A New Direction

Sydney Moya

All rights reserved

©2015

Chapter 12

“A year ago I took a big step in making the life I always wanted, I became Charlene and started living as a woman, which at the time was admittedly a very scary prospect. I was scared I would look like an unconvincing drag queen, my voice wouldn’t sound right, my family and friends would reject me and I’d lose my job. One year later none of these scenarios have come true. I know I’m gorgeous and even though it sounds vain it’s a fact, ask Richie my first admirer and the man who gave me a never to be forgotten first kiss. I’ve got a nice voice; Mum and Dad still love me and have accepted that I’m their daughter. They are definitely doing all they can to accept me. They call me Charlene and use the correct pronouns all the time now and I appreciate it so much. I know how hard it’s been to watch me change but at least they didn’t shun me and we are still a family. Wills is the only one completely against my transition for no better reason than that I’m embarrassing him. How on earth I do that is only known to him since I never go to his home, the places he hangs out nor have I been seen with him by his mates since my transition as we only meet at home- my home as well and even then we don’t speak to each other, in fact I haven’t said a word to him since his outburst. I didn’t even send him a Christmas present or even wish him a happy new year.

I suppose I’m being too proud but I hate what he said to me so much that I can’t bear to speak to him let alone stay 5 minutes in the same room with him and its driving Mum crazy. I do love Wills but if he can’t accept me I can’t do anything about that except to stay out of his way and go on with my life. Anyway I hope that in a year’s time I’ll be ten times happier and that I’ll finally be ok down there-and dare I say it?-Maybe I’ll be in love with a great guy. I am what I am I don’t want praise or pity. I just want to march to the beat of my own drum!” I wrote in my journal that night.

That same month (April ’03) I received an unsettling email. There were two transphobic cartoons both very offensive as my initials were inscribed on the transgender woman. The first one showed the girl kissing a guy while sporting a woody. I was obviously the woman being referenced as ‘Charlene’ was inscribed on the girls dress.

The next one hurt me so much I can’t even describe it here. I suppose I got the email accidentally because it was a chain message with the address of the sender (which I didn’t recognise), 12 workmates and 6 other people from our building were also cc’d. That email along with the way my colleagues treated me, gossiping, staring, wearing distasteful looks finally turned me against my firm. Though I never confronted anyone as if felt it wouldn’t get me anywhere I found that I couldn’t work with all 12 people in the address list anymore if that was what they were up to behind my back. I felt they were making cruel fun of m and it poisoned my working relationship with them. I decided I wanted out.

The minute I had my surgery I would leave and afresh somewhere else in stealth and with no baggage. So even though I tried to act unconcerned people’s prejudice finally got to me and made me decide to leave and avoid interacting with the 12 as much as I could. If they had the temerity to mock me how could they have the audacity to expect me to help them? This incident left a sour feeling in my mouth though it spurred me to greater heights in my output as I now wanted to burnish my credentials by doing the best I could as it would make me more marketable and was my own way of getting back at them.

“So you’re going to resign?” Claire asked when I told her about the emails.

“Yeah, how can I work with people like this?” I replied in exasperation.

“Good point but right away?” Claire replied just as sick of this as I was.

I knew her workplace was much worse than mine. She received snide remarks left, right and centre and still ignored them. The men she worked with gave her as a hard a time as was possible without breaking the law. She got the toughest and dirtiest jobs; her cleaning cloths regularly vanished with dirty ones left in their stead. As a result she didn’t take a lunch break anymore, arrived earlier and left earlier too just so she could have less time in their company. I was always telling her to leave, she had other skills that could get her a job but she couldn’t as the money was good and she had to put herself through school

“No but when I get my surgery I’m out,” I told her.

“In October,” Claire replied.

“Yes I’m going private. I’ve been saving since I came out and I have some money I’ve been saving since I started working,” I replied.

“You’re lucky I might have to wait for at least eighteen months on the NHS,” complained Claire.

“I know,” I clucked in sympathy, “at least you will get it in the end,” I remarked trying to put a positive spin on things.

“I should be grateful for small mercies I guess,” she muttered, “like Julie,” she said smiling.

“That’s nice,” I remarked.

Claire had been getting closer to her sister and she decided I should meet her.

“Where will I meet her?” I asked after she told me.

“At my place,” replied Claire.

“Your place?” I quizzed her, “I thought you weren’t too sure about letting her know where you stay for safety reasons,” I added, worried that her parents would find out from Julie.

“She’s genuine, I trust her,” replied Claire, “besides my family knows where I work, if they wanted to do something they’d have done it. I’m not a part of their lives anymore not since they chucked me out in January,” she reasoned.

“Okay but Julie is and if I’m not mistaken they didn’t want her associating with you. Imagine if they found out and made Julie tell them where you stay,” I responded, “and before you say it I know Julie’s 18 now but she still stays there and depends on your parents,” I continued, “so let’s meet at a restaurant or something at least till she goes to varsity.” I suggested.

“Ok I suppose you’re right,” conceded Claire.

“I know I’m right, you’ll thank me later,” I said not knowing how prescient my words would turn out to be.

One week later the pair of us walked into the restaurant where Claire had arranged to meet her sister. We were both wearing nice dresses, had fixed ourselves up and were looking our best when Claire took one look at a corner table and immediately turned around and said, “Let’s get out of here,” before grabbing my hand and leading me out before I could say a thing.

“Why are we leaving, what’s happening?” I asked in concern.

“I saw my mother with Julie, how could she?” Claire angrily said as we hurried down the pavement.

“What,” I said, involuntarily looking back.

“I can’t believe her,” my friend muttered as she turned into the entrance to an Underground Station and descended down the stairs.

I was amazed she could walk so fast in her 3 inch heels.

“Claire, hold on a second,” I said hurrying after her and grabbing her wrist.

“Maybe she’s got a valid reason for bringing her,” I suggested.

“Charlene, mum’s ten times worse than your brother. She told me that if I wanted to be a woman I should get out of her house and forget about being her child, she called me all sorts of things and Julie was there. My own mother spat at my feet okay and I have no wish to see her again now or ever,” Claire told me, shaking with anger.

She turned and walked onto the platform.

“I can’t believe you brought her with you. I trusted you and now you do this,” Claire texted her sister as we sat on the train. When we got off at the next station, her phone rang. It was Julie. Claire declined the call and walked on. Her phone rang again, this time she answered it.

“What is it Julie?”

I realised I’d never seen her so upset.

“It’s not what you think Claire,” replied Julie frantically.

“Oh come of it you’re sitting with Mum at the place I was supposed to meet you, what am I supposed to think?” Claire hit back.

“That’s because she’d like to talk to you, said Julie, leaving her sister in shocked silence.

To be continued