Easy For Some!
by: Angharad (Bonzi fell asleep proofing it!)
part:354

Monday! Why does it always have to be Monday? Okay, so you didn’t recognise my Indiana Jones adaptation, don’t worry, just go and lie down.

I showered and dried my hair, then I put on my cycling clothes–somehow, I think I might have got things a bit back to front, most people shower after a bike ride. Never mind, it was close.

A light breakfast ingested, I spent a few moments persuading Tom to take some of my stuff in his Land Rover, then I set off for the university. The March traffic was hardly moving as I wove in and out of it. I was at the university and changed into some tidy threads before Tom got there. Maybe I should try to get him out on a bike? Yeah, and pigs will fly, and I don’t mean in the copper chopper!

“Are you sure you rode all the way in?” said Tom, eyeing me suspiciously.

“My bike is in the office if you’d care to inspect it,” I replied.

“Hmm, you look too tidy for a keen cyclist.”

He was referring to the fact that I had changed my clothes, combed my hair, and popped on some makeup and perfume. I had also quickly wiped down my sweaty little body before changing.

“I need some help with the survey stuff, so if you can spare an hour?”

“I thought I was a bad scientist?”

“You are, I need someone to lick the stamps and the envelopes,” he smiled broadly at his own joke and disappeared into his office.

“You know,” I said to Pippa, who was standing and watching the interaction, “he’s just signed his own diet warrant!” I waited for the effect of my joke to happen–it took a moment before she sniggered, and I walked away as briskly as my heels would allow.

I could almost hear my mother’s voice saying, “I don’t know how you can walk in those shoes!” and my reply, about it being easy. It wasn’t, it had taken some practice, but the boots Stella had given me, certainly helped in the early days.

I thought back to my life before Stella burst into it, and it felt almost monochrome compared to the Technicolor version now. I had been such a shy retiring sort, avoiding social contact in case someone sussed me out, or should I say, sussed the female inside me, out. Now I suppose, any fear I have is that they’ll know about my previous male life, such as it was. A total turn around, paradoxical or what?

I got back to the broom cupboard that served as my office and waiting outside, was one of my students.

“Hello Keith, what can I do for you? We don’t have a tutorial do we?”

“No, Lady C. I wondered if I could have a word, in private.”

“Yes of course.” As I unlocked my office, I wondered what he wanted to talk about, was it his problem or mine? Because you never can tell, when they say, ‘in private’.

He followed me in and I offered him a seat. I then closed the door and took my own seat after closing down my computer.

“How can I help?” I asked after giving him a moment to cast his eye over my shelves of textbooks, journals and bits of various animals, usually skeletal but not always; oh, and several soft toys given to me by various students, including the world’s largest dormouse!

“I’m not sure if you can,” he was struggling with his thoughts and I gave him space to straighten them enough to articulate them.

“Okay, take your time.” I reassured him, leaning back to give him physical space.

He ummed and ahhed several times before he came out with it. “I think I want to be a woman.”

He was blushing and sweating profusely. This was my nightmare come home to roost. I knew what I wanted to do, once Stella told me what I wanted. How on earth could I tell someone else how to do it?

I regarded the young man in front of me, he was about a hundred and seventy odd centimetres tall, medium sort of build with, unfortunately, a rather masculine face and dark beard shadow.

“I see, so what would you like me to do?” I didn’t want to be drawn into someone else’s struggle, I had enough demons of my own to deal with.

“They say, you know all about it.” He blushed again.

“Who are they?” I asked, feeling rather warm myself.

“Other students,” he looked away after saying it.

Was this a wind up, or was he genuine? I had moved on from my outting and didn’t really want to discuss it any more, and not with one of my students. “I’m a biologist, Keith, not a psychologist. There are people in the student counselling team who are better qualified to deal with this, than I am. Have you spoken to them?”
He looked at the floor. “No. I remember back last year when you went on telly with your husband and told everyone you used to be a boy.”

“I see. I’m afraid that doesn’t make me an expert. All I know is how I felt about things. I got lucky with the support I had.”

“I’ve been cross-dressing for several years. I told my girlfriend about it and once she got over the shock, she agreed to help me.”

“That’s good, she’ll be a great help, probably more than I can, other than to offer my support if you decide to tell the university. They already have an equality and diversity policy, so they can and will support you, if it’s what you want to do.”

He nodded and blushed some more.

“Have you spoken to anyone else, besides your girlfriend and me?”

“Like, who?”

“Like your doctor? There are also support groups who may be able to quote you chapter and verse on the law and where to get help.”

“No, I haven’t spoken to anyone else.”

“Do you know what you want to do?”

“I want to be like you, and other women.”

Oh dear, I thought, the last thing I need is to become a role model. “What sort of research have you done?”

He took a folder containing hundreds of sheets of paper from his bag. “I’ve been on the internet, and I also read loads of stories by TG authors.”

“Real life and fiction are a bit different, Keith, although I’m sure you know that.” Oh poo, now I was patronising him! “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, but I expect you understand what I mean.”

“Yeah, when I was still in school, I spent months trying to find a witch to annoy to get her to turn me into a girl.” He laughed, no, he giggled. So did I.

“If you’re still trying that, I’m not into spells and magic, sorry and all that.” I smiled back at him.

“No, I know or half the first year would be toads by now.”

“Not necessarily, we don’t get fees from toads.”

“No, I suppose not.”
“Have you told your parents?”

“God no, they’ll be the last ones I tell.”

“Oh, that’s a shame, their help could be very useful.”

“No way! They’ll disown me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What should I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Become a woman.”

“You need to get some expert help, go and see either the student counselling people or your own doctor. Get them to refer you to a psychiatrist with some experience in gender disorders, there’s at least one in the area.”

“Thanks, do you want to see some photos?”

I didn’t particularly, but felt I needed to do so out of solidarity. He handed them to me, they were dreadful.

“What d’you think?”

“Erm, I’m no expert, Keith.”

“You don’t like them, do you?”

“I think a miniskirt and thigh boots would be a bit much for one of my lectures.” I tried to be helpful rather than destructive, “I’d have thought, something a little more subtle, would be better. It draws less attention to you, if you catch my drift.”

“But you wear boots, I’ve seen them?”

“They are knee boots, and I was wearing a longer skirt.”

“But my legs are my best feature,” he complained,” see!” he pulled up his trouser leg.

“I’m sure they are, but it’s about blending in, not standing out; unless you want to be the centre of attention, in which case, I really can’t help.”

“So what do I do?”

I glanced at my watch, “I’ve told you once, go and see student counselling or your own doctor.”

“How soon can they do the surgery?”

“What surgery?”

“The op, you know, the sex change?”

“If you’ve done your research you should know that.”

“Yeah, but like, how long?”

“A minimum of one year from the transition, after you’ve passed the real life test. It’s sometimes longer than that.” Sometimes not at all, I wanted to say. “Look, I have a class to teach, so I’m afraid I have to go.”

“Oh, alright.” He picked up his bag and stuffed his papers back in them and left without any further word.

I sat there for a minute feeling as if all the sediment which had decanted itself over the past couple of years, had been disturbed. It was not an enjoyable sensation–anything but.