Ms. Walker and Jessie – part II
Thanks to Dee Sylvan for some editorial help.
When I left Aunt Carol I slowly walked back down to my apartment, and just sat there on the couch, thinking. After twenty-four years of having no family, I was still finding it hard to think of having even one relative, someone who appeared to care for me even if she didn’t know me. …All those foster families… I seldom got close to any of my foster siblings. I was picked on for my size so I kept my head down and tried to be invisible and as genial as possible. I did like Carol but imagining her as related…my own flesh and blood… it just didn’t feel real. I just sat there on the couch as it darkened outside, musing about the changes in my life in the last month.
There was a noise at the door, and Kelly let herself in. She instantly saw me in my dress, and flew over to me on the couch, plopping herself down and throwing her arms around me.
“There’s my girl! So good to see you, Baby! Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“Hey Kelly,” I said, looking around the dimly lit room. “Oh! I didn’t even realize it had gotten dark. When I got home from work, for some reason I decided I’d go upstairs to see Carol. I don’t even know why, but I dressed up first.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Baby. Was she glad to see you?”
“Oh, yeah! She was very happy to see me! She showed me old family photos and talked a little about the people, people I’m supposed to think of as my family. Then she asked me about myself, and when I told her about my job, she said she might be able to get me a job with her big publishing company, and that it would probably pay much better.”
“Well that all sounds pretty great! Is there a problem?”
“Well, no, not really. It’s just hard to come to terms with all that’s happened in the last four weeks. You might not believe this, but she told me I was like a ray of sunshine in her life, and… I started crying!”
“Aw, honey. You were probably happy,” she said, giving me a kiss. “It’s completely normal.”
“But—I can’t even remember the last time I cried. I don’t cry at the drop of a hat!”
“Well, possibly Tim doesn’t, but maybe Jessie does. Baby, you’re finding parts of yourself that were probably repressed your whole life. It’s a good thing!” she said, hugging me harder and leaning her head against mine.
“I’m just confused about so much of it,” I said. “I do like being Jessie, but it somehow seems wrong.” I looked into Kelly’s eyes. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Well thank you! You know, the family part is something you’ll get used to. As for you and your gender identity, what if, say, the two of us were to go somewhere for a long weekend? You could find out what it’s like to be Jessie 24/7.”
I thought about that.
“That actually sounds like a good idea.”
In the morning, as I left for work, I happened to see Aunt Carol on the stairs. She asked me for my cell phone number, and once I was home after work, she called to invite me and Kelly to dinner the next evening. She said she knew Kelly was an important part of my life and wanted to get to know her too.
“Do you want to go with Jessie or Tim, Aunt Carol?”
“Sweetheart, you decide. I’m happy to see either one of you. This will be at Romano’s, so we’ll be able to dress up a little bit, if that helps.”
I called to report this to Kelly.
“That sounds great! I’m looking forward to meeting her properly. And of course, it should be Jessie who goes. Think of this as a preliminary to our weekend together,” she said.
The next evening Kelly arrived at my apartment to help me get ready. She looked through the clothes she had gotten me and chose a nice blue dress for the occasion. She brought some jewelry along for me. She supervised my makeup application, and said I did a pretty decent job, guiding me so I had more of what she called an evening look. Kelly herself had on a conservative black skirt and white blouse with a little black jacket, and looked great, as usual.
At the appointed time Carol knocked on the door. She broke into a huge smile to see Jessie once more, gave me a hug, and warmly greeted Kelly. The three of us went downstairs to find a cab waiting. The ride wasn’t long, and we were dropped off in front of the restaurant, where the door was held open for us. Neither Kelly nor I had ever been there before, and we were surprised at its opulence.
Carol was known to the maître d’, and we were quickly seated.
“Now girls, order whatever you like,” she said.
I was still on edge, being out in public, feeling like all eyes were on me, but I pulled myself together and ordered a chicken dish with a side salad and a coke. Kelly and Carol had similar dishes, but with wine. I had lived in too many homes where drinking was the norm and had vowed to stay away from alcohol.
“Kelly, please tell me something about yourself,” asked Carol.
“Well, let’s see… I grew up on the north side of town. I’m the oldest of three. My dad is a successful chemical engineer, and my mother is a successful biomedical engineer. I love my work as an orientation therapist for the blind, at the Sight Center, and I’m so happy that Jessie found her aunt, as well as this part of herself.”
I blushed, and the other two smiled.
“What about you, Aunt Carol? Tell us about you,” I said, to take some of the attention off of me.
“When my sister got pregnant, I was away at college,” she began. “I was appalled at the way my parents were handling the situation, and I was not even aware of the situation until Jessie was already ill, and well along in her pregnancy. They tried to keep it quiet, because they were embarrassed and felt scandalized. I tried to make them see sense, but Jessie was already six months pregnant by then, and very unwell. After she died, I was furious with them. I finished college and found a job very quickly at the publishing house where I still work. I couldn’t bring myself to live with them again, but I eventually forgave them, because holding on to the anger was doing me no good. But our relations were always somewhat strained after that.”
She took another sip of wine and continued.
“When I was twenty-eight I fell in love with a young man, and about six months later we had a quiet wedding. After two years I felt that he was straying. I confronted him and he admitted that he wasn’t in love with me anymore. It broke my heart, but I wasn’t going to keep him if he wasn’t interested, so we were divorced. Aside from that I enjoy travel and have been all over the world. At my job I’ve met many fascinating authors, as well as some very peculiar ones.”
We asked Carol about the authors and some of her experiences with them, and she regaled us with some pretty odd-sounding stories about the more eccentric ones, like one guy who told her he could only do his writing if he was naked at the kitchen table.
After more general discussion the meal was finished. None of us was able to finish our entire meal. Kelly and Carol weren’t buzzed, but there was a relaxed and happy atmosphere at the table, which even I was aware of. The three of us felt very comfortable with each other.
After a silence, Carol spoke.
“Jessie, dear, I have some news for you. The job I mentioned is indeed available, but the window for this availability is not that long. If you are interested in the job, you will have to decide if Tim or Jessie would be working.”
For me, the warm and relaxed feeling suddenly vanished.
“Oh,” I said, in a small voice. “When do I have to decide?”
“Well, the sooner the better, of course, but I would think a month at most.”
“Carol, Jessie and I are going away for a long weekend next week, to let her see what being Jessie all day long would be like. Maybe that’ll help,” put in Kelly.
“That seems an excellent plan, Kelly. Do you agree, Jessie?”
“Yes, I do. I’m just so unsure about living as Jessie. I mean, I am enjoying being Jessie, but I really don’t know enough about how a woman acts and reacts, or about any greater ramifications.”
“Listen, Baby, I will work with you on these things. It’s part of our weekend away. And think of it this way: if being Jessie all the time stresses you out too much you could do what you’re doing now, but in reverse. When you get home from work you could be Tim. If you miss it, that is.”
Carol agreed that that sounded sensible, and the idea appealed to me.
“Okay then, Aunt Carol, I’ll apply for the job—as Jessie.”
“That’s splendid, my dear!”
When the cab deposited us back at the apartment house, Carol turned to Kelly and offered her hand.
“I’m so glad you were able to come tonight, my dear. I very much enjoyed the company of you both.”
“Thank you, Carol. The pleasure was ours.”
We all hugged and went our separate ways.
That night I lay awake for a long time. I was comforted that Kelly was in the bed with me, but my life seemed a little out of control. Was I really going to apply for a job as a woman? People don’t just decide to switch sex one day… do they? Well, no one I knew. Aside from the obvious fear of being “clocked,” there were so many “what-ifs” that I knew it would drive me crazy to try and come up with every single one. I should just forget about them and try to live my life.
Eventually I was exhausted by all that mental exercise and fell asleep with Kelly spooning me.
Both Kelly and I were able to get Friday off from our jobs, and after I was dressed as Jessie that morning and we were packed, we drove off to a lakeside resort town about forty-five minutes away. The season was over and not a lot was going on, but there were still some shops and restaurants open. In other words, people were around to interact with, which was what Kelly had in mind.
She taught me about morning routines, and evening routines, about hair care and more about makeup. She said I was an attentive pupil, and I found the practice of some of it kind of soothing.
We went out to eat for every meal, and Kelly would encourage me do my own ordering, to gain confidence. I didn’t have a very manly voice to start with, and Kelly had been working with me to make it sound more musical. Kelly told me I already seemed to be gaining confidence, though I told her I still felt as if I was in the spotlight whenever I was in public, and about to be unmasked.
“Baby, I’m telling you, you’re getting attention because you’re pretty, nothing else!”
There were a couple of encounters with men who gave us both the eye, and Kelly demonstrated how to handle those situations.
We strolled the shops and even bought some clothes. Kelly tried to educate me about color coordinating, and about what to wear when. I didn’t think I had one little clue about this stuff, but Kelly said I had a bit of innate style sense; I could at least tell when two colors were a horrible combination—perhaps from my graphics training—and Kelly worked to bring this out in me.
“Jessie,” said Kelly on our second night, “Do you realize how natural your interactions have been while we’re here? No one at all has even looked at you sideways or given the slightest indication you are not who you appear to be.”
“I’m still scared, Kelly. I feel like a fraud, and I’m starting to wonder who I really am. I can’t understand why a lot of this seems to come naturally. I’ve actually been thinking about seeing a counselor.”
“You know, that’s probably a very good idea. But even with your worries, honey, I think we can consider this weekend a success. Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“That’s my girl! Always so positive!” she laughed and hugged me.
During the following week I came in and applied for the job at Carol’s business. After looking my portfolio over, they seemed impressed, and said they’d give me a call.
“But I’m sure they tell that to every applicant,” I told Kelly.
They did call back three days later to offer me the job, and as Carol had said, it was a significant increase in salary from my current job.
Kelly did some online research and went out to buy me padded control gaffs. She investigated gluing on the breast forms and how often they should come off for the skin to breathe. She did some casual clothes shopping for me on her own; she had more disposable income than I did, as well as a better idea of what I’d look good in.
When I was presented with all the clothes and other items I was overwhelmed. I really wasn’t used to this generosity, and yes, I cried again.
“Kelly, you do so much for me. To quote Aunt Carol, ‘you’re the ray of sunshine in my life!’ But I don’t feel as if I do anything for you.”
“You may not realize it, honey, but you do things for me all the time, and just being with you is its own reward. I have just loved this whole adventure, watching you get in touch with your feminine side,” she replied.
We had a long and heartfelt hug.
With Carol’s help I was able to find a counselor and had my first session before I began my new job.
At the first counseling session I explained my entire history to the counselor, Beth Taylor: my mother dying when I was born, the lousy, life-sucking foster homes, trying to avoid bullying, meeting Kelly, how I ended up as Jessie and how I was about to start a new job as a female.
“But it all just started as a JOKE,” I stressed.
Beth said, “It is very evident you have a strong feminine side, Jessie, and the ‘joke’ turned out to be the key to unlock this part of your personality. You don’t have the rough edges I usually see in a man presenting as a woman. To me you come across totally as a woman.”
“That’s another thing: I’m confused about how easy it seems to be for me to fall into this role, as well as the fact that it just seems wrong to do. I wasn’t looking to unlock anything.”
“Why does it seem wrong?”
“Well, you know, because men aren’t supposed to dress as women.”
“And who says that?”
“Um. Society.”
“So, you’re telling me that because of how you grew up, Society trained you to think this was wrong?”
I thought a moment.
“Yes, I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
“And what about women presenting as men?”
“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Somehow that isn’t perceived as being so wrong.”
“Yes, not quite fair, is it? Well, if I were to tell you it was totally acceptable for you to present as a woman, and there would be no consequences, would you go ahead with it?”
This was a bit tougher, but I had to be honest.
“Yes, I think I would. I… I like being Jessie. It’s somehow easier to be her.”
“Okay, let’s try and go about this a different way. Is Tim a happy person?”
“Well, things are going pretty well for him lately.”
“Yes, but would you say he’s an intrinsically happy person?”
“Well, no. He didn’t grow up happily. Everything was a struggle. He was totally amazed when Kelly showed interest in him.”
“And what about Jessie? Is she happy?”
I struggled with this question for a while.
“I think she’s happier than Tim. But she’s not exactly living her life twenty-four hours a day. Maybe she’s happy only because she’s around for the fun stuff.”
“Is that what you really believe?” asked Beth, in a non-judgmental way.
This made me squirm for a while, but I admitted that no, I didn’t believe it.
Beth had me take a Gender Role test, which she said indicated I scored very high on the feminine side, and pretty low on the masculine side. Beth said she wanted to show this is innate behavior, rather than just an act I was putting on.
“But I never felt the least bit feminine growing up.”
“Jessie, from what you have told me about your childhood, you were almost always in survival mode in all those foster homes, for all those years. All buttoned up, feeling unloved, and trying to attract no attention. Now that you are loved, and can relax, at least somewhat, this part of yourself can emerge. This is not a bad thing. I venture to say that it was a very lucky ‘joke’ you pulled, so that this part of you could come out naturally, rather than suddenly burst out with no support or way to cope with it. Because it is part of who you are.
“Also, just looking at you I suspect you don’t have a very high testosterone count. There’s a lack of facial and arm hair, your small hands, your not-very-masculine-sounding voice. There is a possibility it could be due to some factor in your premature birth, and your mother being unwell during much of the pregnancy. It’s also a possibility that she drank alcohol during pregnancy, as you have indicated she was depressed. But I don’t think confirming this will change anything. You are very natural as Jessie, as a female. It’s mainly a matter of coming to terms with your desires.”
I was somewhat less conflicted, and thought the session helped. I looked forward to the next one.
After I was hired Carol arranged things with Human Resources so that I could work as my female self. Carol explained to HR that I was transgender and still coming to terms with it. HR agreed this would not be a problem and would remain confidential.
In the Graphics department I was introduced to my co-workers, two women, both close to six feet tall. I felt very small around them, at 5 ft. 7. They were both in their early thirties. Grace took almost too much interest in me. I was a little bit alarmed and assured her I was in a serious relationship. She smiled, leading me to think I had misinterpreted her interest. She took me under her wing and treated me like a little sister, in a good sense. I felt comfortable with her.
The other woman, Sandra, wasn’t quite so friendly, but we got along okay.
I was hired in November, and very soon the holiday party was announced.
At the party I was aware that Sandra had had some alcohol. She came over to me sounding a little sloshed.
“There’s our little artist. Gimme a hug, cutie.”
She started to hug me but then wouldn’t let go. I started to protest and struggle, and she kissed me, hard. I actually screamed, and someone pulled Sandra off me.
This really shook me. I’d been harassed before, sure, but not in a sexual way, and it made me feel very vulnerable. I was far more used to people ignoring me.
There were a lot of witnesses, so Human Resources was made aware of the incident, and I was called in to talk. My voice trembled as I described the entire scene, and I was asked if I would be filing a formal complaint. I wasn’t happy it had happened, but I knew Sandra had had a few drinks, and was willing to cut her some slack, so I said, no, I would not take any action. If it happened again, though…
HR also called Sandra in, and I heard she was severely rebuked, and put on probation.
Afterwards I came home, still jittery, and Kelly comforted me and soothed my raw nerves.
After the new year started, at work I was a little skittish around Sandra, and talked to her as little as possible. I made sure to avoid finding myself alone with her. She seemed to try a little harder to be nice to me, but I really tried to keep her at arm’s length. Grace told me later she had a word with Sandra and told her to back off. She said Sandra felt awful about what she had done, especially because she had experienced sexual harassment herself.
Carol, Kelly and I were spending more time together, having meals together, attending events and just chatting. I had relaxed a bit about having her as my aunt and started feeling a glimmer of what it was like to have at least one relative.
We were having dinner at Carol’s apartment one evening, and we could tell she had something on her mind.
“I have been thinking about how well the three of us get along, and I have a proposal. What if I were to buy a large house and we could all live there together? I have the money, and I’d like to be closer to both of you.”
Kelly and I had both grown to love Carol, but we were a little worried about autonomy and privacy if we were to share a house. Carol assured us the house would be big enough for us to have our privacy. There’s the added incentive of not having to pay for each of our apartments, although we both insisted that we would need to pay Carol something.
“My dears, that’s completely unnecessary. I’d really love to have you both live with me.”
The two of us weren’t totally happy about getting something for nothing, but together we resolved to, at the least, take care of the house as well as we could, and contribute, say, all the food.
Carol did find us a big house. It had a central living area, and two wings, with Carol in one and Kelly and me in the other. If necessary, we would be able to make meals in our wing, but we all intended to share meals at the start. We all moved in and liked the arrangement, and it wasn’t long before we started to feel like a family. This was especially important to Aunt Carol and me.
At first, I was treating it like Aunt Carol’s house, but she could tell I wasn’t as relaxed about living there as she would have hoped. She sat down with me, put her arm around me and reassured me she loved me and that she really wanted me to feel At Home and comfortable there. I looked at her and tears came to my eyes. She was so accepting of me, and though I knew she loved me it was really taking some time to penetrate my thick skull.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Carol. It’s all still a bit overwhelming.”
“No need to apologize, my dear. I know you have had some hard and unhappy times in the past, but I hope you are finding life easier now.”
It took a while, but I gradually started to feel like it was really our home.
As time passed, I got used to my job, and to being Jessie. Only twice, early on, did I come home and try to be Tim again, but it just felt so weird now. The male clothes felt odd; not having my breast forms on felt odd; and by now, with my hair styled and my skin care routines, I looked like a woman trying to pass as a man. So, two times was enough and I didn’t try it again. The other two women didn’t comment.
After six months of day-in, day-out living as Jessie, I felt confident enough to change my name, legally, so now I wasn’t so worried about being stopped while driving. This also made things easier with my employers, having legal identification as Jessie Waters.
Things in my department at work improved. Sandra’s whole demeanor was better, and she and I were able to discuss work things without me feeling too uncomfortable.
One day Grace called me over to her work area.
“Jessie, we have a job I think is right up your alley. This author needs a book cover as well as advertising materials, and somehow, I think you’re the right woman for the job.”
Up to this point I had mostly designed the insides of the books. Doing the cover and the rest was a big deal for me.
“Are you sure, Grace?”
“Absolutely. You’ll do fine.”
I got to work on the project, and a few days later, when my roughs were completed, I showed Grace.
“These are great! I think this is exactly what they want! I want you to refine these a bit, and then you’ll have to do a presentation.”
I swallowed hard. I had never done a presentation.
Grace could see I was frightened of this prospect.
“Don’t worry, Jessie. I’ll walk you through the process.”
She schooled me in the methods she uses, and while we went through it, I thought of some things on my own I could also do. She had me do a practice run-through, which went well, and when I gave the presentation, it was a resounding success; the whole thing was very well received and I was highly complimented. I found I was actually proud of my work, and it gave me more self-confidence.
A year after I started at the publishing house Aunt Carol was assigned an author she had long admired, Tom Pendleton, a man in his fifties who wrote travel books she had read. She said he was easy to work with, and they got along very well. He happened to live in town, and Aunt Carol invited him to dinner at our house several times. Kelly and I wanted to give them privacy, but for the first two meals Carol insisted we all eat together.
We two could see Aunt Carol was falling in love with Tom, and we were very happy for her. We didn’t know how this might affect our future, but we thought she really deserved love in her life. We both liked Tom, and found him a fascinating figure, full of stories about his travels, in addition to the long string of jobs he had held before he started writing.
Helen Roper, one of the women who worked closely with Aunt Carol stopped me in the break room at work one day to talk about Carol and Tom.
“You know something, Jessie? I think you are the best thing that happened to Carol in years. After she met you, she became a warmer person, more open and easier to work with. Don’t get me wrong—she wasn’t hard to work with before! It’s just that she’s, well, more caring now. I wouldn’t be surprised if this change in her is what allowed her to become involved with Tom Pendleton.”
I was astonished at this. I had always thought of Aunt Carol this way… well, once I got used to the idea of being related to her.
“I’m sure I had nothing to do with it, Helen.”
She just smiled.
At about the same time Tom asked Carol to marry him, Kelly proposed to me. There were two small weddings, one right after the other, so Aunt Carol and I could be there for each other. I was so grateful Kelly’s family had no problem with me. In fact, her mom really tried to mother me once she found out about my history. She didn’t have any problem with my presentation as Jessie at all, and I did come to think of her as a mother figure.
Carol wanted us to continue living where we were, and Tom had no objection. He moved in with us and we started to mesh as a real family, the first I ever knew. And Kelly. Kelly, without whom I would be so much less, continues to be the love of my life.
The End.
Really.
Disclaimer: I know nothing about counseling (or psychiatry), in spite of what Barbie Lee might suspect. Yep, it’s just Fiction.
Comments
Kelly is a good friend
Jessie certainly was a sad confused boy growing up. What an awful start to life. Kelly must have seen something in him that he was oblivious to. Meeting Carol was indeed a new chapter in his life. Finding out that his mother loved him but died giving birth had to help Jessica finally come to peace with her emerging personality and new friends and job. Great job on this NN1. It was a pleasure to read a story with a happy ending. :D
DeeDee
Thank you DeeDee. Glad you
Thank you DeeDee. Glad you liked it.
Until I actually learn how to write a story, I really need to stay away from two-parters!
And yet
I still do not think this is the end...
Nice story
Much of counselling is to hold the client (psychologically) so they feel safe to explore themselves. Obviously, you need to understand why they are seeing you, and repeating back to the client because it enables them to understand what they are saying, from that you try to understand why they are saying it. Counselling isn't about problem solving unless it's showing a client they already have the resources to deal with a situation, perhaps even rehearsing that situation. It's about caring without being involved and you never give advice just an opinion if asked and you make sure they appreciate that, although it's better sometimes not to. Sometimes you find that they issue they present with isn't what is really troubling them and it may be something related or it may end up with something like an onion with lots of layers. All counsellors have supervisors to make sure they are not becoming involved or solving their own issues on a client, which is called transference and counter- transference. So now you know.
Angharad