I break down crying again. Angela helps me over to the bed, and I collapse onto it. I hug my knees to my chest and just lie there on my side. There is nothing I want less than to think about…him. My life has become a lie. I've become everything that he told me I was, everything that he wanted to make me believe.

Here I am in a body that for the first time really fits me and all I can think about is how much I hate myself for wanting it.

Even if I can’t talk to Angela about this, at least I think about it. I know I need to get it out, but I can’t find the words. They stick in my throat, and the obstruction almost feels physical. Again and again I open my mouth. No sound escapes but my strangled sobs.

Every time he touched me I scrubbed myself raw trying to get the feel of him off, but even now, I can feel him.

I hear someone enter the room, and finally find a voice to say something, anything. “Mom?”

“No, I’m not your mom, but I hope it’s okay that Angela called me.”

“Dr. Waters?”

“I gave her my contact information while we were at the hospital. So, apparently there’s something on your mind that you need to tell me?”

I begin to shake my head no, when she puts her hand to my head to steady it. She quickly has the information downloaded and begins to look it over. That’s fine with me because I really don’t feel like talking. I can push him down again. It’s the only revenge I feel strong enough to take. I hate him more for making me feel helpless than for what he did to me…although making me feel helpless was a major part of what he did.

“So, I see you’re experiencing a severe stress reaction to something, and as this seems to be something in your past. I’m going to go out on a limb and say PTSD.”

“Come on, doctor. You and I both know that the information is pretty much screaming that at you. I know that I’m traumatized.”

“Well, if you’re so self-aware, then why don’t you complete my diagnosis for me? Tell me what happened.”

I almost begin talking right here. For a moment, before I opened my mouth, I felt so comfortable. So loved, and then my mind turns to him and it all slips away again.

“No one can love me,” I mutter. “I’m just a slutty girl. Worse than that, I’m a boy who wants to demean myself.”

“So, it’s demeaning to be a girl?”

“A boy wanting to be a girl is about sex. I must be a homosexual, but afraid of the idea of being homosexual. Or I’m so self-deluded and screwed up that I’m mistaking my normal sexual attraction of women for wanting to be a woman. No man really wants this for himself.” I gesture at my beautiful body and begin to cry again.

Oh, how I want this. I want it so badly that it aches even now. I’ve had a period so I’m probably fertile. I want to be a mother. I want to be a wife. Not in a 50’s sense of loss of identity to the man, but in an equal partnership.

I feel this so strongly that I don’t even realize I’m speaking aloud when I say, “I want to be Steve’s wife.”

“Oh?” Dr. Waters says with a little smile.

Even in the midst of my fear I smile and blush. How can tears turn from pain to joy without ever stopping? And then go back again.”

“Sexual attraction is normal and healthy, Liadan.”

“But I’m a boy!” I try to yell. Again my voice goes all strangled and weak. I let out a wordless cry. I want to be able to scream and yell occasionally, but nature has other ideas apparently.

Dr. Waters laughs softly at that, and I can’t help it, I laugh a little as well.

“Stop that!” I say, trying to be severe, but unable to get it at all. I can’t help it, I break down laughing.

“Now, want to tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Liadan, I can’t do anything unless you help me. I never even knew there was this depth of pain in you. If you want my honest opinion, then you have to share your life with me. It is a good possibility that this is why you couldn’t transition before, especially if your dad…”

I looked at her in horror. “How could you even think that?”

“I don’t know what to think. Most abuse of children happens…”

“I was fifteen, hardly a child.”

“And hardly an adult.”

“He wasn’t an adult either. He was eighteen.”

“According to some definitions, that makes him an adult.”

“I didn’t see him that way. I thought he was cute, and I was so confused by it. In high school I stuck to myself because I really didn’t get people.”

“What about Steve?”

“What? No. Steve and I met in college. He was my roommate in the abortive attempt I made to live at the school dorms.”

“Abortive? You never told me this one.”

I begin to blush hotly and avert my gaze.

“I was so turned on by him changing that it made me uncomfortable. Both of us, really. It was hard not to look at him, and so I found other accommodations.”

“But you two stayed in touch?”

“His parents were paying for his schooling. He helped me to get a private room in off-campus housing.”

“And I can’t believe that you got me off subject so easily.”

“Sorry. I just…hate talking about him.”

“What was his name?”

I open my mouth to speak, and realize that in the past twenty-two years I may not have forgotten him, but absolute refusal to remember his name had worked. I would not dignify him in my memory with a name, and so now he didn’t have one, but this embarrasses me for some reason.

“I can’t remember,” I say, avoiding her gaze.

“Why not?”

“He took my power, my self-image, and he destroyed it, so I didn’t want to dignify him with a name.”

She looks at me a little shocked and I blush.

“Sorry, I should probably remember.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m amazed that you were able to take even that much power out of this. You are scarred and disfigured by this encounter, maybe even more than if he’d physically marred you. No one ever saw the scars because you covered them all up, and showed the world an apparently smooth emotional complexion.”

“Apparently I’ve been wearing makeup for over twenty years and never knew it,” I say with a smirk.

“And an expert job you did, too. It’s my job to notice the cover-up, and I saw nary a crack in your soul.”

“A little poetic don’t you think, doctor?”

“Maybe, but not overly so. So, this older boy…”

“He was the first one who made me feel…alive. His smile made me want to dance…or to sing. I wasn’t really good at either one, but I would have tried it for him. I would have done anything for him to actually smile at me.”

“What happened?”

“I dressed as a girl…”

“What!” Her eyes were wide, and she was half rising to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the end of the bed.

“For Halloween. Let a girl finish why don’t you.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought that maybe you’d dressed…”

I blushed again and averted my gaze.

“You little minx. Of course you dressed up in women’s clothing. Your sister’s I assume?”

“And some of it almost fit. I hadn’t really bulked out across the chest yet. I think it was swimming in my junior and senior year that helped that to happen.”

“Wait…you’re telling me that you were raped…”

“You can’t rape the willing,” I say almost bitterly.

“Did you want to have sex with him?”

“No, but…”

“Then it was rape.”

“But…”

“No, buts. If you didn’t want it, then you didn’t want it. Your body may have responded, but that’s what your body does. It’s called an autonomic response for a reason.

“Your body will even respond if you’re asleep, but you can’t want it then. You’re not even consciously aware of what’s going on.”

“But…I…”

“Ejaculated?”

I nod, unable to even look at her. I feel dirtier now that I’ve admitted it than he ever made me. It felt so…good, but at the same time I didn’t want it to feel good. I hate myself for how much I wanted that, how much I needed that, and yet never wanted or needed it at all.

“I’m just a little whore.”

“No, you’re not.”

“But…I want to let Steve screw my brains out.”

“And?”

“What and? I’m not supposed to want that.”

“He’s a boy, you’re a girl. I shouldn’t need to explain the mechanics to you.”

“But I’m not really a…”

“Could have fooled me. I’ve seen you naked, remember?”

I shake my head, not wanting to believe what she’s saying. I can’t believe what she’s saying.

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times did he rape you?”

“One. After that, part of me wanted…”

“How many times did you have sex where you were not a willing participant?”

“I don’t know. It went on for five or six months before he was killed.”

“You didn’t…”

“No…but I wish I did. Apparently one of the girls he raped got pregnant. Her dad found out and took a baseball bat to him.”

“How young was the other girl?”

“Twelve.”

“Sorry…tell me about Halloween.”

“I came to school dressed in a Sailor Moon outfit. I know, generic anime, but I knew that my sewing skills were up to it. I had my sister help me with my makeup. I wore a wig, of course.”

“How did that go?”

“I was using it as a test run,” I continue. I’m lost in the memory, my last happy girl memory, before he ruined everything.

“I was building up the courage to talk to my parents about…how I felt. I loved the attention I got in the costume, and I even got some really nice compliments from some of the girls. It was perfect. To top it off, he asked me to meet him at his house after school.

“I remember how my stomach fluttered when I found out about it. I was so happy. I think I must have radiated joy to those around me. I felt…beautiful.”

Dr. Waters just sits there quietly as I continue to relate what happened so many years ago.

“I arrived at his house…such a nice house…he kisses me and I pull back. No, I’m not that type of girl…not all girls just want to do that to you…he’s undressing, and I can feel myself getting aroused…I’m shaking my head no…please, I don’t want…he’s stronger than I am, and he forces me onto the ground. He tears my panties…no…no…no…I don’t want to, not like this. I don’t want to…but I can feel it building as he continues…every once in a while pleasure just bursts through me…”

I break down sobbing and Dr. Waters just holds me as I cry.

“Doctor, I’m so afraid that he was right, and I’m afraid that even if he was wrong that I’ll feel like I’m there with him again if Steve and I…I want to die.”

“Liadan, you were raped.”

“You can’t rape the willing.”

“Bullshit.”

I look at her shocked.

“The sexual drive is one of the most powerful that we have. We are hard-wired to want to procreate. It is part of who we are. Sex is a natural part of life. You need to embrace the fact that you are a sexual creature. No, I’m not saying to have casual sex, nor am I saying you should dress provocatively.

“You are going to want to have sex. Most people do. This may lessen a bit as the level of testosterone in your blood drops, but…”

“I have testosterone in my blood?”

“Most women do, though not generally as much as you do. Don’t worry, it’s not nearly as high as ‘male you’ had. Just higher than normal. There is some causal linkage between testosterone and female sexual response.”

“Oh, then as soon as this testosterone…”

“Don’t believe it. Female arousal is at least as much mental as physical. If you’re this ‘turned on’ by Steve, I doubt it is all the hormones.”

“He asked me to marry him.”

“I hope you said yes.”

“But I’m a guy…”

“Really? Strip.”

“What?”

“Naked now.”

I get out of my clothing and Dr. Waters walks me over to the mirror.

“I want you to spend some time looking at yourself in the mirror. I’m going into the other room and talk to Angela for a bit.”

She leaves me there looking at myself in the mirror. I’m a little on the skinny side, at least to my own eyes, but I have curves, the dangerous kind. I spend some time examining myself, both visually and tactilely. Nothing sexual, but I want to get the feel of my new body. I want to know where all the parts are. I even spend some time looking at my new vagina.

My vagina.

Mine.

The thought sends little pleasure spikes through me. There is no way that anyone would mistake me for anything other than a girl.

I get dressed again, relishing the feel of clothing on my skin, and head out to where Dr. Waters and Angela are talking quietly.

“I half expected to hear you moaning from the other room.” Angela says when I appear.

I blush, again, but I can’t help it. It’s not that I didn’t think about doing just that just to get a ‘feel’ for my new body, but I want to explore it with Steve for the first time. Not that I tell either of them this. I just smile. I have the same desires as I did before, they’re just focused in a different direction.

Dr. Waters bids us goodbye, and Angela and I go shopping. We start from the ground up, as it were, and get me some everyday lingerie. Then we get the sexy lingerie. Then we go to town and buy me a wardrobe.

“I knew you were rich, but dayum girl, we must have bought up half the store.”

A lot of my clothing comes from regular stores, as a skirt is a skirt, and a top is a top. They just fit a bit shorter on me than other women. Other women, the thought still gives me a warm feeling that I am considered a woman now.

We find enough clothing to really start my wardrobe, but again we find ourselves a Dahle’s before the end of the day. I may be wearing really skinny clothing now, but my legs seem longer. I think I lost most of my height in my torso. Maybe I don’t need heels to make my legs look longer, they are long enough as it is.

Jeans and slacks are my primary purchases at Dahle’s but I get some other things, like a skinnier version of the dress I just loved last time. It doesn’t seem to fit my new shape as well, but I buy it anyway, to remind me of that feeling from the first time I went shopping with my mom as a woman.

Its only when we get home that I realize that I’ve been happy. As we shopped, filling out my wardrobe, I’ve been happy. It’s not the shopping that makes me happy either. I was treated as I appeared to be in every store that we visited. I am a woman. Inside I have been for years, and the outside now matches that. The store clerks treated me as a woman, and I think that is a good portion of how much I purchased. I’d never have purchased this much if I stopped to think about it.

Not that I am a skinflint or something, just that I don’t think I should go out and purchase things for the sake of purchasing them. Even thinking that, I realize that I’ve only purchased the bare essentials. I’d spent years acquiring a wardrobe for Cray. Now, I’d only spent a day trying to do the same for Liadan.

Angela helps me to get the purchases into my apartment and I tell her I have stuff to do. She smiles at me and leaves. I think that she’s not as worried about me as before. I’m not as worried about me either.

That does leave me with a question of what to do with myself, however. With the cry, the counseling, and the shopping, I thought it would be later, but the clock on my wall tells me that it is just a little after three.

Knowing that everyone else wears casual clothing where I’ve decided to go, I get into a t-shirt and jeans.

Every time I imagined being a woman, I was wearing clothing that was distinctly female. It was a dress, or a skirt and blouse. Something along those lines was always a part of my fantasy. While the cut of the clothing was female, there was nothing I was wearing that I couldn’t as the male me. It isn’t a hello kitty t-shirt. There aren’t any sequins on the rear pockets of the jeans.

My outfit was as gender neutral as it could be, and still be form fitting.

I look at myself in the mirror and smile. I am still a woman, even in this.

A realization comes to me. Even when I was wearing guy clothing, I was a woman. Even with a penis, I was a woman.

Being a woman is not defined by how people see you, but it is defined by how you see yourself. Sure, it can be affected by clothing, makeup, and so many other things, but when you are sure of your gender, it comes through no matter what the packaging says.

Most people, I think, rely on the packaging to define their gender.

I take a few minutes to get a light lipstick to look right, but I leave all of my other makeup items where they lay. My complexion doesn’t seem to need it, and neither do I.

I’ll use much of it later, because a woman occasionally needs to show a new face to the world, but today, I think I will go au natural so to speak.

The wind whistles in through the broken window on the passenger side, a stark reminder to what really started this day. I know I’ll have to get it fixed, but currently it stands as a reminder that people really care about me.

I pull into the parking lot and find a space. I know I should just park in the one reserved for me, and everyone inside knows my little blue neon by sight, but I can’t do it. That was Cray’s parking spot, and while we share the same history, I’m not Cray anymore.

Walking across the parking lot in ballet flats is so much different than the shoes or sandals I am used to. They do something to reduce my height. Not much, I’m afraid, but anything is better than truly towering over every guy I meet.

I smile at that. Guys are something foreign for the first time in my thinking. Before all of this happened I was locked away in myself, knowing I was a guy, physically, and wanting nothing to do with it. Somehow that crept into my relationship with the male gender in general, making me resent them.

Now, however, I realize that resentment, and notice it’s leaving. Guys are something…interesting to me now.

While getting dressed, I thought it was because I was bored that I was coming in here, but I now realize that I want to be seen, and by the people I respect the most. The receptionist does a double take as I walk through the door. No one outside the office has a t-shirt like the one I’m wearing. I never told anyone that I got one for myself in a ladies fit.

It’s a mockup of the logo for our new game. The shirt is sort of a company uniform right now, and most of the guys wear it at least once a week. I realize that I need to start hiring more women. Not for any sort of equality, but just so I have some people I can talk to. Sure, I love the guys, to death, and some of them are really great to look at, but I never made friends with any of them. Steve has a much better relationship with them than I do.

“Miss, I can’t let you go in there.”

“It’s alright, Casey, I know I look, and sound, different, but I belong here. Steve should have explained…”

“Cray? No, it can’t be…”

I smile at the woman. She was one of the first people that Steve and I hired. She’d stuck with us through every single one of our successes and failures.

“I prefer Liadan,” I say with a smile.

“Of course, Liadan, and it really suits you better I think.”

“Thank you.”

“When Steve told me what happened, I expected to see Cray tromping around in a dress. Kind of like yesterday, only with breasts.”

“There was nothing wrong with me yesterday.”

“I noticed the nails and earrings.”

“Well, I liked the earrings, and the nails suit me, don’t you think?”

“Maybe in a color other than blue. They kinda scream, ‘I’m trying too hard.’”

I look at her and blink, and then smile. She is a little scared until I smile.

“I think you and I might just have to hang out sometime.”

“I’m not into…”

“Girls? Neither am I, thank god. Otherwise it might be a little awkward with Steve asking me to marry him.”

I blush at what I just said, but Casey squeals.

“You mean we’re having a company wedding?”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“What are you waiting for, girl? He is really good looking, has an excellent job, and I think he might just love you.”

“Casey, it’s not that simple and you know it.”

“Sorry, I got caught up in how natural you look that way. Everything fits now, which didn’t fit while you were pretending to be Cray.”

There is an awkward moment or two so I smile at her and say my goodbyes. Work grinds to a halt as I walk into the main area. Our developers and designers are organized into groups. Their backs to each other with an open space in between. It allows for easier collaboration, while still promoting good work practices. It also means that every one of them can see me as soon as I walk in. Some further back have to stand, but the general change in atmosphere causes all of them to have a look. The room is silent as I make my way to my office.

I can’t help it and I address them before I shut the door behind me.

“You do realize that this game is on a schedule?”

I say it with a smile, as it’s one of my frequent in-jokes. We never publish a release date until we are completely ready to release. It drives our fans crazy, but we have never missed a release date yet.

There are some nervous chuckles, as a couple of them get it, but they still don’t quite get it. Steve comes out of his office, “What’s going on out here?” he asks before seeing me. His mouth drops open.

“What do you think of the shirt?” I say with a smile. His eyes of course drop reflexively to my chest and I see him blushing.

“You little minx.” He says and the room bursts out laughing. I think they realize what I just did. Steve certainly does.

“Steve, you and I have a lot to discuss, like your not preparing the office for my eventual return. Casey actually stopped me wondering who I was.”

“Who are you?” a voice from the back calls.

“This is Cray. She is going to be going by the name of Liadan from now on, as Cray doesn’t seem appropriate anymore.”

“You go, girl,” says Henry. There’s some nervous laughter over that.

“Look, I’m still me, I just upgraded my packaging,” I say.

“It’s a great improvement,” says someone else.

“I’ll have you know she’s spoken for,” Steve says.

“Oh really?” I ask.

Steve colors, so I decide to throw him a bone. I kiss him on the cheek and then turn back to the guys, “nothing is going to change around here. We still have a game to finish, and I’m still noticing lag in the interface, Randal.”

“What lag?”

“The lag where I think about opening the menu and I have to wait until I die because the system stops responding.”

I’m looking at Randal and watch him color. I told him three times in email the problem, and only told him publicly to underscore a point.

“I’ll get right on it.”

I enter my office, and affix the pad behind my ear. I shoot off a quick email to Randal to meet me in my office. I look up to see Steve standing there. I gesture to a seat off to one side and wait for Randal to show up.

“You wanted to see me, Cray?”

“Well, it looks like listening isn’t really your strong suit, is it, Randal.”

“No not really,” he says to my chest.

“Randal, do we need to fire you for harassment as well as incompetence?” I say in a matter of fact tone.

He looks up at me startled. I think my bland expression calms him down a bit. I see Steve cringing in the corner.

“Randal, I’d planned on doing this yesterday, but events prevented me.”

“Events?”

“Yes, a medical emergency. That being said, Randal, I shouldn’t have brought it up in front of the company. If you’d like another chance to fix your mistake, you can have a fix for that bug in to my office by end of day today.”

“That’s only two hours!” he whines.

“Really? Then you’d better hurry. I mean, it’s not as if you have three weeks to complete it.”

“I never saw…”

“The multiple emails I sent you about it?” Steve asks, heading me off. He knew I was about to rip this poor young man a new one. “Or any of the emails that Liadan sent you? I checked your inbox. All of them were marked as read.”

“This isn’t fair!” Randal fairly screams.

“Then you’d better get to work, hadn’t you?” I say, calmly.

“Who are you to tell me what to do you b…”

“You’ll watch your tone, Randal, or I’ll be kicking you out of there,” Steve says, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“Randal, I’m your boss. That’s who I am. Steve here is also your boss. Steve would likely want to fire you right here,” I say and Steve nods.

“That being said, I’m planning on giving you another chance. This is your last chance. Here’s the problem you have. I actually looked into the cause of the problem. I know why this is happening. I could have fixed the problem last week. It took me a little over half an hour to find it.”

“This is a set up.”

“Nope, it’s a test, Randal. If you pass, you keep your job. You fail, and you don’t.” I say it, again with a smile. I’m not happy to be calling him to task, but I am happy to be me. I get to do what I love, making games, and I get to do it as me.

I think I’ve thrown off Randal, and he sort of nervously walks out of the room. I giggle a bit and Steve smiles at me.

“What’s gotten into you, Liadan. I’ve never seen you so…”

“Bubbly?”

“That works as well as anything else.”

“Because I am really happy with myself.”

“Something changed since this morning.”

“I changed. I buried some of my demons. I’m not perfect…”

“You are to me.”

I see the sincerity in his eyes, and I blush, “I meant I still have issues, silly man.”

“And who doesn’t? Seriously, it freaks me out a little bit how much I love you.”

“What? You’re not…”

“Never. I’d never take back what I’ve said. You’re going to have to get used to me chasing you.”

“And if I tell you I don’t want you?”

“Then you better mean it, because I’ll be gone.”

The floor dropped out from beneath my feet. The idea of him leaving me was more than I could stand. I couldn’t even find word to voice it for a moment.

“I’ve decided I’m no wilting flower. You asked me to marry you, so I’m asking you to a cousin’s wedding. No, I’m not saying yes, yet, but it’s a possibility.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Of course I am. You are, after all, interested in marrying me.”

“Then I’ll go with you to this thing as your date.”

“Good, since I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”

He smirked at me, and I just pushed him out the door. I did have work to do, after all. Seeing him wasn’t the only reason I’d come into the office. Sure, it had been a big part of it, but it wasn’t all of it by a long shot.