The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2958 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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“Hang on a moment, Mummy,” said Julie, “you got abused because you have four transgender daughters?”

“More or less, they assumed you were all tricked into following some hidden agenda I have to turn all the boys in Portsmouth into girls.”

“Why?

“I don’t know, they didn’t tell me.”

She laughed.

“Why did they think that, Mummy?” asked Danielle.

“Think what, sweetheart?”

“That you’d tricked us—into being girls.”

“It’s a theme that arises in lots of stories in the gender swap genre, boys especially being forced or tricked into being girls and finding they like it—except most boys wouldn’t like it, would they?”

“I did, but you didn’t trick me or force me—I still like being a girl, it’s better than being a boy.”

“Don’t listen to her, she just loves all the fetish stuff like makeup and high heeled shoes,” teased Julie.

“So what?” pouted Danielle, “And so do you.”

“Yeah so?”

“Girls, please. Today was traumatic enough without you making lots of noise.” They both apologised and went off to do something elsewhere, probably bicker—they seemed to enjoy it, or Danni did but then she was a teenage girl.

“Next time you do one of those things I’ll come with you for moral support,” offered Trish.

“Thank you, darling, but I doubt I’ll be doing another one.”

“Why not?”

“Because they seem to like criticising me.”

“Is that because they think you’re an ordinary woman?

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but it could be.”

I thought about things, I wasn’t introduced as anything other than ‘Cathy who had four transgender daughters.’ So they might well have thought I was cisgendered or whatever the term is. But surely enough of them knew about me to quash that idea? I didn’t know, not that it mattered that much to me. I just wouldn’t do anything like that again. I thought back to the one I did in Bristol for Caroline’s group when I took Julie to advise on makeup and hair. It wasn’t exactly a brilliant outcome either. Then I thought about how Caroline had been manipulated and effectively destroyed by that woman. I did wonder if I should contact her to see how things were but then she could just as easily contact me.

I decided that in her case I’d let sleeping dogs lie. Our final goodbye had been less than satisfactory and she seemed somewhat lacking in both gratitude and graciousness.

I was sitting in the kitchen drinking some tea when the phone rang and as i wasn’t expecting any calls, let Julie answer it as it was more likely to be for her than it was for me. To my surprise, she called out that it was for me but had gone before I could ask who it was.

“Hello?”

“Cathy, it’s Debbie.”

“Oh hello,” I said thinking all sorts of negatives to which I didn’t give voice.

“Look I’m sorry for the way you were treated by some of our people.”

“Fine, I accept your apology but don’t ask me to talk to them again.”

“Don’t worry, I doubt I’ll be talking to them myself.”

“Why is that?”

“Shall we say I appreciate your position a bit more than I did partly because I share some of it.”

“What happened to the political firebrand?”

“I think I realised I didn’t have much in common with most of the people who attended. I’m not criticising them for being transvestites or whatever, they’re entitled to be who they think they are but I don’t think that qualifies as female.”

I nodded vigorously even though she couldn’t see it, “I’m not going to disagree.”

“This is what you’ve been trying to tell me isn’t it, in a roundabout way?”

“Yes.”

“And why you live in stealth?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re not into support groups?”

“Not for myself, no. I never have been though I’m aware for some they are probably very useful. However, in virtually all groups you get petty politics and that becomes a pain for everyone else.”

“Well I think I’ll try and function without one from now on.”

“There’s nothing to stop you maintaining friendships with one or two of them because with them you can be totally relaxed since they know your history.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t move me on, does it?”

“Depends upon whether or not you’re ready to move on.”

“I think so. I’d rather have been with John than the bunch of cranks and crackpots half of them turned out to be.”

“Don’t let it get to you...”

“Yeah, my skin is pretty thick, but the way you were treated was shameful.”

“One or two saw me as a woman who was intent on revenging herself upon the entire male population of the United Kingdom, by changing them all into females.”

“Yes, that’s about the bottom line.”

“So they didn’t see me as transgender?”

“No and I didn’t mention it.”

“It possibly explains some of their hostility. Some of them don’t like women even though they want to be like us. I suspect it’s about the politics of envy but don’t quote me.”

“That makes much more sense than their supposed concern for the safety of your children.”

“That might have been the motive for one or two but jealousy is much more likely.”

Seeing as we were now singing from the same songsheet, I encouraged her to drop the group and get a relationship with someone who was reliable and yet a safe pair of hands.

“That’s easier said than done, Cathy. You were just incredibly lucky to get someone the first time you wore a dress.”

“Yes I know and I still thank the universe when I can reflect upon it, not that there’s much room for that these days.”

“Anyway, all the delegates who stayed in to cast nasturtiums aren’t worth bothering so they can go and hang themselves.”

“Debbie, you can’t just dump them.”

“Too late, I have and feel like a load off my shoulders. Anyway, are we sewing on Friday night?”