---

Image Credit: Picture from PublicDomainPictures.net. Free for commercial and personal use with restriction. Girl in Red.

---

 
Chapter 16 Persuading Mum that she has another daughter
 

I left my mobile turned off throughout the weekend in case Mum should change her mind and decide to ring me; instead I used the landline for outgoing calls and let Carol answer any incoming ones. I rang the club to cancel the arrangement I’d made for me to swap shifts on Sunday, and then telephoned Lucy to bring her up to date with events at home.

‘So what has been your Mother’s reaction?’

‘I haven’t spoken to her yet, but Carol has, and says she was not very impressed by the news. However, she has at least agreed to come up to London and meet me to talk about it on Wednesday afternoon.’

‘Will she be seeing you as Becky or Nick?’

‘Becky; of course,’ I replied decisively. ‘She tried to insist on seeing me as Nick, but Carol told her that she must face me as Becky, but I’m not exactly looking forward to it.’

‘Would you like me to be there with you when she comes?’

‘No Lucy, that’s very kind of you, but you have lectures to go to and your presence might even make things worse. I’ll have to face her by myself, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you for a coffee on Wednesday morning, if you can be free between lectures, just to boost my confidence and check that I look alright.’

‘Would you be able to come in to Central London at about 11.00 am?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘In that case I could meet you at the Students’ Union.’

I was quite pleased to be working for the next four evenings as it saved me from worrying too much about my forthcoming interview with my mother. During this time I asked Susie, my colleague who was in process of transitioning, whether we might have a chat together as I wanted to learn more about the implications of taking hormones and of undergoing a full transition and acquiring official recognition in my new gender.

'I was wondering how long it would take you to decide,' she replied.

'Is it that obvious?' I asked.

'Yes, I'm afraid so.'

'I would like to begin the process as soon as I have spoken to my Mum on Wednesday.

'In that case why don't we meet up for an hour before work next Friday.'

However as Wednesday approached I began to find myself laying awake in bed, thinking what I was going to say to Mum when we met and trying to anticipate and answer all the objections she might have to my current life-style. In fact I only managed to sleep for a couple of hours after I came home on Wednesday morning before my alarm woke me to get up and go and see Lucy, by this time Carol had left for work. I was too nervous to face eating any breakfast, but thought I might just manage to keep down a cup of tea. I went in to the kitchen and found that Carol had left a pink envelope addressed to me. I opened it to find a good luck card endorsed:

Becky — I think you should live as you want to, and do whatever feels right for you. Whatever Mum might say, I want you to know that I've been happy and proud to have you living with me as a sister, love from Carol xxx.

Several tears ran down my cheek and I was glad that I had found the card before I put on any eye makeup.

I’d planned what to wear the night before: a dark blue tailored suit with medium length skirt together with matching shoes and a light blue blouse. I also now possessed a nice pair of lapis lazuli earrings and a matching pendant which would go well together. I’d also changed my nail varnish to a more conservative looking dark red. I knew that if Carol or Lucy were to be wearing this outfit Mum would consider it to be ‘smart’. These days I was usually quite skilled at putting on my makeup in the morning but on this occasion I was feeling so nervous that I barely managed to do my lips put a little mascara on to my eyelashes and brush my hair into a respectable style before I had to leave.

‘Becky, you do look nice in that outfit, quite the young businesswoman,’ said Lucy when I met her. ‘You put me to shame these days.’

‘You are appropriately dressed as a student, my outfit is intended to please my mother.’

‘I hope it will do so. How are you feeling?’

‘Awful, I was so nervous that I was unable to put on my eye makeup this morning, my hand kept shaking.’

‘So I see. I have forty minutes before my next lecture, shall we go to the ladies and I’ll fix them for you?’

‘Yes please, if you would, but Carol has suggested that I tone things down just a bit today.’

Chatting to Lucy, whilst she fixed my makeup for me, together with her final reassurance that I looked fine was just what I needed to boost my confidence and help me pass the time before Mum’s arrival, which would otherwise have been spent at home worrying. I eventually arrived back at Carol’s flat half an hour before the appointed meeting with my mother, knowing that she sometimes arrived earlier than arranged. I would need the time to calm and compose myself before seeing her. I went to the kitchen and prepared some tea cups and a plate of biscuits which I’d brought with me. I heated the kettle, before sitting down to wait for her whilst going through in my mind how I was going to deal with the inevitable accusations and answer all her questions.

The intercom buzzed suddenly. I picked up the receiver.

‘Hello?’

‘Is that you Nicholas?’

I was tempted to say no, that it was Becky, but I didn’t want to get into a row straightaway with Mum if I could avoid it so I deliberately didn’t answer her question.

‘Do you know your way up to the flat, Mum?’ I replied in as calm a voice as I could manage.

‘Yes of course I do,’ she responded brusquely.

‘Come in then, I’ll put the kettle on,’ I said.

I pressed the button to let her in the front door of the block and propped open the front door of Carol’s flat whilst I went in to the kitchen to make the tea, knowing that this was what she always did at the arrival of any visitor. Two minutes later I heard her footsteps in the corridor followed by a knock at the open door.

‘Come in Mum,’ I called from the kitchen. ‘Sit down. I’ll be with you in a few seconds.’

I emerged carrying a tray containing the tea, and heard my mother draw in breath in surprise.

‘Hello Mum, it’s nice to see you,’ I said quietly, trying my best to look calm and sound nonchalant.

I didn’t risk kissing her on the cheek, as I normally would have done, but rather busied myself putting the tea tray down on a table, setting out the cups and pouring out two cups of tea, all the time frightened that my hands would start shaking.

She didn’t say anything until I handed her a cup and smiled.

‘Was your journey alright?’ I enquired.

She ignored my question.

‘Did you have to go to so much trouble to look like a girl?’ she asked sharply.

I blushed, but quickly regained my composure.

‘Yes, I did. It was important to me to look my best when we met for the first time,’ I said trying to sound sure of myself. ‘I wanted to demonstrate to you that I could look nice dressed as Becky and not just like a man in drag.’

She relented a little, seeing how nervous I was.

‘Those photos you sent had already shown me that,’ she said.

‘Yes but photos can easily be faked, I wanted to prove to you that I could successfully pass for a woman in broad daylight’

‘So I see,’ she said coolly. ‘Well there is no doubt of that, but what have you done to your voice?’

‘Nothing very much! You know I’ve always had a high pitched voice. I’ve been doing one or two exercises that they showed me at work to make myself sound a little more like a woman. At first I had to make a conscious effort to do so, but now it seems to come naturally to me’.

This reply didn’t seem to please her.

‘But why do you need to dress as a woman in the first place?’

I shrugged.

‘I tried to explain that to you in my letter. I suppose I might have pretended that it all began with my new job, but actually I’ve always felt this way for as long as I can remember. I just feel happier and more relaxed when I’m dressed liked this.’

‘You don’t seem particularly relaxed at the moment.’

‘No, but that’s only because you are on edge rather than me. If Carol or Lucy were here now instead of you then I’d be far more confident and relaxed.’

She took the hint and eased up a little.

‘Alright then, but please explain to me in what ways are you happier?’

I sighed.

‘I have more confidence in myself; I have more friends, a better job, and have earned more money over these last few weeks that I’ve been living as Becky than I ever did or ever was likely to do as Nick. When I wake up as Becky I feel happier and more ready to face the world. I enjoy choosing what clothes to put on and experimenting with my looks and makeup. I enjoy looking after my hair and the way it feels when I move. I also feel good when I receive admiring glances in the street, or small compliments from strangers. Nothing like that ever happened to me as Nick. I suppose you could sum it all up by saying that I enjoy being a girl.’

Once again, my answer didn’t appear to please her, but it was too late for me ever to back down.

‘But, Nicholas, you are not a girl, you are a young man. Where will it lead to if you start dressing and acting as a woman all the time?’ she asked.

Her continued reference to me as Nicholas annoyed me and made me even more determined. I shrugged my shoulders.

‘I’ve no idea at present. I’m just finding my way and following up any opportunities that are offered.’

‘What sort of opportunities?’

This conversation was going nowhere, it was time for me to get a grip.

‘For heaven’s sake Mum, let us have this cup of tea together in a civilized manner and then I’ll tell you everything and answer all your questions,’ I said.

She sighed, but appeared to be partially reconciled, at least to hearing me out.

Over the next hour and a half I carefully went through the entire story once again, repeating several of the things that I’d put in my letter, but this time I was able to answer all her questions as they occurred to her and offer her re-assurance that I had not gone mad and was not ruining my life. Her initial aggressive tone gradually softened and I realised that she was no longer as hostile and unsympathetic as she had been at first; she just wanted to know more detail about my new life. I didn’t disguise from her that I was enjoying the work, or that I enjoyed spending time as Becky at home, especially now that I’d plenty of clothes to wear. But this was only part of the story. I'd gained a level of self-confidence and self-respect that I'd not known before. I even invited her to come into my bedroom and showed her the extent of my new wardrobe. After a while the conversation seemed to be going a little better, so I decided to tell her about the extension of my contract and the offer of a place in the cabaret chorus in the spring.

We didn’t get into a discussion of my sexuality and so I saw no need to refer to it. I assumed she would have already discussed that issue with Carol and been re-assured that I was not having a relationship with a man.

‘But is it really necessary for you to live as a girl, full-time?’

‘No, strictly speaking it isn’t necessary, there are those among my colleagues who live as men and only change for work, but I am not one of them. I’m not doing this just to earn money or attract men; I’m spending my time as Becky because I feel that is who I really am.’

‘But why has this happened to you? Was it because you were raised by a single parent?’

I smiled, knowing that this would be one of her worries.

‘I really don’t think so; I felt the way I do before Dad left home.’

‘So what did we do wrong to make you like this?

‘You did nothing wrong, and there is nothing you could have done to change my nature,’ I said, and then gently added, ‘just as there is nothing you can do now.’

She sighed and became thoughtful.

‘I always half suspected there might be something like this. I remember thinking so once when you were a little boy, and you were watching Carol getting ready to go to a school dance,’ she said sadly.

‘I remember that occasion.’ I said quietly. ‘Mum, why didn’t you say something to me then? I would have told you how I felt.’

‘I suppose I was waiting for you to say something about it to me, but you never did so and I assumed that it was just a passing phase.’

I felt quite indignant that both my mother and my sister had noticed and yet neither of them had said anything.

‘I’ve wasted fifteen years of my life, living a lie. I don’t intend to do so any longer,’ I replied angrily.

Mum looked really hurt when I said that, and I felt sorry for her so I took her hand. She looked down at my manicured and polished finger nails, took a deep breath and then gave her considered opinion.

‘Well Nicholas, it is your life, I cannot tell you how to live it; I suppose you must do whatever brings you happiness.’

‘I know that Mum, but I hope I will also have your approval and support for what I’ve chosen to do.’

‘Of course, I will support and be proud you,’ she said, ‘as long as you are always honest with me. You are my so…, my child after all.’

I gave her a hug and kissed her cheek.

‘Thanks Mum, I was hoping you’d say something like that’.

She now looked a little more pleased.

‘Now that we’ve got that sorted, I suppose that I’d better tell you that you look lovely dressed as you are,’ she said.

‘Thank you, Mum, but there is just one other thing, please would you stop calling me Nicholas and start referring to me as Becky from now onwards.’

‘Alright then Becky, I think I can agree to that, but when will I be seeing my son Nicholas again? I love him just as much.’

I hesitated, wondering whether to avoid facing her with the truth, but I had just promised always to be honest with her.

‘I don’t know Mum. Nicholas and his past are locked in that trunk over there and I no longer have a key. The way I feel at the moment is that you won’t be seeing him again.’

She sighed.

‘In that case I’d better get used to having a second daughter.’

There was a tear in her eye, so I stood up and took her in my arms to give her a hug.

‘Mum, I do so hope you can be proud of me as your daughter.’

‘Of course I will.’

I could identify with her sadness — to be told by your child that her life to that point had been wasted cannot have been easy. I decided that I should try and lighten the conversation a little.

‘One thing, since I’ve been living as Becky it has brought me much closer to Carol who says she likes having a younger sister.’

I showed her Carol’s greetings card. Mum gave a sad smile as she read it.

‘In that case you had better both come down and stay with me over the Christmas holiday.’

‘I thought that you were worried about what the neighbours might think’ I said.

‘I wanted to see you and talk to you before I made up my mind, but as far as I’m concerned you may wear whatever you wish when you come to stay at my house. The neighbours can think whatever they like.’

‘Will you be telling Aunt Jill and Uncle Derek?’

(Aunt Jill was Mum’s younger sister and Lucy’s mother. She lived with Uncle Derek and their sixteen year old son in the neighbouring village of Oakley.)

‘Since their daughter already knows and appears to have played a significant role in your becoming a young woman, it would seem pointless trying to keep the information from them.’

I smiled.

‘I think you’re right; as far as I’m concerned the more people that now know about Becky the better.’