing, and I'm getting more comfortable in it," says Adrian, of Featherston.
"I love this body. When I started taking the testosterone, I felt this sudden self-confidence."
"I love being able to look at my muscles, and be like, 'yeah, I'm ripped! I'm a guy'!"
Adrian, like 2 to 5 per cent of the world's population and a small handful of Wairarapa residents, is transgender -- and is transitioning, both socially and medically, from female to male.
Those who are transgender identify with the opposite sex to that which was assigned to them at birth, and desire to live and be accepted as such.
Transgender people will often, but not always, explore options such as hormone replacement therapy and gender reassignment surgery to transition into their preferred identity.
"Basically, there's a difference between sex and gender," says Adrian.
"Sex is what you're given at birth by a doctor based on what's between your legs. Gender is what's in your head and how you see the world.
"For me, the two didn't match up."
Adrian says he began questioning his gender identity as a teenager and began seriously wondering if he would be happier "as a guy".
"In about Year 11, I was dating a girl, and I wondered if I just wanted to be a guy so I'd be in a normal relationship.
"I wondered if I just didn't like the gender roles that were expected of me as a girl.
"But then, I realised I didn't like the way my body looked as a woman."
In Year 12 at Kuranui College, Adrian played Bassett in Once on Chunuk Bair (which has an all-male cast) -- and prepared for the role by emulating a man in any way he could think of.
"Most of my drama class were girls so, for the play, they'd just pull their hair back and put on a uniform," says Adrian, who is now studying stage and screen arts at Whitireia Polytechnic.
"But I went full-on guy.
"I tried walking like a man, I worked on lowering my voice, I didn't wear make-up, I stuffed socks down my pants, I bound my boobs with ace bandages -- which I don't recommend, as you can mess up your ribs."
When Adrian saw his new masculine image in the mirror, he liked what he saw.
"I was like 'this is cool'. I felt so much better than I did before.
"But then I freaked out -- I didn't want to feel that way.
"From then on, I tried to pretend it all away.
"So, I started wearing really girly clothes and lots of make-up, and made my voice sound really high.
"From my last year of school to halfway through my first year of uni, I was the Barbie Doll woman."
Eventually, Adrian accepted his identity as transgender -- and announced his intention to transition to his performing arts class mates.
"They were cool with it.
"But one person was like 'you have such nice boobs'.
"I was like, thanks."
After coming out to his closest friends, who excitedly compiled a list of possible male middle names for him, Adrian started on his physical transformation -- starting with lopping off his hair.
"Often, when you tell people you're transgender, they're like, 'oh, you're getting surgery.'
"But there's so many other things you have to go through first -- like the first male haircut.
"The first one never looks good, because you're always scared to cut it too short.
"I went through a stage of piling my hair under a beanie -- but I just looked like an emo kid from 2007."
Adrian then went shopping for male clothes, bought his first binder -- a tank top made from medical industry nylon to compress and flatten the breasts -- and changed his name by deed poll.
He chose his name from a song titled Adrian by Jewel which he loved as a child.
"Even then, I'd think, if I were a boy, I'd want my name to be Adrian," he says.
He now takes two testosterone pills per day -- which mimic the effects of puberty for young men -- and will shortly be getting testosterone injections.
Surgery is on the cards, he says, but it will be expensive and he will most likely have to travel -- as double mastectomies are not offered in New Zealand for non-cancer patients.
While Adrian says he feels more comfortable in himself, the journey from female to male has not been an easy one.
Reactions to his transition from the Featherston community have been mixed -- some have been supportive, others are awkward and uncomfortable.
"To my knowledge, there are only three trans people in Featherston," said Adrian, who directed and performed in a dance show about mental illness in Wairarapa.
"I work at the supermarket, and it cracks me up when you see people silently panicking about what to call you -- sir or ma'am.
"Then you get the ones who ask questions like, 'how do you have sex?' Or 'can you have babies'?"
Others, he said, are just "nasty".
He has had bottles, rocks and other objects thrown at him from cars, slurs shouted in the street, threats made against him, and people going out of their way to avoid him in public.
"There are places in Featherston I can't go anymore.
"I can't go past the skate park without crossing to the other side of the street.
"One time, I was dropping something back at the library, and all these people stated yelling 'trannie' all at once.
"At work, I've had people see me and go straight to the next checkout, or move their kids away from me like it's something they can catch."
This breaks his heart -- but he is grateful for his supportive friends, "amazing" parents and the art of dance .
"There were a few tears when I came out to mum and dad -- they went through a bit of a mourning phase.
"But now, to them, I'm Adrian.
"Dance really helps when I'm down -- when you dance, you're just movement, neither male nor female."
To help reduce stigma against trans people, Adrian said he would like to see trans identities discussed in sex education in high school -- along with other sexual identities.
"At school, we get taught that if you're not straight, you're gay.
"But in reality, there's a whole spectrum of sexual identities -- like the spectrums of light in a rainbow."
