small>Five years ago to keep my job I began to use my sister’s name… My attitude needed to change if I were to stay employed... Bridgette Riley saw a need to feminize my perspective… Even my wife Julie was open to changing the sharp edges of my attitude... Elaine became in touch with qualities Dan had long suppressed, even a self he long desired... I had come to blame everyone but me.
I wasn’t ready for the doorbell to ring at 6:00 a.m., but then nor was it normal for me to get out of bed wearing a nightgown and put on a cozy pink robe to answer the door. I did, welcoming in Bridgette who said, “Elaine, a woman’s day usually begins earlier than Dan’s. I wanted to save you an extra shower as there are some things we need to take care of.”
“I see you took off your makeup last night. It even looks like you cared for your skin. Do you have something to tell me about? Are you used to doing that?”
“I called my wife if you need to know,” I talked to Ms. Riley kind of abruptly expecting her to give me a hard time or to get in a long explanation. “She gave me instructions over the phone; she even treated me civilly.”
Bridgette smiled and continued to talk to me calmly, “I want you to take a shower, shampoo your hair, and use this conditioner. You’ll need to use this cream to remove the unwanted body hair.”
When I got into the shower I considered using the cream on my head to foil their plan of having me as a passable woman. Alas, I didn’t want to be bald. I was also fighting my attitude, to prove I could outsmart people. I didn’t see any difference in using the shampoo and conditioner Bridgette had to give me until I used them the second time. Suddenly my hair glowed like it was healthier and having the fullness I see in Julie’s hair. When I turned off the shower to put on the cream I realized I couldn’t see or reach an area on my back. I did what I could hoping no one would notice.
Bridgette called into the bathroom, “Be careful to rinse your hands and not to put them in your hair or rub your eyes. If you need help just ask.” I had no intention to ask for help or do anything more than I had to.
I waited over the prescribed time before turning the shower back on. I’m not a hairy guy but losing what I had was more noticeable than I thought it would be. There was a very noticeable difference in drying my legs and arms. I observed my underarms still had hair. Instead of getting back into the shower I found a woman’s razor and shave cream and used them to make my underarms like a woman’s.
I called out to Bridgette, “I need a blow dryer for my hair.” She responded, “Just pat it dry for now and wrap it in a towel turban style.” Right, I patted it partially dry and figured that was good enough. I put the robe on, now enjoying its softness, and walked out to where Bridgette was waiting for me.
Bridgette required me to pick out the clothes I would wear today, including panties and a bra. I put the small balloons filled with gelatin into the bra cups and found myself being particular in making sure they looked balanced and nice. Putting on the panties I pushed my male parts back between my legs. My pantyhose and skirt felt like Julie had indicated they would. I almost enjoyed the feeling of them coming up my legs and how they felt when the skirt brushed up against them.
I'm not used to a shirt or a top without an undershirt. Again I find myself liking the feeling and fighting against my enjoyment of it.
Bridgette asks, “Would it be okay if I brush out your hair a little bit before breakfast?” I said, yes and she had me sit as she brushed it out using a hair blower that she had not told me of. I protested the feminine look, she told me to get used to it for now. I was going to the kitchen to find what I could eat for breakfast, but she told me to follow her.
We left my apartment and went up to hers; she said, “We rarely use this way.” As she opened the door at the top of the steps she called in, “I have a new woman with me.” Two women came to meet me, “This is my wife Cathy and this is our daughter Ashley. You two this is Elaine Hall, I will be working with her.” I was not expecting a pregnant woman to be her wife or a teenager to be introduced as her daughter.
I was sure I caught her making a mistake and enjoyed speaking up to correct her, “My name is to be Elaine Woods.”
“We’re going to call you Elaine Hall, so at work, they won’t readily identify you with your regular self.” That made sense to me, but the others paid no mind. Bridgette said, “Cathy will help with your hair after breakfast. It will probably be a week or so before we introduce you to going to a hair salon.”
“I hope I improve fast enough that it will not be needed,” I told her.
“Oh, it will take longer than you might expect. Breaking bad habits and developing new habits and behaviors usually take at least forty to fifty days to become normal for a person. You won’t always need to be Elaine, but I don’t want you to fall back to old ways and your stinking attitude. Your new ways will be well established before you stop using Elaine and being your female counterpart.”
Ashley was happy that her mother checked my attitude at the door. Ashley took me by the hand, “Let me show you around.” She showed me the way they usually came in and up to the second floor. “Mom usually uses these rooms for meeting with clients. The dining room is ours but sometimes used with her friends like you. There’s the kitchen, laundry room, living room, and others one might expect to find. Bedrooms and other living areas continue up to the third floor.
“I’ve been Bridgette’s daughter for over a year now and this is my room. They've already been legally married. I think Mom will have the second baby whenever they’re ready that she becomes pregnant.” Cathy called us down for breakfast.
I asked, “Did you know a client named Ronnie?” Ashley stopped and looked at me, “You know you shouldn’t do that. What if in the future someone would ask me if I knew Elaine’s real name? Would you want me to talk about you? It’s rare for me to meet someone like you. If I told you I was a street kid; it wouldn’t mean I’d permitted you to talk about me. Confidence here goes two ways, do you understand that?”
When we got to the kitchen Bridgette asked, “What were you talking about?”
“Just small talk Mom,” Ashley said. We sat around a table in the kitchen and I found myself caught up in the conversation as one of the girls. I couldn’t believe it was only 7:30 a.m. and I felt like I had done a lot.
After we were done, Cathy told me, “Go take care of things and then wash. We’ll go back there and I’ll do your hair so you’ll be more comfortable shopping as another woman.”
When I was ready, I found Cathy had a small salon of her own back off from the kitchen. She had a lot of hair in strands of three to five lying on a tray, she called them extensions. “If you don’t complain too much I’m going to use these, color your hair to be a prettier and more vibrant brunette. It will be different enough that your co-workers won’t easily see any resemblance.”
“You make it sound like I might enjoy this step-down and see it to be a step up.” Cathy paused and I knew I didn’t say something to her liking. Cathy stared at me, “You don’t see anything wrong with what you just said, ‘Do you?’” She called out of the room for Bridgette.
“She’s nothing more than a bastard in a dress; he thinks being a woman is a step down below him. No wonder they see him as a problem child. I just don’t know why you will waste time on him.” She told Bridgette what he said, “You make it sound like I might enjoy this step-down and see it to be a step up.” I agreed it was what I said, and that I didn‘t see any harm in it.
I said, “But you say you're second-class citizens don’t you?”
Bridgette calmly said, “Some women say they’re treated as second-class citizens because women like your supervisors are paid little more than you and if they were a male she would be making at least $6,000 to $10,000 more with more perks or benefits. But she does not see herself as second class. Lynn who hired you is more highly trained than most at her level. She doesn’t lord it over others because it’s just who she is. She’s highly motivated to do what she does. It might have caused her to see something special in you that Cathy doesn’t see as being there and is in no small group.”
I look to Cathy as I hear Bridgette say, “Help her to see the person her boss does; if you can’t I’ll need to take her to a salon yet today.”
I felt like I had been insulted, but Bridgette had done it in such a way I wanted to say thanks. When Cathy started to partition my hair and fasten the extensions into places; she had me turned away from the mirror. It was a long tedious process and I was glad I wasn’t the one doing the work. It was interesting as she knew what she was doing. It is a complicated process for me, but she made it look easy.
When Cathy was lowering me back in the salon chair to color my hair, I thought she might want to drown me. She had an expression that she soon spoke out loud, “No, I won’t drown you or do anything mean. I’m just not as diplomatic as Bridgette when someone upsets me. I just think it’s cute sometimes to see what Bridgette gets to start with.”
“So you think I’m a piece of work, do you? What do you give her chances for helping me,” I asked, interested in her thoughts?
“I continue to be impressed with Bridgette. Since she has not only agreed to help you but has you in the downstairs apartment; I take that to mean she knows what she needs to do to help you, help yourself. I kind of look forward to seeing the person you will become. No, it is not a given that you will be salvageable. But if I had to, I’d bet she can help you do it.”
She colored my hair twice I think. Then she set to cut it and set it in various size rollers. I moaned as she was doing it. Once she had my hair all in rollers, she made sure it was dry around my eyebrows. She applied, was it a wax or glue thing I wasn’t sure nor did I care. That is until it set and she pulled them; one above and one below each eyebrow. I looked up to the mirror, “Yuck, they belong to a girl!” Cathy set me under the hairdryer, set the time, and walked away. She said something but I couldn’t understand anything under the dryer. ‘How do women talk to each other under these things?’
When my hair was dry, Cathy began to undo the rollers and comb and brush out my hair. Soon my hair was taking the semblance of a woman’s hairdo and I was looking more and more like a young twenty-something woman. I was a woman and a few years younger than Dan. The comforting thing about it; no one would be seeing me as Dan.
I tried to switch back to Oscar the Grouch mode as Bridgette told me, “Go downstairs and change into the outfit I have out for you and the two-inch heels.” I tried to argue, but Bridgette didn’t argue back, I just had to go change. When she and Ashley came down to take me shopping, I was informed I would change and try on at least seven more outfits today.
Once out the door, I was glad to see Julio wasn’t there. But she knew the taxi driver’s name, Jerry. We went to a row of women’s stores. Thankfully they were not on Fifth Avenue as I knew this was coming out of my salary. The first building wasn’t even a clothing store; now I wish it was. We went up to the third floor where a woman measured me for breast forms. What I was using hadn’t quite filled the bra cups, but these were what the woman called very nice size C breasts. When I complained Bridgette said, “Your wife already wears a C-cup bra and that is before the baby’s born and she begins nursing.”
The next thing I did more than complaining a little about, I underwent being shaved and fitted for a faux vagina. All the complaining gained me nothing. Bridgette did have her phone out saying she was ready to call Julio or Hector. This was humbling enough. There was a doctor there, who examined me and asked me, “Are you sure you would like the male hormone blocker for at least three months?”
The only thing crazier than the question was me saying, “Yes” and signing the release. The doctor said it was something I could change if I wanted.
Now, I could feel the change as well as see it. And yes, I will now have to sit down to pee, but it wasn’t like I was going to walk into a men’s room and pee the way I looked.
Ashley was already down in Chiermon’s, it’s a women’s clothing store when we caught up to her. She introduced me to Jennifer Tuft who measured me once again. She said I was a size 12. She was going to have me try a bland gray skirt suit that Ashley quickly said was for an older lady who stopped being interested in others. I giggled and agreed. We walked around and it was Ashley and Bridgette who found the clothes that looked more appropriate for a young professional woman.
One blouse had a part that I was not sure if it was a fashion scarf or a women’s tie. Ashley had me try it on and then she showed me the various ways to wear it. It worked well with a skirt and jacket as a suit or two with other skirts alone. Despite the salesperson, we bought one women’s suit with a skirt as well as dress slacks, two more skirts, and three blouses. We would have gotten more but Bridgette and Ashley told me the fun had just begun.
The next two women’s stores were okay, but they had things we could come back to if we didn‘t find something better. Bridgette said I need at least one dress for evenings out. Everything was either a skirt or a dress and I complained about that.
Bridgette let me pick out a pair of slacks and a top I was comfortable with. I changed into both and came out to show them. Bridgette took me over to a mirror and simply said, “This is why I am being particular.” True enough I looked more like Dan. When I changed out of it, she had Ashley hold onto them in case I complained while in the store.
We did get a colorful full skirt, a pencil skirt, and a knit dress all of which I willingly agreed to. I wanted to get a particular sundress, but Ashley picked out one better for now. She said I could wear it into the fall. We called Jerry and loaded his taxi; Cathy would meet him at the house.
I had wanted to stop shopping but Bridgette insisted we needed to get some makeup and stop at a lingerie shop. Makeup was bad enough; I insisted we just go to a department store to get the panties and bras I needed. Maxine’s was not as bad as I feared. I was sure everyone was looking at me as some weird man, but I never actually caught anyone looking at me.
I had enough trouble on my own I didn’t need to imagine anymore. When I needed the help of the saleswoman, she soon guessed I was a man dressing as a woman. She was nice and soon had me feeling more comfortable. “The first time out is probably the hardest. You present yourself very well I hope you will soon relax and just enjoy being you.” I couldn’t believe she thought I was doing this by choice.
I had never seen Ron or any other man dressed as a woman except those who were in drag. Even a percentage of them looked convincingly female. I thanked the saleswoman. Buying bras, panties, and nightwear went smoothly from there. Ashley saw me smile and said, “It is nice to see you relaxing and enjoying it a little.”
I tried to get upset with her but when Dan’s voice began to surface I quickly caught myself. Bridgette took me aside, saying, “You will regret it if you intentionally embarrass my daughter when she is trying to be helpful.”
It was the first time I apologized for knowingly being rude.
Other than some water or raspberry tea from a vendor, we did not stop to eat.
It was 4:30 when we made it back to the apartments. Bridgette stopped with me in my apartment. She had to respond to several phone calls but had shown me how to cut off the tags making sure I found everything. I had to either hang my clothes or fold them and put them away. She did what she needed to, all the while watching me. I had put away most of my clothes and placed some makeup on the vanity and other cosmetics in the bathroom by the sink.
Bridgette had finished her calls, making notes and marking a calendar on her phone. She asked me to sit with her and we went through what she observed. I had thought she had been lax and sloppy in keeping track of me. Her observations proved me wrong. She identified the areas I need to work on. She even helped me to describe how my words and actions could have offended some people and have been better said.
She described one incident I did not remember until I realized it was a work incident with one of my clients. It wasn’t even a matter of achieving what I wanted. As Elaine, I was calm and objective enough to see how I could have handled it better.
It was now 5:40 p.m. and I knew the coworker I worked with on that project, would still be at work. Bridgette had me talking as Dan when she asked me to call Deb. I called Deb and identified who I was, “Deb, I wanted to call and apologize for the grief I have caused you in working with our client. I also want to thank you for seeing the project through.”
Deb asked why I was calling now. I told her, “Because it took me this long to see how offensive I had become and it wasn’t even needed.”
I would have liked to see her talk to me, I suspect she wondered if I had ulterior motives but all I heard was a co-worker simply saying. “Thanks, Dan, I expect that wasn’t easy for you, but I appreciate you calling me. I missed you at work today.”
Honestly, there was my cynical side that was thinking as usual and it wasn’t good. This evening I wasn’t finding it so pretty, but it was me.
“Do you realize Elaine that I did not have to guide your thinking or what you said?” Elaine wanted to cry, “It’s what my sister or mother might have done.” But I was getting angry inside, with Bridgette and myself. Bridgette had to tell me to take deep breaths and help me to relax. “Touch your face and feel who is there, let your hands move down stopping at your breasts as well as feeling the clothes you are wearing. …who’s with me right now?”
I told her “Elaine.”
“But it was Dan who talked to Deb, your co-worker, and all you will be doing in the weeks ahead, Dan could do. Why do you get so uptight with him or angry with Elaine for being sensitive?”
Bridgette soon left my apartment asking me to shower and get ready to go out as a family for dinner. We would be going to a neighborhood restaurant. She asked me if I liked Italian food. It is very unusual to find someone in the area who doesn’t like good Italian food.
To be continued…
