Sydney Moya

(c) 2016

Life goes on.

For me it did, despite the pain and acute sense of loss I felt after Claire’s death. I awoke some mornings thinking it was a dream, some horrible nightmare I’d wake up from. Unfortunately this nightmare was all too real. It seemed I was a glutton for punishment as I’d dial her number sometimes.

I’d reach her voicemail and listen to it. My heart would break all over again. After a while that stopped working and all I could do was take solace in my memories. For a while that is all I did. When I was at work, at home all I did was think of Claire and the horrible way she’d died.

I cared for nothing any more. I was just empty inside. Even Pete couldn’t reach me. I turned down every offer to hang out. Pete’s place was tainted by happy memories of Claire. I just wanted the pain to stop. My family was worried about me. Apparently I hardly smiled anymore.

“You’re so glum,” Mum told me.

I didn’t have the energy to dispute or justify it. I retreated into a shell. I was an actor in my own life, a mediocre one at that. It’s a wonder I didn’t get fired from my job because I was just cruising. Looking back now, it was clear my standards had dipped. I lacked that passion I’d once had. I didn’t give a damn at the time though. I switched off nearly everything around me, the things which had upset me before didn’t have any effect now. I was already damaged.

She gave me a hug.

I couldn’t even cry anymore. I was just so tired.

Months passed. I don’t remember too much of that time, maybe I’ve purposely blocked it off for the sake of mental health. I think I gained 10kg which wasn’t good. Mum’s way of dealing with it was making me tons of comfort food. I was just drifting, still disconsolate.

I know I did all the preps for my surgery, sent a couple of job applications out but I couldn’t have cared less. Nothing seemed real as I was disconnected with everything, a stranger in my own life with the exception of my grief which dogged me relentlessly until one day that summer. Jo, Rhys and were having a day out. I don’t recall how she’d dragged me out of bed and the house but she’d managed it and took us into town. After some shopping we’d made our way to Hyde Park.

It was surprisingly pleasant for some reason, looking across the Serpentine made me less sad. Jo wanted to show Rhys the fountains. We walked through the Italian gardens and my little nephew was amazed.

He grabbed my hand, “Auntie, look at how pretty they are!” Rhys declared.

I looked at him, then the fountains. I wondered at his childlike innocence which warmed my sad soul. I thought nothing was more beautiful than his happy face.

‘I don’t want to miss this kid growing up,’ I thought to myself.

I smiled for real for the first time in months.

“Yes they are my luv,” I replied.

I walked over to the edge of the fountain with him so he could get a closer look. Children love simple things, they find joy in the small things we take for granted. The world isn’t jaded for them. They have the capacity to melt even the coldest hearts. I found joy in Rhys happiness and for the first time in ages I didn’t feel haggard and disconsolate. I could feel life was worth living again. That was the day I began to live again.

This doesn’t mean I forgot Claire but the crushing sadness wasn’t as oppressive anymore. I started to exercise again. I reached out to Pete and Myra, two people who’d been friends to Claire too. They had never abandoned me and told me they’d been worried sick about me but I’d been in a world of my own. I remembered Myra trying to get through a few weeks back. She’d had tears in her eyes and I hadn’t cared. I wondered for the first time if I’d lost my sanity while I grieved. It seems like I’d turned into a complete stranger after Claire’s death but my therapist said it was normal, some people just handled extreme shock like that.

I was relieved but still a bit worried about my mental health. Still the fact that I could worry about my health was a positive.

By the time I went for my surgery I was beginning to recover. There was still a huge emptiness inside over Claire but I wasn’t as overwhelmed anymore. I actually looked forward to resolving something that had been a huge issue over my whole life.

Mum and Dad accompanied me to the hospital for the surgery. There were no tears from either of them,( me mum is one tough old bird you know).

Dad hugged me.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure everything will go well lass,” he reassured me.

I smiled at him before pecking him on the cheek.

Mum also gave me a hug.

“I know you’re excited,” she told me.

I nodded, “Nervous too,” I replied.

I was just a bundle of nerves at that point

“You’ll be fine,” she said, clearly more confident than I was.

The next morning I was wheeled into the operating room. I was a bit scared, I mean who wouldn’t be but I knew I wasn’t going to chicken out at that stage. I really wanted to finish what I’d begun, months before, to be whole.

The surgery went well. I woke up hours after the deed had been done. Mum was sitting at my side reading a magazine.

She noticed me stirring and looked me in the eye,

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit wonky, it’s really sore,” I mumbled.

Mum took my hand and squeezed it.

“You’ll be fine, you heard the doctor,” she reassured me.

I gave her a wan smile.

“I am so proud of you my darling,” Mum continued, “when you started this I was certain you were making a terrible mistake. Now I see I was the one mistaken because ever since you were child I’d never really seen you happy but when you started this you came into your own. I’m so happy you’re the way you need to be now,” my mother told me.

I cried in her arms, very touched. She really got it. The surgery plus her words made my day.

You have to have experienced dysphoria to know what it felt like. It’s an oppressive weight on your soul, knowing you should be the opposite of what your body says, struggling to live a lie. Then trying to fix it so you can be the person you always wanted to be, while people stare and point and shake their heads, all the while wondering if you aren’t making a mistake. Then it’s done the end of the beginning and you’re free to start in a new direction.

I walked to the bar.

“Hello,” said the barman in a faint Irish brogue, “what can I get you?”

“Orange juice please. Make it plain,” I responded.

Going to soirees was annoying because of the quantities of alcohol freely available. Being an ex-alcoholic here wasn’t easy. Still it had been three years since I stopped drinking. I’d been through a lot and nearly fallen off the wagon more than once.

He nodded and got to work. Less than a minute later he had my drink.

“Thanks,” I said grabbing my drink and leaving him a tip.

I walked towards the melee in the centre of the room. I found an empty couch and draped myself on it before taking a sip of my juice, all the while scanning the room for anything interesting.

I saw Ellen, who waved at me. I gave her a little wave back.

Yeah that Ellen from my childhood, the very first person who’d seen who I really was. It was her doing that I was here, social butterfly that she was.

We’d reconnected shortly after my surgery.

Jo and I had gone shopping in Oxford St to celebrate my successful surgery. It had gone well, though it had been incredibly painful. I’d still do it in a heartbeat because nothing beats that feeling of looking at your reflection in the mirror and seeing the woman you’ve always felt you were. To say I was thrilled was the understatement of the century.

It was a relief and a joy to be physically a woman. I knew the minute I woke up I had done the right thing despite the tendrils of pain around my lower body. Having the right bits did wonders for my self-esteem. I know some people might say who cares when no one can see them but that didn’t matter because I could and didn’t have to feel uncomfortable with that part of my body again.

Being in high spirits I asked Jo to come shopping with me just for the hell of it. Rhys came along too and we hit the Regent Street. We’d just come out of Hamley’s the toyshop where we’d spent ages buying and looking at toys with Rhys.

(To be honest I think I wished I was a kid again around all those awesome toys, kids today have everything!)

Jo was just expressing this very opinion when a woman had barged right into us.

“‘Scuse me,” I said.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” she said, looking up with a concerned expression.

“Ellen?” I whispered, barely believing my eyes after being hit by a flash of recognition.

She cocked her head sideways like she’d always done, making me grin involuntarily.

“Charlie,” she murmured slowly, her eyes big while her mouth was huge ‘o’.

I nodded still smiling.

She looked me from top to bottom before throwing her arms around me.

“Wow!’’ Ellen remarked, “You look fantastic, I can’t believe you did it,wow!”

I shrugged.

“You have to tell me everything,” she continued, “can you imagine. I always wanted to look you up. In fact I went round to your old place but you’d moved,”

She hugged me again which was nice. She was happy to reconnect and wasn’t freaking out. How could she when she’d known who I really was before I did.

“We only moved a couple of streets away,”

Belatedly I remembered Jo, who was looking on with amusement.

“Ellen this is Jo, my sister in law and the little one is Rhys, my nephew,” I said.

“Jo this is my first friend Ellen,”

“Hi,” chirped Jo, “I have heard so much about you,” she said a smile on her face.

“It’s a pleasure. You have such a cute little boy. How is Wills?” Ellen asked.

Ellen promptly abandoned what she was doing and tagged along with us for another hour as we caught up on each other’s lives. She really wanted to hear about my transition, telling us she’d always felt I didn’t fit in as a boy and how she’d worried about me after they’d moved to Sunderland for her dad’s job.

I told her everything with Jo frequently chipping in too. As we talked I remembered why she’d been such a great friend to me. Ellen was quite empathetic, squeezing my hand through the hard parts especially about Claire when it threatened to overwhelm me.

I learnt about her life too, she’d gone to varsity and studied human resources before talking her way into a job at a headhunting firm. I mentioned my job and how I wanted out and she promised to help.

A couple of weeks later I had a new job.

Things were very different at my new agency. As far as I knew the rest of my colleagues didn't know who I had been and I intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

It was strange and novel to be treated like any other woman by everyone for a change with all the attendant baggage that goes with it. Strange as it sounds it was liberating. I blossomed somewhat and did the best work of my career.

Some of the other girls took an interest in me and took me under their wing, giving me the low down on everyone around.

I made new friends like Sheryl Evans. She was a blonde with a sunny disposition and always saw the bright side of life. A bit like Claire if I’m honest and we just clicked. She wasn’t a replacement for her though as I missed Claire more than ever, now that I had the new start we'd dreamt of together. I wondered what she'd make of my life now. Especially seeing as I had chosen a significant other.

I'd met Tim at one of Ellen's events. He was gorgeous and I’d been interested from the minute he walked up and said,

“Hi, I’m Tim, could I get you a drink?”

“Hi,” I smiled, “I’m fine thanks,” I responded.

“Okay Ms I’m fine thanks could I chat with you,” he offered unfazed.

I couldn’t help laughing. He was all charm so I decided to see where this led.

We began talking and it was nice. He was a good listener and I found myself enjoying his company. He took my number at the end of the evening after monopolizing my time.

Ellen told me she hated me.

“Why, you’ve got so much going for you,” I replied.

“You’re gorgeous and you have inside information,” she smirked, “He made a beeline for you and you kept him there the rest of the evening.”

“I can’t help it,” I teased, making Ellen roll her eyes, “Besides I thought you and Cormac were all but married,”

Cormac was her boyfriend; they’d been together for four years now.

“I know but can you imagine how long it took for me to get him to look at me let alone say something,”

“Goodness, you’re jealous,” I joked, making Ellen laugh.

“Definitely,”

My brother and I still had a cold war going on. We hadn't spoken in ages even though he lived round the corner and Jo and Rhys were always at our home. It was like I didn't exist to him. I told myself I didn't care what he thought and went out of my way to avoid him usually missing the usual Sunday roast Mum made for the whole family.

I didn’t hate Wills per se, he is my brother and my only sibling but after what had happened with Claire I couldn’t help making connections. I decided I was just going to avoid confrontations with him wherever possible. I never got to hear what might have happened to make Logan kill my friend because he’d hanged himself a few days after Claire passed away.

I vaguely remember the police talking to me but I wasn’t in a state to remember what I said. Pete later told me both cases had been closed as a murder suicide. I know I felt terrible for Claire’s family and I shivered in fear of my own family ending up like that. I prayed that I never encountered hate like that which ultimately destroys everyone around it.

Apparently Claire’s mother had wanted to meet me but I told Mum I couldn’t, not after how they’d buried Claire. I couldn’t help but wonder if I they’d had anything to do with it. Burying her under a name she didn’t want was so vindictive. Thankfully my mother told the policewoman I wasn’t ready for this. I put it out of my mind and no one brought it up again.

However I couldn’t change my relationship with Wills so we carried on as before with me more wary of him.

I was mostly happy with my life. I was and felt quite attractive which did wonders for my confidence. I wasn't yet 25 and had my whole life ahead of me without the burden of gender dysphoria on my shoulder.

I didn't jump into bed with anyone after the surgery. After all I hadn't had it so I could sleep around. I have heard about some girls who go wild after the surgery bedding loads of guys so as to prove their femaleness or something. I wasn't one of them. I still lived with my parents after all and they were old fashioned. Wills had Jo had only moved in together after their wedding so I can imagine the look on my Mums face if I'd returned from the walk of shame.

I had told Mum about Tim after our second date. She didn’t freak out, (I don’t know why I expected her to).

“I have been wondering when you would start dating. I’ve been a bit worried about you,”

“Why, I always wanted to wait till the surgery,” I replied

“Honey ‘m your mother, I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life alone and even when you were a teenager you never seemed interested in dating. When I found out you were a girl it explained a lot but I’ve been worried still,”

I hugged her, thankful she was my mum.

To be continued