(aka Bike) Part 1265 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad
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I found myself staring at the small picture in the programme stuck to the pages of the book. I’d seen it often enough, although not recently until the other day when Mr Whitehead gave me that file of pictures. At a glance it was obviously a girl, long hair, wearing a dress and heels–yeah, obviously. That could all have been faked, a wig, anyone can wear a dress and boys can look as delicate as girls up until puberty changes them. The problem was, I was fifteen going on sixteen, I should have had spots and croaky voice, been growing taller and obsessed with sex–but I wasn’t. Puberty had passed me by. I’m still not very tall, nor am I obsessed with sex–so a female puberty in my twenties didn’t do that much for me either–except giving a reasonable pair of boobs and an equally reasonable tush–which Simon loves.
I looked at the picture again, I was holding myself like a girl, and apart from a little bit of help in the bra, my bum did stick out from my narrow waist. Something very wrong happened with my development, and I suppose poses the questions: which caused which i.e. did the lack of testosterone make me a girl or would that have happened anyway? Wasn’t it a very fortunate coincidence as things turned out? To have felt the same as I did and been built like Simon would have had much less happy consequences. I know I should be more grateful for small blessings, but you tend to take how you are for granted.
I was about to turn over the page of the journal to see what Mr Whitehead had written about the play, when my mobile rang. I picked it up, it was home, I noticed the time on my phone–I’d been here an hour.
“Hello,” I wasn’t sure who had dialled, possibly one of the kids.
“Are ye comin’ hame, these tatties’re bilin’ tae mush, a bit like ye’re brains, lassie?”
“I love you too, Daddy. Turn the heat off under them, I’ll be home in twenty or so.”
“Aye, weel, ye tak care the noo, ye drive like a demon, sae be carefu’.”
“Och aye the noo, over and out.”
“Ye cheeky hussie,” he commented back as I switched off my phone. I quickly galloped over the rest of the house, it was nearly as big as Daddy’s and just lovely. I locked up and dashed back to the car and raced home avoiding the speed cameras.
I drove in behind Simon. “Run out of milk?”
“No, got held up,” I called behind me as I ran in.
“Not as in robbery, I hope.”
“Yeah, daylight, this bloody government.”
“Tell me about it,” he said following me through the door.
We were both overwhelmed by a surge of children, which once dealt with meant I could sort out the dinner. Nothing much happened for a while after that, until I was clearing up and Julie found the book.
“What’s this?”
“It’s private,” I called back.
“Is it?” she replied still flicking through it.
“Yes,” I emphasised by snatching it from her.
“Go on, gi’s a look?”
“No, now go and do something useful before I find enough ironing to keep you busy until bedtime.”
“Spoilsport,” she quipped as she left the kitchen.
“What’s so private?” asked Simon sipping his glass of wine.
“It’s Alexander Whitehead’s journal.”
“Who’s he, some explorer?”
“The teacher who was stabbed outside the school.”
“Oh, that Alexander Whitehead; what are you doing with it?”
“I was perusing it earlier.”
“I meant, how did you get it–did he leave it for you in his will or something?”
“Got it in one, Sherlock Holmes has nothing on this boy.” I said patting him on the shoulder. I put the book on the table.
“May I?” he asked and reached for the book when I agreed. “Neat writing.”
He read a few pages, “Who is C?” he looked up at me and I blushed. “Okay, enough of that then.” He closed the book and pushed it towards me.
“It suddenly got boring did it?” I asked feeling almost rejected.
“Cathy, I know who you are and what you are, I also know who you were. I don’t need to be reminded, I just accept you for what you are now–my gorgeous wife.” He pulled me to him and I sat on his lap and we kissed.
“Look, I know you’ve come a long way and overcome many challenges to be you, but I don’t need to know anymore than I do. I love you as you are. Why transgendered people seem to be so obsessed with themselves I don’t know. I mean you don’t get ordinary women writing about what it feels like to be a woman, do you?”
I felt about two inches tall, “I’m sorry, it seems to be part of the problem–we’re probably all neurotic obsessives.”
“But you’re a beautiful woman now, with a family and a career. What more d’you want?”
“I don’t think it’s so much about want–I can’t help it–it’s like a built in self-destruct button. No matter how good I get, I’ll never feel complete or real. I can never be real, can I?”
“What do I need to do to prove to yourself that you are? Get some whacko surgeon in the states to implant a womb and ovaries in you, just so you can have a period?”
“No,” I sobbed, “I’m sorry–I’ll never be good enough for you.” I cried on his shoulder.
“Good enough for me? Jeezus, Cathy, compared to me you’re positively angelic. It’s me who isn’t good enough for you.”
“I love you, Simon Cameron.” I kissed him on the forehead and ran off to my room and threw myself on the bed. I must have cried myself to sleep because the next thing I knew it was dark. I glanced at the clock, it was after midnight. I cleaned my teeth and washed my face then went to bed. Simon hadn’t come to bed, so perhaps he was feeling disgusted with me.
Perhaps we are all obsessed with ourselves as he said, but what do I do about it, I have no idea. It’s not as if I don’t lead a full life with plenty of contact with other people, because I do. Maybe I should see Dr Thomas.
I slipped off to sleep again and was sleepily aware that Simon came to bed about an hour after me. He seems to be able to skip sleep, if I do, I’m a wreck. “Love you,” I muttered as he got into bed.
He leant over and kissed me on the back of my neck sending little buzzes down my spine. “I love you too, Babes.”
“Where have you been?” I grumbled quietly.
“Reading that book you brought home.”
“I thought you weren’t going to.”
“I wasn’t–but I needed to know what was in it that upset you.”
“You read it for that?”
“Yeah, because I care about you. Okay, so I’m a bloke and I don’t do emotion very well, in fact I’m probably an emotional illiterate like most men, but I’m not totally illiterate, so I read it. It was very interesting.”
I rolled over to face him, “So now you know more about me than I do?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I certainly know more about Alexander Whitehead and his obsession with a beautiful boy-girl. It’s like Death in Venice and the poor old sod ends up dying too.”
“I don’t remember your reading Thomas Mann.”
“I didn’t, I saw the film, same as everyone else–you know, the one ‘abaht the old poof what expires in Venice.’” I didn’t think his Monty Python allusion was quite appropriate but I said nothing.
“Where’s the book?”
“In your computer bag.”
“Thanks, I need to sleep now.” I kissed him and rolled over to try and sleep and felt silent tears slipping from my eyes.
Comments
Looking back in pain.
Now that I can relate to.
Having Prejudged old Whitehead, Cathy now gets a double wammy, guilt and pain.
There's hurt enough in most transgendered lives without looking for more by kicking over the traces. Sadly, nearly everyone of us finds they have to do it.
Better chapter Angi.
Still lovin' it
Love and hugs.
OXOXOX
Beverly.
Growing old disgracefully.
But many of us do it
a built in self-destruct button
My neighbour's husband died suddenly 4 months ago. She credits me with stopping her going mad, but I still have massive feelings of failure. We're good at buying guilt; we add it to that which family and society often insists that we should have because we dared to be our real selves, not something with which 'they' are comfortable.
Very well observed as usual, Ang. "You keep writing; I'll keep reading."
S.
And it doesn't have to be about trans issues...
My father died 2 weeks ago. He was suffering from cancer for the last year so we knew it was coming, but it was still hard. Already, I'm beating myself up for not going over to spend more time with him over the last year than I did. I had all sorts of reasons, but the time I missed....
We are always so hard on ourselves...
Janice
Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1265
Simon keeps on surprising me with the way that he shows just how good of a bloke he is.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Simon has shown uncommon
sensitivity. Maybe he now gets some credit in the "bank" for his next few errors.
Loved the lines: “Cathy, I know who you are and what you are, I also know who you were. I don’t need to be reminded, I just accept you for what you are now—my gorgeous wife.†He pulled me to him and I sat on his lap and we kissed."
If Cathy could only accept that too and laugh at the people who still try to give her a hard time. It's THEIR problem, not hers.
I'd like to see...
...Cathy take her own advice, for once:
Despite everything, she still reacts negatively to praise and compliments. I think she'd benefit immeasurably from the assistance she could receive from Dr Ann, or even Dr Stephanie. I guess there's a tendency for individuals to assume that when the physical side of transitioning is complete, that's the end of the matter.
But as Cathy, and through her writing, Angharad so ably demonstrates, the emotional side is just as important, if frequently neglected.
Thanks A+B+I (mushy spuds): each Bikesode provides a good deal of food for thought, and this was no exception.
Psychological Support
Bike Resources
Bike Resources
Does anyone else find it strange...
...that Cathy hasn't told Simon about the extent of her inheritance, despite having several opportunities to do so?
Partner Secrets
Bike Resources
Bike Resources
Perhaps
she felt other things were more important? She clearly isn't into money, maybe her emotional life is more important and she's trying to stabilise that first.
Angharad
Angharad
That occurred to me...
But, she started "hiding" inheritances with an earlier one - so as to not upset Stella... I suspect it's "second nature" now... (Wonder how many more she'll end up with - and what she'll do with them.)
Money isn't important? I'd not go so far as saying she doesn't care about it, as you've shown she does in several ways. More, it's like a responsibility thing. She experienced a time where money WAS hard to come by. (Grad Students are not known for being rich - at least not over here...) She's talked about Simon's money and her money a time or two as well...
Given where she is financially, she can certainly afford to get her emotional boat in order before dealing with all of it.
Fascinating story you've sucked us into.
Thanks,
Anne
A Self destructive bent that needs to be healed.
Living with the two young women that I do, any expression of self loathing is dealth with imediately and with strong emphasis. There comes a time when self loathing is extremely tiresome to those around us who strongly support us. Cathy has come a long way, and it seems reasonable that encountering the diary and the old Man sort of knocked her off center. Hopefully when she comes out of her funk, she'll be even more loving, sure of herself and grateful.
Much peace
Khadijah
One might think...
One might think you were talking from experience when you had Cathy say "...we’re probably all neurotic obsessives." Perhaps not, but there are times I know that applies to me. I fight it, as it makes me feel so selfish and useless.
That said - there are times when it's really nice to talk to another transgendered person... They UNDERSTAND without you saying. They "get" the insecurities. When talking with a "normal", it's like most really do NOT want to hear it.
Thanks for these segments. They've spoken to me in ways I didn't expect.
Thanks,
Anne
a transition question in the comments
Someone made the comment about WHY we couldnt let our past go, and live in present once we were post-op & beyond. Well the simple answer is too many things from the past keep coming in to our present and biting us on the ass. I'm lucky like Cathy in my mostly femme form. I technically was born AIS or Intersexed, and I was around 29 when I discovered these facts. Even then my relatives claimed different. I At the time didnt have much to go on outside some DRs comments nor really much do to about it at time. I was still pretty naive about the whole thing and my job was such with high security clearances, I figured to let sleeping dogs lie.
It wasnt till the mid 90's and me buying what I call my 1st real computer with WIN95 and getting on the internet and hitting misc chat rooms I discovered not only people simular to me, but things that were with in reason to think maybe there was something I could do for myself that I'd known since childhood. Still it wasnt till around 2002-2003 that I seriously took aim about doing anything.
what most people dont seem to understand is that ts transition is like just being gay and coming out to a few people and going on about trying to live a normal life (what ever that is). Transitioning requires one to do alot of things, more or less in order and just the simple act of changing wardrobes and trying to follow societies rules of whom should do this or that, was enuff to be a real pain at times, and there wasnt much we can do to hide from these facts, The more passable you were did have impact & I was quite aware I had it much easier blending in, but I had just as hard time in adjusting my mannerisms I had used for 40 plus years to that of other gender. In other words every time I screwed up someone knew it. Those that didnt look as pretty or face it just didnt look female to start out with, im sure had it worse.
Now even 7,8,9 years post op, I'll do something via a gesture and have someone see it and sometimes make a comment. Then there's all the folks i've known a good part of my life or lengthy periods. There's almost daily someone in my past that comes along and just in even simple friendly gesture of saying you're much better off now, as Jan, than Jack, you look so much more happy. IS A SIMPLE reminder that whom I was is still there. I know many that dont mean any harm, but it's still just another reminder I really dont will to be reminded of even if it's true.
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For cathy in storyline, from the start of Stella's nudge,push,being dragged into fulltime, she's had no real down time, constinately being reminded of her past, and stress upon stress placed on her. For most part, she dealt with this amazingly well. In some cases I believe some like Stella's hard core pushing was a bit overdone & I dont believe for a moment Stella knew how much this was stressfull, but I do believe STella did understand that being Simone's GF and then wife and marrying in to that family , that Cathy needed tuff'ning up. I believe she knew that Cathy was never gonna hide her past, and therefore would just have to take it when media found out. Their family in general tho did what it could to lessen what it could, but, it stood firm generally when it could to lesson that impact. but what it couldnt do was INJect Cathy with self esteem on her looks, because all Cathy's life, she'd been drilled that personal self worth was a bad thing.
You can often see this in girls/women that for whatever reason, are suddenly put in spotlight with popularity and claimed beautiful, and the girl cringing and not really believing any of it, prob, cause most of her life she may not been in the ""IN""CROWD"" and now everyone wants to be like her. They just dont deal with it. cathy so far has shown signs of acceptance, but what she really hasnt had since meating Stella that fateful afternoon, is time to sit down & reflect what has happened to her and resolve it in her head. It's been jump from one fire to another, then on to the next. I'm always surprized just how well she's managed.
ANYRATES - ANGHARAD - you manage to keep us enthralled with the storyline, how on earth you manage to keep doing it on a daily basis & keeping the quality of it so high is beyond my understanding. I know other authors that manage to keep writing a contining series, but not daily. there's a few that just have knack to writing themes and charactors EVEN IF OTHERS have written on simular themes that their stories just seem to pop out at the reader & make us want to take part in some wierd way that take our emotions and make us care that much more deeply.
Nice thing about a reading format like this is you can see it in how we respond in comments sections on just how it hit us in emotions and our love for storyline and or charactors. and to just how closely we are to certain events that we hold dear or maybe dread at times. but we pour our hearts out at times, because these events, charactors, and storyline hit that close to our hearts.
Thank you for such a long and emotional roller coaster we've all come to love very dearly.
Simon love is very deep,
He really didn't want to know what was in the journal, but for Cathy's sake he felt he had to. So he did.
Still waters run deep, et tu Simon ?
Simon 's becoming SENSITIVE ! It always scares me when it happens to me too.
It's like Andrew Dice Clay is going to knock on my door at 1 AM, and take me to Insensitivity School to be de-programmed.
Cefin