Chapter two

I went back upstairs and had a go at my hair again. Nothing going, it simply refused to look feminine and I learnt the hard way what 'bad hair day' meant. I was close to tears when I gave up and nearly cried out for Mum to help me out but my pride objected so I turned to comfort food and a few good movies and spent my first full day as a girl in my bed eating cookies with copious amounts of milk while watching the DVD’s I'd collected and alternately wishing I hadn't been born XY or at least had a little sister.

Basically I was utterly miserable. Not exactly what I'd had in mind.

That evening I decided that the problem was the atmosphere at home. It wasn't exactly beneficial to my cause so I begged Pete to let me spend the day in his apartment and he agreed. I was wearing a pink top and denim skirt with my feet in low heels and clutching a goody bag with all my toiletries and my laptop when he and Myra turned up in the morning.

“Please don't laugh I know I look pathetic but if you laugh I'll burst out crying,” I moaned as Pete shook in his seat with barely repressed laughter and tried not to grin too much.

“Stop it Pete! Your voice sounds lovely Charlene and for a start you look okay. You just need extensions and a bit of make-up,” said Myra kindly.

She'd called me Charlene and was being so sweet. My eyes filled with tears.

“Thanks, could you help me out?” I replied.

“I'd love to,” said Myra and she came over to the back and we rifled through my bag.

She made a list of stuff to get for me and then set about examining my hair to see what shade of extensions would go with my hair. Pete had looked at us amazed at our girly chatter and the sound of my voice which he hadn't heard as I hadn't used it till that morning. He drove us to his place while the pair of us conferred in the back seat.

“Pete I thought Charlene was your buddy. How could you do that?” said Myra angrily once they'd left me at their flat.

“Do what?” said Pete confused.

“Laugh you twit. She was really close to tears you know,” retorted Myra, “Put yourself in her shoes for a second. Imagine how hard things are for her without her best friend laughing at her,” she added.

“Looked funny, sorry,” mumbled Pete.

I spent that day pretending I was at work and meeting clients. I wasn’t confident enough to venture outside so I stayed in the whole day waiting for Myra and Pete to come back from work and trying to look at the bright side of things and doing a better job of it than the previous day. When my friends came I felt much better and had put my culinary skills to good use by making a sumptuous dinner which earned me a big smile from Myra

“How come you're such a good cook and Pete is hopeless?” laughed Myra.

I just shrugged remembering that it was thanks to me having been Mum's kitchen helper and messing about in there with Ellen.

“You did a great job kid. If you ever feel like leaving your job I’ll hire you,” Pete teased.

After dinner Myra and I went to work with the make-up she'd bought for me- step by step she showed me how to apply make-up from cleansing my face to the foundation to the eye shadow and variations depending on the setting and time of day. It was fascinating and when we were through I was very pleased with the final effect. Myra told me to practise at home.

“Thank you so much!” I said gratefully.

“Don't mention it okay,” she told me. “Now,” she said eyeing my face critically, “about your hair. Hmm, how about we go to this place I know on Saturday?” replied Myra.

“Whatever you say,” I agreed happily, thankful for her going out of her way to assist me.

I spent the next few days at their flat going back home in the evenings. I was very grateful for the use of their home since it gave me the chance to practise with nobody giving me funny looks if I messed up. I worked on my make-up skills, moved around in heels and generally built up enough self-belief to begin to think that barring my hair I might not be a complete disaster after all when I returned to work. Besides I’d always looked more like a girl than a boy, I just needed a bit of help to look like a woman my age.

***

Saturday dawned bright and hopeful although I was terrified about going out into the world as a girl. I spent ages trying to get myself ready for my first outing; all my self-belief seemed to have ebbed away overnight. It didn't help matters when I met Jo downstairs with Rhys my two year old nephew and Mum looking at me like I was insane. I ignored the looks and greeted them cordially because there's no point in showing self-doubt before one's detractors. Instead I ate a tiny breakfast and waited for Myra to rescue me.

Once in the car I let my anxieties assail me. I wondered if they’d serve in the salon or hound me out the minute I showed up.

“No. The owner is a pink guy and they serve all sorts happily,” said Myra with certainty, “It’ll be okay Charlene. You do want to look good right?” she added.

I nodded.

“Great. I promise you won’t recognise yourself,” she said with a smile.

When we got there Pete stayed in the car playing with his phone while Myra whisked me off to my salvation. Inside the people at the counter treated us warmly and directed us to a guy they said was called Ivan.

“Hi ladies,” he greeted when as we reached him.

I wondered who the other lady was, then smiled when I realised he meant me before I frowned thinking he was having me on seeing as I wasn’t anywhere near looking like a lady let alone a girl.

“Hi,” we chorused.

“I’ve got a problem with my hair. It’s too short and I can’t wait for it to grow,” I explained.

“No problem. Take a seat and let’s get started,” he replied cheerfully.

Satisfied I was in safe hands Myra left to do her own hair while Ivan got to work on my extensions. He was really chatty telling me I had a lovely face and how pleased I was going to be when he finished. His manner was so reassuring I found myself readily telling all about myself and how I was supposed to go back to work that Monday and my fears that I’d look ghastly.

He understood and was sympathetic.

“Only the first few weeks are tough but if you get the right look at the beginning it’s easier. And you’re lucky, you have a lovely oval face and a pert nose so you don’t look like a guy,” he replied before giving me loads of handy advice about the look I should aim for and how to get it.

Steadily my hair lengthened as he deftly added the extensions to my existing mop. Before I knew it he was done and I was the proud owner of a blond mane that swept past my shoulders. It looked so nice!

But that was only the beginning; he started styling my hair after that. I was just thrilled and just managed not to fidget as he magicked my hair into something incredible.

“Voila!” he exclaimed, twirling my chair my chair in front of the mirror.

I gasped when I saw Charlene looking at me. She was awesome.

I was mesmerised, I had gorgeous blonde hair in a wavy style.

“Thank you,” I gushed, “it’s wonderful!” I exclaimed.

I searched the handbag I’d borrowed from Myra and gave him a twenty which he turned down under the pretext that he’d had fun working with me and only hoped I’d do well on Monday and that I’d become a regular.

I thanked him profusely and promised to come back.

He gave me instructions on how to maintain my hair and the stuff to use on it before steering me towards the nail parlour where I had a manicure and pedicure followed by a facial. I loved it and Myra was especially pleased,

“I told you you’d look great,” she purred.

I felt like a totally new woman when we left.

Pete was at a loss for words when we climbed into the car and Myra presented me as Charlene Cross.

“Wow, you are a girl,” he finally said.

I beamed at him.

We went shopping for work clothes, accessories and shoes after that. I discovered that ladies clothes are cheaper than men’s clothes but as you need more of them they became more expensive in the final reckoning. We bought nine different outfits to start with but Myra made sure they were all interchangeable so I would be able to mix and match them for variety. Getting me a handbag was a cinch as we were now on a roll and having a ridiculously good time buying things.

Finding me nice ladies shoes for my size seven and a half feet was easy and I was thankful for small mercies like not having size 11 or 12 feet.

Pete who was tagging along with us said as much while adding that he’d never known I harboured a passion for shopping as we hauled the bags to the car.

“That’s coz I hated buying guys clothes and it would make me depressed but now..,” I explained.

We had a cosy lunch with Pete picking up the tab saying he was worried about my financial future seeing as my shopaholic instincts had surfaced!

Unfazed Myra and I went on another round where we got earrings, hair clips and then casual clothes. We wound up our shopping spree because Pete was getting jittery about missing his football teams’ game and we drove home at top speed and I thanked Myra profusely but she told me it was nothing and she’d do it again any day.

But it was something. Myra will always have my gratitude for how she helped me take my first few steps as a woman and making the difference between me looking like a guy in drag and a decent looking girl. I will always be in debt to her and won’t ever forget her help.

I was all smiles when I floated into the living room and was greeted by Jo and Mum’s looks of stunned disbelief.

“Hello Mum, Jo,” I chirped loving how surprised they were with my appearance.

Rhys, my two year old nephew didn’t recognise me. I opened the shopping bags and handed him a teddy bear and a toy car which I’d bought for that exact moment. I’ll admit it was a bribe but I didn’t care.

He said, “Thank you,” but it came out as, “Tankyou,” as he smiled. It had worked.

I turned to Mum who wasn’t easily bought.

“Remember I told you. I’m getting my name changed next week. If you and Dad want to give me a second name I won’t mind,” I told her.

“What are you going to be called?” asked Jo curiously.

“Charlene,” I replied.

Jo gazed at my hair then the rest of me all the way to my now lovely feet. She looked impressed against her will but didn’t dare say so in front of Mum.

“So you’re going ahead with this?” said Mum.

It wasn’t really a question more an expression of frustration.

“Yes I am,” I said happily.

“What about your job? What will they say?” said Mum, trying and failing to reason with me.

“Nothing, I told Mr Smith on Monday and he said the agency had no problem with me being a woman so he gave me one week leave to fix everything,” I told her before picking up my things and going upstairs.

I went back downstairs to make myself a cup of tea and Jo found me there. Mum had taken Rhys and gone next door to chat with her old friend Mrs Dalny no doubt about me.

“Umm,” she began hesitantly, “where did you get your makeover?” she asked, curiosity overwhelming embarrassment.

I told her the place.

“How much did it cost?” she went on.

I couldn’t remember but said I thought it’d been worth it.

“Yes you look awfully nice,” she said warmly.

“Thanks,” I said with a big smile.

“I owe you an apology for not taking you seriously and thinking you’re crazy when you’re not. You wouldn’t be going through all this unless you really wanted it so I’m sorry,” she offered.

“That’s fine Jo,” was all I could say.

I was too happy to think up anything else.

“Charlene, Charlene,” she repeated, rolling around my name on her tongue, “it suits you,” she offered.

“I picked it when I was six and it’s sort of what I always thought I should have been called,” I replied.

“Six? So you thought you were a girl by then?” asked Jo amazed.

“Yes I knew it even before that when I started pre-school. I noticed that I preferred playing with the girls and playing house but not the games boys liked and I figured that I couldn’t be a boy and that I was supposed to be a girl. I told Mum and she said not to be silly but I still didn’t want to be a boy and being a child I thought some fairy godmother would help me out sort of like Cinderella. When I went to school all my friends were girls and my best friend was a girl called Ellen and she believed I wasn’t a boy either and we’d spend ages playing with her dolls or dressing up in her clothes or her sister’s. It didn’t change as I grew older instead it only became worse. You won’t believe how awful it feels to go through puberty as a boy when you think you you’re a girl and discover that you like guys but they’ll never like you and not know what to do about it. I think I’d have killed myself if it hadn’t been for Ellen being there for me. When she moved away I felt lonelier than ever and I honestly wished I was dead. I made friends with Pete and took my frustrations out on my books while trying to be a boy and forcing myself to forget how I felt. It worked for a while but deep down I knew I was lying to myself and I only wanted to be a girl more than ever.

The rest you know- I started drinking to ease the pain I felt and if I wasn’t drinking I was drowning myself in my work. My drinking spiralled out of control and Mum and Dad told me to get help. The psychologist told me I could either go on denying who I was and eventually kill myself or I could accept that I had a female brain and stop living a lie and I accepted it.

I don’t want to die or to go back to how I was 2 months ago and being a girl feels normal, it’s like I’ve left jail especially today,” I finished on a happy note.

“Oh my goodness, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry Charlene. I had no idea,” Jo apologized looking horrified at my life story.

I was touched, “Look it’s okay Jo,” I replied kindly, “my life’s back on track now so don’t worry about the past,” Jo nodded and offered to help me.

“If you need anything or you want to talk just say so,” I told her.

I would and asked her about hair products. Soon we were chatting away like old friends and I had the sister I’d longed for, my first ally at home.

Dad’s reaction to my new look didn’t show. He didn’t gasp, show surprise or say a word. He just took one look at me and went back to his paper but then again Dad had always been a man of few words and he probably guessed it wouldn’t make a difference if he criticised me. Good old Dad!

He preferred his peace and quiet to noisy arguments. Wills takes after Mum I suppose because when he came in the following day and saw me in a skirt with long hair totally changed from the last time he’d seen me he was aghast, “Charlie! What on earth’s gotten into you?” he demanded.

“It’s Charlene not Charlie and I told you I’m transgendered meaning I don’t want to be a guy,” I replied patiently.

“You mean to tell me you actually believe that bull your shrink gave you as the cause of your drinking?” he retorted.

“It’s not bull it’s the truth,” I answered calmly.

“Gosh, you need serious help! You, a woman? Lord help us,” he said which hurt but I didn’t let it show.

“Whatever. It’s my life so you can think whatever you want,” I replied indifferently before turning my attention back to my coffee and laptop.

Wills glared at me before shaking his head and leaving me to my devices. I was rather hurt by his attempt to ridicule me but I vowed not to let it get to me especially as I might get similar treatment at work.

To be continued.

Chapter three

I woke up pretty early on Monday morning bathed then spent close to an hour applying makeup and making sure my hair was up to scratch before carefully getting dressed in my new white blouse and grey ladies suit, checking my appearance in the mirror every few seconds until I was fully dressed.

When I’d stopped agonizing over my appearance and was satisfied I looked fine I took my laptop and placed it inside its case and packed my handbag remembering to put my compact and hair brush first.

I breathed deeply then went downstairs to find Mum already making my breakfast after she’d heard me puttering around as I got ready. Whatever Mum thought of my transition she wasn’t about to let me go off to work looking silly or even on an empty stomach which is why she’d gotten up early to check that I looked okay and to feed me.

Whatever I was I knew I was still her baby and would be cared for as long as she was there. I had my breakfast while Mum scanned me from head to toe checking if I’d overlooked anything. Then she came over and touched my blouse collar which I’d already checked and knew to be okay but I thanked her knowing she was just doing what came naturally to her looking out for me.

“Your father and I haven’t decided on your name yet. We’d like a few more days dear,” she said.

I wondered if they were stalling but since they seemed to be thinking about it I decided to a few more days wouldn’t hurt.

“That’s fine but I’d like to see the solicitors before Friday,” I replied.

“Don’t you think you’re doing all this a little too fast? What if you change your mind later on but you’ve gone too far?” asked Mum not wanting to waste a chance to bring me to my senses with a good argument.

“Trust me I’ve put a lot thought into this, it’s not something I took a fancy to overnight. I’ve known I wasn’t a man for ages and it’s been tearing me apart. This is my chance to make peace with myself and I won’t let it slip past neither will I change my mind,” I remarked.

Mum sighed then asked if I needed a ride to work. I said no I’d take the Tube before I stood up and kissed her goodbye.

“Good luck,” she said which warmed my nervous soul.

I left the house with a spring in my step knowing Mum cared made life so much more bearable.

My journey to the station took a lot longer than usual thanks to my shoes which I hadn’t gotten used to but as I’d woken up early I had lots of time to spare. I hoped my gait didn’t look awkward then remembered one of Pete’s ex-girlfriends had told me I walked like a woman and that eased my anxieties a bit and I was much more relaxed when I reached the station. The place was already full of early morning commuters, which was surprising seeing as the streets had been deserted.

However, no one gave me a second glance to my relief and five minutes later I’d boarded a train bound for the City. My heart rate rose in tandem with every stop the train made as I realized I was getting closer to my workplace. Finally the train rattled to my stop and somehow I found the nerve to get out, get on the escalator and walk out of the station.

I deliberately walked the two blocks to the advertising agency I was employed at very slowly with my heart pounding away at an ever increasing rate.

What were people going to say? I asked myself.

What have I gotten myself into? I thought morbidly and I briefly thought of going back home but then wondered what Mum would say.

“I told you so,” her voice echoed in my head and that was more unbearable than whatever lay in store for me at work.

On reaching my destination I stood outside the building for a full minute taking a few deep breaths to calm myself before taking the plunge into the unknown.

Once inside the first thing to do was to get past the security guy who sat by the reception and kept the visitors log book. I walked past and he touched his cap to me. I smiled and went to the lifts where to my dismay there was already a crowd waiting. None of them took note of me as they were all intent on getting into the next lift. I stood up back a fraction until the crowd thinned by which time I was ready to get into the next available lift. I recognized a few faces from the other firms once we were inside and they recognized me too and used the mirrors to stare.

I looked at the door wishing the elevator would go straight to the 12th floor so I could stop being goggled at like a zoo creature. Finally after what seemed like an eternity we finally reached my floor and I made my way out, thankful for my release, though I could feel the eyes of my fellow passengers boring into me as the lift closed.

I wondered what was being said about me as I walked past the doors of my workplace and to the reception where Beth the receptionist was seated.

“Hi,” I began feeling my workmates merited greetings at the very least as I’d spend 8 or more hours in their company unlike the people in the other firms who I needn’t really worry about.

“Hi,” replied Beth, “had a nice break?” she said in a friendly tone and acting like me being a woman was of no concern although I thought she was having a hard time hiding her surprise at everything.

“Oh it was okay,” I replied.

“Mr Smith asked that you go straight into his office when you come in,” she informed me.

Thankfully the rest of the office was yet to arrive and I was spared the necessity of talking to people and ignoring their stares. I went to my cubicle and unpacked my briefcase before going to see the boss. His secretary wasn’t in as well so I went directly into his office and was admitted after one knock.

“Morning sir,” I said upon entering.

He smiled and said, “Good morning. How are you?” while motioning for me to sit down.

“I’m fine thank you,” I answered feeling less nervous.

“Excellent. Well Charlene I’m glad you’re back. I trust by your appearance your transition has gone smoothly?” he asked.

I nodded, “Yes sir it’s going well so far,” I told him.

“Good, good. I’ve kept my end of the bargain too. Everyone’s been informed of the changes in your life and they’ve been briefed on your name and to refer to you properly. I don’t expect any problems and I hope things will go smoothly. You’ve also got a personal bathroom, here’s the key. It’s the spare one just down the passage from the reception,” he advised.

“Thank you sir for all the trouble you’ve taken,” I replied picking up the key.

“Don’t mention. Just glad I could help,” said Mr Smith warmly.

He was a great boss just as I’d always thought. We moved on to my work, he gave me two new accounts to see to and told me I’d be working with Ridwan and Cathy and that Richard (who incidentally was the office’s new drinking champion after my abdication and a likeable fella) and John would be needing my help with the accounts I’d given up on my leave as they’d taken them over in my absence.

We didn’t want to unsettle the existing clients with my transition which is why I’d be getting brand new accounts to handle which was fine by me although my professional pride was a bit nettled that I’d had to give up a brilliant campaign for which I might not get the credit. We discussed a few technical things before I took my leave and headed back to my office deep in thought about my assignment and forgetting all my worries about how the others would treat me as well forgetting the sensation of wearing different clothes.

I got down to work and did some intense brainstorming to the extent of becoming extremely oblivious to my surroundings so much so that I didn’t notice the office filling up and the noise level rising until Richard popped his head in and said,

“Eh, hi. Alright if disturb you?” before walking in without waiting for a reply.

“Hi Richie how can I help you?” I replied as he appraised my appearance.

“So this is the new you, new voice and name huh?” he asked lightly.

I nodded, “Yes new and improved,” I joked making him chuckle.

‘New and improved’ was the phrase some of our customers adored but it was an oxymoron seeing as something improved couldn’t really be new. Still the cliché persisted and was a sort of standing joke between us.

“I don’t mind telling you I was shocked when Smithy told us about you. I wondered if you’d lost it,” admitted Richard, “but then again I know you to be a careful, thoughtful person so you’d obviously worried yourself sick till you made up your mind about it. So good luck, I hope everything works out for you,” he offered.

“Thanks,” I said meekly, somewhat taken aback by his respect for my choice.

Gosh, I wished everyone would take a cue from him and realise I wasn’t a child making half- baked decisions without weighing the pros and cons. I’d done that and I knew I was my own worst critic but I’d still come to the conclusion that being a woman was the way to go and it bothered me that people couldn’t respect my informed choice as an adult to run my life as I wanted.

After Richie’s show of confidence we talked about the accounts he’d taken over I gave him advice on how to run them and everything before we were satisfied that there’d be no problem and he left and I returned to my work but I couldn’t concentrate and longed for a cup of the wonderful coffee our firm supplied us with.

That meant taking a stroll to the communal coffee machine and subjecting me to that fickle mistress known as public opinion and the stares that went with it, a rather unpleasant prospect for which there was no solution except to go through with it.

Anyway postponing it would only pique their curiosity. I sighed, picked up my mug and did what had to be done. The instant I appeared in the open plan office the chatter lessened as everyone paused what they were doing to take a good, hard look at me.

Acting supremely unaffected I made my way to the coffee stand where I found Raisa and Sheryl gawking but they smiled quickly and gave me over friendly greetings and I wasn’t sure if they were being friendly or as I suspected they were covering the fact that they’d just been talking about me minutes before being the gossips they were and me being the topic of the day or was I getting paranoid?

Perhaps I should have twirled, smiled and said, “You like?”

I couldn’t tell but I couldn’t do anything about it except sticking it out and staying positive or that’s what I tried to say to myself as I walked back to my cubicle and heard the office start returning to life and the buzzing started. I knew I’d be getting discussed even as I sat down as my appearance had guaranteed it. I shrugged it off and tried my best to do my work.

Later I had to call Ridwan and Cathy so we could begin our assignment. Ridwan couldn’t hide the look of utter disgust that showed on his face when we made eye contact. I was appalled and wondered how on earth I was supposed to work with him when he seemed to loathe me for being transgendered.

I hid my disenchantment behind a professional countenance and Cathy looked the same and I thought, ‘At least I’ll get something done with her. A neutral person is fine with me.’

Nobody addressed each other by name; we just did our job ignoring our private thoughts about each other while working out proposals for the client’s campaign. When they’d gone I found myself typing into my journal on my laptop-

“Being a woman is going to make my office life unpleasant but who cares, I am what I am and I love it and if I’m happy with myself which I am what everybody thinks shouldn’t count. I don’t need anyone’s approval to be happy nor am I going to ask for it. If they don’t like me then tough luck for them, they have no idea what their missing.”

The rest of the day was neither good nor bad but somewhere in between. Every time I went into the outer office (three or four times) I was greeted by the same looks as before. Nobody talked to me unless it concerned work and that was fine by me as it meant no one was going to ask me about my sanity or criticise me (I’m being silly here. No one would say anything because they’d been told not to question or hound me). Besides I hadn’t expected to be given hugs and kisses on arrival or to be harassed either. All I wanted was to get on with my job. Of course I expected a lot more from my family even though I didn’t their approval but their love which is the one thing I did worry about.

I’d never wanted that at work. Anyway I stayed on late as per habit and for the sake of avoiding all those people staring at me at knock off time. It was only when Richie popped in and asked me for a drink that I left my work.

“Hey Charlene, still in, fancy a drink?” he asked.

The most decent guy in the office I thought as I replied, “I’m about to go but I don’t drink alcohol anymore. I quit a while back,” I said.

“Oh how about dinner then I know this great place where I can go without a reservation,” he offered.

“Sounds fine I’ll just clear up,” I replied warmly.

Richie was treating me just like he’d always did but was using my proper name and I was really grateful for that. Maybe there was hope for this firm yet.

To be continued.

Chapter Four

“Edith he is really serious about becoming a girl and if there’s anything I know about Charlie it’s that if he really wants something and had set his heart on it he’ll get it and he is really determined and won’t heed a thing we say,” Mum declared to her pal, Edith Dalny early that evening.

“But why Maggie, he’s got everything he could wish for, a nice job he likes and good looks. I just don’t get it,” replied Mrs Dalny, shaking her head.

“I don’t understand him either. He told us he hated being a man, that’s why he drank so much and that he couldn’t go on living a lie. I suspect he might have a point. He once told me he was a girl when he was a wee child and he always preferred playing with girls, you remember that friend of his that sweet girl, Ellen, they were inseparable until she moved away. He always avoided playing boys games and I thought it was a phase but now I’m so confused,” answered Mum unhappily.

“Now he speaks like a girl all the time, got his hair done, wears makeup and women’s clothes and went to work dressed as a woman and calls himself Charlene,” went on Mum, “I just don’t know what to do with him at all,” she finished in a tired voice.

“So how was your first day?” Richie asked, after we’d left the office and were making our way to the restaurant.

“Sierra Square, Double Delta,” I told him with a smile., being a Tom Clancy addict like me he knew what it meant.

“S2D2. Same shit, dreadful day,” he said. “That bad, don’t worry it’ll get better,” he consoled.

We had a nice dinner, talking shop all the while and I was glad for a pleasant end to a not so pleasant day.

Later that week I decided that Ridwan was a bastard and slimy lowlife, no doubt he had similar opinions about me and while not expressing them verbally his body language told me as much.

Why did I come to such a conclusion you might ask? Well it’s because we clashing with each other on our joint assignment and I felt he was trying to undermine everything I was trying to do and to frustrate me at every turn for no reason except that I was transgendered. I longed to be finished with the account so I’d be rid of him.

Meanwhile I’d also begun classifying my colleagues into three groups depending on how I thought they were acting and taking my transition. The first group I labelled ‘Friends’, it had only one member, Richie who was the only person I could really talk to unguardedly. Next up were the ‘Neutrals’ which consisted of mainly the ladies in the office and a few guys who had no qualms with me being a woman of if they did it didn’t show. I could count on them to act as the pro’s they were and I could say a word or to two to them. the last group I dubbed, ‘Enemies’ and it definitely included Ridwan and a few other guys who seemed to take my transition as a personal insult to them and I dealt with them in two ways. Avoidance where possible and by being at my very best and highly professional if I had to interact with them.

Of course I tried to keep my interaction to a bare minimum. In the meantime I’d visited a solicitor to get my name changed and sort out the legal side of my transition.

Mum and Dad had chosen a second name for me despite their feelings about what I was doing.

“Dad and I found a name for you. We thought May would do as that’s what we’d wanted to call you if you’d been born a girl,” my mother told me.

I was pleasantly surprised at their co-operation and at the news that I’d have been known as May had I been born ‘ok’.

“May,” I murmur to myself, “it sounds nice,” I concluded.

It took Pete to show me the humorous side of my full moniker. When I told him name he said,

“Okay, you may cross,” he teased.

“Cross what?” said Myra puzzled.

“Oh don’t be silly,” I told him.

“Charlene May Cross but don’t cross her if you know what’s good for you,” continued Pete happily making us all chuckle at his silliness.

That Friday I went to the solicitors and had my name changed by deed poll from Charles Cross to Charlene May Cross and to celebrate I had dinner with Pete and Myra. I was really happy I’d taken this massive step of doing away with a name I’d never liked or accepted in favour of my true title, the one I’d always longed to be called by- Charlene.

My dream was unfolding slowly and nothing from Ridwan, Wills, Mum and Dad or any other obstacles was going to stop me from living it.

I had to live for at least one month as a woman before I could qualify for hormones and it felt like an eternity to me. Adjusting to living as a woman was tough at first especially with a curve less body. Somehow I got through that month and I learnt invaluable lessons along the way not least of all, that image is everything.

This meant I began spending a lot more time on my appearance than before because women are judged more on how they look than anything else. I’d spend my spare time experimenting with makeup, which is almost routine for adolescent girls but wasn’t for me as I hadn’t done it in nearly eight years and it was like starting from scratch even with tips from Myra.

Still it was fun and it didn’t take long for me to get the hang of it. I noticed that when I made up my face my confidence rose exponentially and I could face anything, it was like having my own suit of armour. I also found that I was starting to spend a lot more time checking out clothes and thinking if they’d go well with this or match with that as well as analysing other girl’s outfits and critiquing them based on my own taste.

Like a good friend Pete accompanied me to the hospital for my appointment with the endocrinologist. I was so excited and I think I wouldn't have been able to make it there on my own. Besides Pete had a car and I didn’t savour the journey by tube so he took me.

There were other transgendered people when we got there and I think Pete was slightly disconcerted by their presence though he said nothing. Later he told me it was because all the girls there didn’t look like guys, which wasn’t how he expected transsexuals to look.

“Is that how you think of me? Do I look l like a guy?” I asked him, taken aback by his views.

“No you don’t. You’re rather good looking. You always looked like a woman anyway so it’s normal for you,” he replied in a rather matter-of —fact tone.

“Oh, then what do you mean?” I enquired.

“I meant you could pick up any of these girls in a bar, they don’t look like they were ever guys,” explained Pete.

I sighed, “That’s the whole point. No woman wants to look like a man at all so they’ll do anything to look good, besides it’s a confidence booster to look pretty okay. They aren’t guys and they don’t want to be taken for guys so they’re not supposed to look like they were guys,” I told him.

“Amazing isn’t it,” he said with a smile.

When I got my pills I immediately popped one and Pete looked at me expectantly. It was like he expected me to grow boobs instantly.

“Well,” he said, watching me.

“Well what,” I retorted.

“Feel any different,” he replied.

“I’m excited but that’s coz I finally got them. It’s got a sweet taste, I think that’s because I really want it but there’s no magic yet,” I said, “ask me in a week. The doctor said I’ll be able to see something then,” I added.

“What’s gonna happen then?” he queried interestedly.

“Well my skin will begin to get a lot softer and then in time I’ll get real breasts, hips. Basically I’ll turn into a woman and I can’t wait!” I said excitedly.

“Now I’m sure you were never a guy,” said Pete sardonically.

“Why?” I replied.

“Just the way you’re acting. If you were a man getting boobs would scare you,” he said with a smile.

I smiled back.

Two months passed and I realized I was happy. I spent nearly every evening at home with Mum and Dad watching the telly, reading or surfing the net. I discovered transgender fiction and it didn’t take long before I was hooked on Bigcloset and Sapphire’s Place and the myriad of tales they contained.

I had developed a nice bust though it was small I loved showing it off when I was at home much to Wills chagrin. My body was changing rapidly thanks to the hormones, my bum got bigger as did my thighs and hips. I lost my abs and got toned tummy in their stead while my waist became smaller. My skin was softer than before and I lost that hardness guys have as the adipose tissue under my skin was increased by the action of the oestrogen. My hair seemed to grow faster while bodily hair growth which wasn’t much in the first place seemed to slow down to nothing.

Getting boobs was the best part, it was so exciting to have them and they couldn’t grow fast enough for me. When I was in bed I’d find myself gently touching the soft round mounds feeling their gentle curve and getting this feeling of contentment that I was a girl at last.

My face changed slightly as more fat was deposited on my cheeks, softening my cheekbones and my jaw.

Jo was the first to tell me how beautiful I looked.

“You are lovely Charlene and your complexion is to die for,” she gushed one Saturday when I caught her eyeing me weirdly and I’d asked what the matter was.’

I felt my pride soar because I hadn't used any makeup that morning. My mother said nothing, not wanting to encourage me but I knew Dad and her where happy at least with the fact I was retaking control of my life. I hadn’t touched alcohol in six months, had just enrolled for another qualification and it was patently clear I wasn’t the same binger I’d been.

They were beginning to believe my drinking might have been caused by my desire to be a woman after all though this didn’t mean they accepted the new me.

Pete was fascinated by the changes in my appearance.

“You know I can hardly believe you’re the one formerly known as Charlie,” he said one evening, you don’t drink, wear lipstick and high heels and have morphed into a woman.”

I pulled my tongue at him though I loved hearing how much I’d changed.

“Thanks man that’s a big compliment,” I said happily.

“How are the hormones going?” he asked.

“Great! I’m calmer now, I don’t get stupid hard-ons anymore and I feel normal. I’ve got breasts and it feels wonderful. My skins so sensitive now,” I said leaving out the bit about the wobbly bits on my thighs and bum that was a bit personal.

To be continued.

Chapter Five

Wills persisted in his denial of my true identity. He took every opportunity to remind me and everyone that in his eyes I was not a woman. On one occasion Rhys forgot his teddy at our place and I had to take it Will and Jo’s. Wills answered the door and let me in.

“Who is it darling?” enquired Jo from the living room where they were entertaining some guests.

“It’s my brother,” replied Wills out loud as we reached the entrance to that room.

Everyone looked up to see and as you guess they were disconcerted to see a woman with Wills. Hot with embarrassment mingled with anger I turned on my heel and left swearing not to set foot there again.

There was no adjustment in the climate at work, I still felt like a pariah there except with Richie who treated me as if nothing had changed. The others were all professional in their conduct towards me which was fine by me because it made work tolerable. Part of me did long for the camaraderie everyone else seemed to share but it wasn’t forthcoming nor was I willing to throw myself out on a limb at people so they could like me that just wasn’t my style.

The only place where I was treated like a friend, woman and a normal person was at Pete and Myra’s. They accepted me for whom I was, never gave me queer looks or glared at me. We were frank and totally free in each other’s company and I never felt like I was forcing myself on them. I also attended a transgender support group. This is how I met a girl named Claire with whom I quickly became friends. She was the first person who completely understood my need to be a woman because she was going through the same thing.

I could tell her about everything- my family’s attitude, work and my colleagues, hormones, my childhood- she understood. We had similar middle-class backgrounds. She’d come out at around the same time as I had. Unlike me, her family had completely disowned her.

“They never owned me anyway!” was her cheerful take on this.

She also worked in a far worse environment than me, an auto clinic though you’d never guess she was a mechanic by looking at her. All her colleagues were chauvinistic men, making it doubly hard for, being a transsexual woman. Claire told me she was retraining to become a draughtsperson going to night school 3 times a week. Character wise I can only describe her as charming, kind, sincere and cheerful. At 5ft 6 with a round, pretty face she was clearly going to be pear shaped by the time she got her op. her hair was medium length for work purposes and she was a brunette whereas I was the slender blonde, an inch taller and just as determined to live my life as a woman. We did lots of things together, like going shopping, giving each other moral support and bashing the bad guys like Ridwan when we felt wronged by them!

My relationship with my brother reached breaking point six months after I began my transition when Wills finally let loose and expressed his feelings for the entire family to hear.

Wills invariably called me Charlie just to show how much he disagreed with my decision. He was the only one in the family who did so, to Jo I was Charlene, Mum occasionally called me Charlene but never Charlie, she used my childhood nickname or endearments ditto with Dad.

I hated this and one day I just burst out at Wills when he referred to me as Charlie.

“Charlie get a haircut mate, you look like a hippie,” he mocked me one morning when he saw me with rollers in my hair. Such barbs were common from him and I’d learnt to ignore but that day I decided enough was enough.

“Why don’t you go to hell, this is my life not yours and my name is Charlene,” I told him strongly.

That really got him going.

“S’far as I know you’re Charlie you twit!” he responded.

“Oh, so now I’m a twit because I don’t want to be a man, has it ever crossed your mind that I’m doing this because it means something to me? No of course not, you’re dumb to ever figure that out,” I remarked.

I had always been the cleverer child and telling Wills that had always infuriated him.

“Dumb? You’re insane and you’re a huge embarrassment and a total disgrace to this family with your stupid cross-dressing you filthy drag-queen!”

That hurt and Mum and Jo gasped.

“William,” said Dad warningly, “that’s enough.”

Wills was livid.

“No Dad it’s got to be said. Charlie you are flaming insane you hear! You will never be a woman, go and get help and while you’re at it stay away from my son before you infect him with your damned disease. You’re a disgrace you hear Charlie? An effing disgrace,” Wills yelled as tears formed in my eyes.

“WILLIAM!” said Dad and Jo sternly.

I turned and fled to my room, white hot tears burning my cheeks. I heard the door slam, signalling Wills departure.

Blinded by tears I locked my door and slumped to the floor and allowed myself to cry my heart out, completely miserable. How could Wills say all that awful stuff to me especially the part about Rhys? Being transsexual was something I would never, ever want to wish on anyone let alone the nephew I loved so much.

I cried for what seemed like hours reliving every insult that had been flung at me wondering why my only sibling could be so hateful. He didn’t want me as his sister which meant he didn’t want me at all since I could never be his brother. Mum came and knocked but I ignored her, she and everyone else probably agreed with Wills in private.

To them I was some crazy fool. He’d spoken for them I thought. No one cares about my happiness only the image of the family. If that was the case I wasn’t going to stay where I was unwelcome

Over the next few weeks I withdrew. I stopped talking to my parents except in greeting and purposefully stayed out late after work so I could be alone and arrive home when they’d fallen asleep. I’d leave early before Mum awoke just to avoid her. I stayed away from Jo and Rhys when they were downstairs and went out on weekends sometimes to Pete’s or to play the tourist around London.

I skipped meals at home though Mum always left me some preferring to eat in restaurants. Since I was an embarrassment I couldn’t buy Mum groceries because I was so filthy I might spread my disease. I’d leave cash in an envelope addressed to her so she could the shopping herself. I became a stranger in my own home hiding out in my room and slowly packing my things for a move away from there. I’d already started looking for a place of my own and had sounded out Claire, Pete and Myra on keeping an ear out for decent apartments for me. Wills hardly came over anymore and when he did I completely ignored him just like he ignored me.

Clearly no one regretted his outburst though Mum looked at me worriedly whenever she saw me. I made sure she had no chance of talking to me by never spending more than two minutes in her or Dad’s presence.

I was miserable but hid it behind the façade of a carefully made up face. Pete and Myra saw right through it though and they wanted me to take a weekend in the country to recharge and cheer me up after the incident with my brother.

I spent a glorious weekend with two close friends who understood me or at least tried to though I realised I missed Rhys badly. The Wiltshire country side would have been just the place for my rambunctious nephew and thinking this dampened my spirits. Noticing this Myra took my hand and suggested a short walk for the two of us.

“Let me guess you’re thinking about what your brother said?” she asked me.

I nodded and my eyes smarted.

“Hey it’s okay Charlene,” consoled Myra before embracing me.

“You’re a woman honey. That’s you, don’t let anybody demean you luv,” said Myra as tears streamed down my face.

“They all hate me, they don’t care how I feel, it’s like they don’t want me,” I sobbed.

Myra placed my head on my shoulder and I cried onto it as she comforted me.

To be continued

By Sydney Moya

 ©2012

Chapter Six

“How was your weekend?” asked Mum gently when I got back on Sunday evening.

“Fine,” I said coldly.

It hadn’t been fine, I’d felt very sad that I was happiest away from home.

“Oh,” said Mum with a start seeing I was still in a bad mood. I allowed her to kiss me before I took my things and headed to my room.

“Aren’t you going to greet your father?” asked Mum expectantly.

I didn’t reply. I just went to the living room and said, “Hello Dad,” in an empty voice.

“Hello,” the reply came.

Duty done I continued to my destination.

“A friend of yours called. Her name is Claire, she said you should call her back, it’s about your apartment,” said Mum as I passed the phone in the passage.

“Oh, thanks then,” I replied as if the news was of no consequence though my spirits lifted.

“Charlene you’re not moving out, are you?” said Mum in concern.

“Yes I am,” I replied, “seeing as I’m not wanted here. I might infect you with my madness,” I said vehemently.

Mum looked like I’d whipped her.

“Don’t go, not like this!” she pleaded.

“Why not,” I replied my voice cracking, “I’m a disgrace to all of you. I embarrass you and Dad and Wills. None of you cares about how I feel. You want me to be something I’m not, something that’ll kill me. I’m trying to pick up my broken life and achieve my dream but you’d rather I stayed a drunk, ’’ I accused as I broke down.

“No!” said Mum in an anguished voice.

“YES! I’m a woman but none of you can accept it, you can’t even use the name I want to be called by. I may be many things but I’m not thick, I can tell where I’m not wanted. It’s amazing how much the people I care for the most are the ones who don’t give a damn while at work even my enemies have to get to grips with me being like this,” I finished, crying.

“Charlene I do love you,” said Mum gently before taking me into her arms and comforting me.

I clung to her and cried like a baby.

“How could Wills say all th-that?” I sobbed, “I love him and Rhys so much. D-do y you think I would want Rhys to g-go through w-what I have?” I stuttered.

My mother just held me and hushed me, “My poor baby, let it out honey,” she said softly as she embraced me.

I cried for a long time, letting out all the pent up emotions I had. Dad had risen at the noise and now stood watching for a while. Then unnoticed he took his coat and went out for a walk.

“Okay luv, you and I are going to have a wee chat, all right?” said Mum when I finally calmed down.

She led me to the sitting room, her arm around my waist and mine around hers. She then sat me down on a sofa before sitting down herself. I poured out my heart out to her in a way I’d never done before. I told her about having always felt I’d been born into the wrong body, how from childhood I’d known I ought to have been a girl, how I’d confided in Ellen and she’d believed me, preferring girls to boys as friends, dressing up in Ellen’s clothes and loving it, playing with her make-up, loathing my body even before puberty and how that hatred and shame grew as I got older, finding out I was attracted to boys but not as a boy and I had to hide it and try to fit in when Ellen left by trying to suppress who I was and how it depressed me leading me to turn to alcohol for comfort since I was afraid of telling anyone my feelings.

I told her how booze became my master until I realized I was on the verge of ruining my life. I told her about the psychologist, how I cried when she confirmed I was a girl, telling Pete, my voice lessons, my workmates and how they treated me, Wills and Jo’s different attitudes, Myra’s help and friendship, Claire, my hormones and what they were doing to me and how much I loved it.

When I was finished Mum also had tears in her eyes but she hugged me fiercely.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been there for you, I didn’t understand,” she apologized.

“Do you understand now?” I asked her.

“Yes I do. You’re my little girl,” said Mum warmly, “let’s make a fresh start,” she offered.

I couldn’t believe it, “Really?”

Mum nodded, “Yes I’ve always wanted a daughter,” she said with a smile.

I threw my arms around her, overjoyed, “Mum you’re wonderful. I love you,” I told her, meaning it with all my heart.

“I love you too Charlene,”” was Mum’s reply accompanied by a kiss on my forehead, “You’re such a beauty,” she said in genuine admiration.

“Thanks Mum,” I said to her

In a sense that evening was the start of a new chapter in my relationship with my mother. I told her what I hoped to do in future and she listened, seeing me in a new light. We became friends when she called me her daughter. Dad found us talking over tea, my tears all gone and replaced by a happy smile. He left us in peace understanding something had changed between Mum and me.

“Mum I’m going to stay because I don’t want to live alone and I love it here, it’s my home,” I told her.

“You’re right. This is your home and you cannot go because you feel unwanted. I can see I’m to blame for not trying to understand you. You have my support from today,” said Mum.

Making peace with my mother changed the atmosphere at home considerably. My mother went out of her way to do things for me, to talk to me and I did my best to meet her half way. I stopped working late and made sure I was home in time for dinner, watched the telly with my parents. I resumed helping with the cooking if I was in early something I’d abandoned ages ago and I loved it, so did Mum. We bonded best in the kitchen as she loved cooking as much as I did, we talked more easily in there and slowly Mum began discovering who I was- her adult daughter.

Though Mum and I had accepted that we needed each other and loved each other more than we differed, it wasn’t the same with my brother. I was still upset about what he’d said and it made me avoid him and his family during the time I spent working things out with Mum. They helped by not coming as much but I knew we couldn’t avoid each other forever.

“Mum I’m going to get my hair done,” I said, “I’ll be back in a ...oh hi Jo,” I said quickly as I walked into the kitchen before pausing at the sight of my sister in law

“Hi Charlene, how are you? I hardly see you anymore,” replied Jo.

I felt tears sting my eyes but said nothing. Rhys waddled towards me and hugged my legs.

“Auntie,” he said endearingly.

I looked down at him.

“Hi baby,” I said gently. I didn’t touch him though, remembering Wills warning.

“Please pick him up he’s missed you so much,” said Jo gently.

I wanted to but the memory of Wills words was still sharp. I just looked at Jo and Mum feeling close to losing it.

“I’m sorry Charlene, what Wills said was uncalled for and I definitely don’t agree. Rhys is my son and I don’t want you to exclude him from your life,” said Jo.

“Aunt Charlene,” Rhys remarked, still holding onto my legs and tugging my heartstrings.

I couldn’t resist, I picked him up and hugged him while I cried.

“Don’t cry Auntie,” my nephew said, putting his chubby hand to my cheek.

I was so touched I tried to stop crying and grin as Mum and Jo smiled.

I kissed Rhys before handing him back to Jo but Rhys refused and started crying.

“He wants you,” said Jo with a smile.

“I can’t, I have to go,” I replied.

“Tell you what, why don’t I come with you? That way you can stay with him and show me that salon of yours,” suggested Jo.

Every bone in me said no, Wills told me to stay away from his son, there’s enough bad blood between us and I don’t want to worsen it I thought.

“Come on girl,” pleaded Jo.

I’d missed chatting to Jo a lot; she’d always been an understanding person so how could I refuse?

“’Kay we’ll go together,” I agreed.

“Thanks,” replied Jo.

“Stay here with your auntie and granny luv, Mummy will be back soon,” Jo cooed to her son before she made her way out to go and change.

I looked at Mum while Rhys pulled my hair.

“Jo’s going to get me into trouble with Wills,” I said quietly.

“Don’t be silly,” replied Mum.

“He made it clear I was to stay away from Rhys,” I went on.

“That was a stupid thing for him to say. Your father and I did have a word with him about it that day. Jo too, if anything happened to him and Jo who do they think would look after Rhys like their own?” she asked.

“You and Dad would,” I said quietly.

“Stu and I won’t be here forever dear and the fact is you are Rhys aunt and what he said hurt all of us. Have fun with Jo okay and don’t reject Rhys he’s just a baby,” said Mum gently.

I reached for her and she embraced me and Rhys.

“What have you been up to these past weeks?” asked Jo when we were in the bus.

“I was hiding; Wills really hurt me that day. I just needed to be away from everyone so I stayed away from everyone so I stayed late at work and left early in the morning, I was planning on moving out,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry he said that and that no one spoke out against it. I didn’t agree with Wills,” said my sister-in-law.

“I wanted to talk to you but you were never there,” she explained while I cuddled Rhys absently.

“I’m sorry I avoided you I just don’t want to put you and Wills into conflict. If he won’t accept me fine, don’t give him a hard time because of me. He said I should avoid Rhys which hurt but I won’t go against him if that’s what he wants,” I replied.

“Charlene he didn’t mean that,” said Jo desperately.

“What did he mean? Look when Rhys grows up and ever behaves in any strange way it’ll be my fault which is what Wills meant right? I’m some filthy drag queen in his eyes,” I said despondently.

Jo sighed helplessly.

“So you’re going to avoid Rhys and move away because of that?” she asked me.

“I’m not moving out of my home. Mum and I have worked things out, she doesn’t think I’m a disgrace and she wants me to stay as long as I please,” I replied deliberately avoiding the first part of the question.

Jo said nothing and I took advantage of this to turn our conversation to more trivial issues.

to be continued

By Sydney Moya

 ©2013

Chapter Seven

I had Dad’s silent but clear acceptance Mum’s and Jo’s full support. All of them knew my decision and respected it. Wills on the other hand remained against me being a woman and our relationship turned frigid.

We didn’t talk to each other anymore, if he appeared at home I usually left and found somewhere else to go or something else to do that did not involve being around. I didn’t venture to his house but couldn’t maintain my avoidance of Rhys since he was so irresistible and I loved him so much.

Jo and I remained excellent friends and if Wills disapproved he never said. I had the whole family on my side except Wills and I didn’t care or least began persuading myself to that effect. Naturally our mother was concerned about this but could not talk to either of us since we were so set in our beliefs. I had always looked up to my brother but now my view of him had been dimmed, he’d let me down and kicked me when I needed him.

I could never forget his harsh words to me. I wondered what makes men feel threatened by transsexual women.

Is it because they harbour hidden desires to be female too and resent them for accepting theirs or do we make them vulnerable since their world view of masculine superiority is slapped in the face by us telling them being a guy isn’t as wonderful as they make out to be.

I will never understand it. Wills had known me forever, he knew I’d been feminine from day one, he’d been worried about my serious drinking problem but he’d never disliked me for it. Now you could feel the contempt he had for me because I was a woman. I hadn’t changed in character, I was still the same person on the inside only I was happier, stable and a teetotaller and he didn’t like that because it came packaged in a dress, long hair, lipstick and high heels. He wanted me to get help and I got it yet he hated the results.

What a hypocrite! I told myself.

Mum was at my side when I had my boob job nine months into my transition. She was holding my hand and was the first person I saw when I woke up. My recovery was uncomfortable to say the least but Mum was there with compresses and gentle reassurances which only strengthened our bond.

“I know you’re sore but I’ll take you shopping for those low cut tops girls your age seem to love so much,” she told me one night a few days after my return from the clinic as she tended to me.

The pain was worth it though as I was really pleased with my bust after I recovered. I was now a 38C and I felt super gorgeous and proud of myself. I didn’t have to put up with the prosthetics anymore which was a relief as they’d made me feel like a fake. I’d longed to have a normal bust for years and I couldn’t wait for summer so I could wear revealing tops!

Having seen the light, my mother treated me more like her daughter than ever before. On one outing together with Jo and Rhys she referred to me as her daughter when she met old acquaintances. It’s funny what gender does to peoples thinking, now that she saw me as a girl she was assigning me more housework, I realised I was doing the cooking more frequently, along with the dishes and some of the vacuuming on weekends. Mum became loathe to let me handle big loads, when she wanted to get a large box with old things downstairs she called Wills over to help Dad lug it downstairs.

Wills came over, did it and said nothing, the next time the kitchen sink wouldn’t drain and some bathroom tiles where coming unstuck she called on Will once more.

“Can’t Charlie do it?” he asked exasperatedly.

“William,” said Mum quietly.

Wills came over and did the DIY job for her though he muttered something about me being unable to do it because, “Charlie’s long nails would get damaged I suppose,” in a voice loud enough for me to overhear.

I kept my cool and ignored him knowing he was baiting me. Afterwards I told Mum, “If you want something fixed around here don’t call Wills over just tell and I’ll get somebody to do it,”

“Charlene you can’t waste money like that,” my mother replied.

“Mum I heard him he’s itching for a row with me. I don’t want that. Besides it’s my money I’ll be wasting but it’ll give me peace of mind knowing Wills won’t have a leg to stand on,” I replied.

Mum sighed; she hated seeing her children in bad books with one another.

“Don’t worry Mum he’ll come around soon,” I told her gently.

“I hope so,” she murmured.

Wills and I were still not talking and my words were just wishful thinking judging by the way he looked at me after my op though he said nothing.

“The way he looks at me, so disparagingly,” I explained to Claire.

“He sounds like my brother except he threatened to beat me up when I told him I wasn’t a guy,” replied Claire, “you’re so lucky your mum understands how you feel, mine wouldn’t listen to me,” she added.

“Do you miss your family?” I asked.

“Sometimes but they made it abundantly clear I was unwelcome if I wasn’t a woman. It doesn’t matter anymore, I’ve had a great nine months and I’m very happy now,” she replied calmly.

I admired her; she was so independent at 20.

“If you met them in the street what would you do?” I asked her.

“Ignore them I guess. As far as their concerned Claire McCaskill doesn’t exist and I’m not their son,” she replied.

“Um Claire when is your birthday?” I asked getting an idea.

“Next month, why’d you wanna know?” she answered.

“You’re my friend, I wanna get you a pressie that’s all,” I replied with a smile.

I knew Clare was on a tight budget and she was saving for implants. Besides liking her I felt a bit sad that she had such a family while mine was behind me (well most of them anyway).

Did I mention that after I got my implants I seemed more comfortable with the idea of actually going out with a real live guy? I knew I was attractive just from the way men I didn’t know looked at me in restaurants, shops and in the streets.

Richie my colleague looked at me in a rather less friendly and more man to woman way which I liked as it validated my womanhood in a great way though I didn’t want this new dynamic to alter our purely platonic relationship.

I don’t know how I would have handled a bloke’s real interest but the fact that they were looking did wonders for my ego.

“I know this sounds silly but I do want a relationship with a guy preferably someone I’ve never known. Where do I meet hot, eligible men then? Clubbing’s not my scene, I hate pubs and every guy see in a restaurant is with another woman. Now I hear you asking, what will you do with a man when your body’s a W-I-P? Fair point, but that aside I would like a boyfriend, someone to share life with, to worry about and share all the joys and sorrows life throws and a waiting a year seems a daunting prospect,” I wrote in my journal one night.

“Charlene you shouldn’t have!” Claire exclaimed when I sprung my surprise on her, a gift certificate for a cosmetic procedure of her choice.

“Do you want the boobs or not?” I replied with a smile whereupon Claire threw her arms around me.

“Thank you so much!” she said emotionally.

“Happy birthday Claire but there’s more. You’re invited to dinner at my place tonight,” I said when we pulled apart.

“I don’t know what to say,” she added, still stunned.

“What about yes I’d love to,” I teased.

“Yes I’d love to. Your family won’t mind right?”

“It was Mum’s suggestion actually and I liked it. You can’t have your 21st all alone,” I told her gently.

“You’re such a great friend,” answered Claire, looking close to tears.

Mum had made Claire a wonderful cake while I’d cooked a splendid dinner for her if I do say so myself! Pete and Myra also pitched up and Claire a nice time. Even though she was doing well without her family and behaved like she didn’t miss them, deep down I knew she would have been particularly lonely that night, her first birthday without her family.

To be continued.

Sydney Moya

 © 2013

Chapter 8

Apparently someone in her family did think of her on her birthday because her phone rang after dinner.

“May I speak to Claire McCaskill,” said a female voice.

“Speaking,” replied Claire before excusing herself from the table.

“It’s me Julie, I just called to wish you a happy birthday,” said the caller.

Julie was Claire’s 17 year old little sister.

Claire was shocked.

“Hi Julie, thank you but why are you calling me. I don’t even exist according to your parents. You’ll be in trouble if they find out,” replied Claire coldly.

Not one of her family had tried to understand or back her up, each and every one of them had turned their backs on her, Julie included. She’d called her a freak.

“I’m sorry I insulted you, I shouldn’t have done that. I now understand why you wanted to be a girl thanks to this girl at school who is just like you. We all treated you badly and I miss you terribly. Please forgive me, I was so stupid,” pleaded Julie.

Claire was dumbstruck, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“Hey are you still there?” Julie queried.

“Yeah I am, I’m just stunned that’s all,” Claire replied.

“I really mean this Claire, I know I hurt you but I’m sorry,” Julie answered fervently.

Claire took a deep breath and said, “I forgive you. Thank you for calling, I’ve missed you too,” she said softly.

“Thanks sis, I won’t be in trouble I’m sleeping over at a friend’s. How are you doing?” Julie asked with interest.

Claire heard her call her ‘sis’ and was touched.

‘I’m okay, how’s everyone back home doing?” Claire found herself asking.

“Their fine but the place sucks without you,” came the teen’s reply, “I wish you could come back and we could start over,” she sighed.

“I can’t, you heard Mum and Dad and Logan will kill me. Things are better off this way,” said Claire.

Julie began crying, “We were so cruel to you, how can a family do that to one of its kids,” she wept.

Claire knowing Julie well knew she hardly ever cried so she could tell she felt bad and was sorry for her.

“I don’t hate you or Mum, Dad, Logan and Colin. Don’t cry its water under the bridge now, I have my life back now and you’ve made my day by getting in touch,” said Claire gently.

“Are you happy? Did you have a nice birthday?” Julie asked, trying to regain her composure.

“Yes I love being me and I had a nice birthday celebration at a friend’s house and we’re cutting the cake soon,” explained Claire.

“I’m not holding you up am I?” queried Julie anxiously.

“No not at all. My friend will understand,” said Claire.

“Is your friend a guy?” Julie asked.

Claire laughed, “No it’s a girl. I don’t have a boyfriend if that’s what you’re thinking not that I wouldn’t mind one.”

“How do you look?” enquired Julie, “Are you pretty?”

“I don’t know about being pretty but my hair’s longer these days,” replied Claire.

“Send me a photo,” suggested Julie.

“You know I can’t do that. What if Mum and Dad see it, you know how they are about your phone and they don’t want you to have anything to with me. If they saw my picture you’d be in hot water,” replied Claire.

“Please Claire, I really miss you. No one will see it besides me. I need to see you. I’m on MySpace and I check my account at Bev’s house, sign up and I’ll add you to my list or if you think that’s a risk I won’t add you but it’ll be a way of keeping in touch,” supplied Julie.

“You do want that right? Because I do, you’re the only sister I’ll ever have,” finished Julie.

“That’s so sweet Julie. I’ll do it if you’re sure it won’t get you into trouble,” said Claire really moved.

“I promise to be careful. I have to go. Happy birthday honey, I love you.”

“I love you too and thank you for calling you made my day really special,” responded Claire.

“Good for you Claire,” I said to Claire when she told me who had called her.

“I can’t believe it, her call was the perfect birthday present,” Chloe told me.

In the ensuing weeks Claire and Julie chatted online until Julie asked to see her.

“No you can’t meet with me. If Mum and Dad found you met with me it’ll be a disaster,” she told her sister.

“Come on Claire. Don’t you want to see me?” replied Julie.

“Yes I do but I don’t want to get you into trouble,” responded Claire.

“Sod them. If they find out I don’t care. I’ll have seen you and followed my conscience,” said Julie forcefully.

“What about me? You’ll put me at risk,” said Clare unhappily.

“How, you don’t exist in their eyes and they don’t know where you live,” said Julie.

“Remember in their view I’m all sorts of things so I’ll be a bad influence and they know where I work, I don’t anymore trouble or anything to do with them,” said Claire.

“Maybe you’re still mad at me and that’s why you don’t want. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did okay,” said Julie in a sulky voice.

“Julie, we’ve been through this, I have nothing against you. I love you and I forgave you way back,” said Claire in exasperation.

“Then why won’t you let me see you, it feels like you’re punishing me. Do you want me to show up at your garage?” replied Julie sadly.

Claire gave in.

“Alright,” she said with a sigh, “name the time and place.”

I told Claire that I thought it was wonderful that her sister wanted to see her.

“I think it’s just great Claire you ought to show her your flat,” I suggested.

“No way, we’re meeting at a coffee shop. I can’t risk bringing her home because she might start showing up whenever she wanted to see me,” said Claire though she was smiling.

“Look, um,” began Richie nervously one Friday.

“Yes,” I said wondering what was on his mind.

“Would you like to come see a play with me tomorrow, I just happen to have a spare ticket,” he said leaving me taken aback.

Was he really asking me for a date?

“Um sure why not?” I said without giving it a second thought.

He smiled that cute smile of his and I suddenly realised I’d never thought of it that way.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at six,” he said cheerfully.

“Okay,” I said smiling while I thought- what just happened here?

Did I really just get asked out by Richie and did I agree? Sounds like a date.

I tried to talk myself down.

“Don’t be silly Richie’s just being friendly like he’s been at all those lunches and dinners you’ve had.”

I wasn’t convinced.

‘Come to think of it what were those dinners anyway? Okay we talked about work, him and me. Fair enough but what work could we possibly be chatting about on a Saturday night at the West End? That leaves him and me so logically he’s interested in me!

Whoopee! Wait a sec, women aren’t supposed to think logically or are they?

He likes me! Does he see me as a woman or is he gay? Don’t think like that!

What am I going to wear?

Does he really like me that way?

Why was he so nervous?

Oh gosh, I don’t know what to think.’

I texted Claire, “If a guy you work with who has always been friendly to you asks you to see a play on a Saturday night what do you make of it.”

Her reply was almost instantaneous.

“OMG! Don’t tell me you’ve got a date. What are you going to wear? Is he good looking? Do you like him?” she texted back.

I immediately phoned her.

“Congratulations girl!” Claire said the minute she picked up.

“Um thanks but I don’t think it’s a date you know, its more friendly less datey” I said more to convince myself than Claire.

“Of course Charlene but if that’s the case what would you call an outing with me?” Claire pointed out.

I thought she had a point.

“Listen girl, you have every right to have guys like you, there’s nothing wrong with it. After all you are a girl. I want you to stop lying to yourself and go to that play and have fun, alright?” Claire instructed, putting me at ease, she could always be relied upon to say the right thing.

“I will Mum,” I teased.

So what if Richie was being friendly or not, it didn’t matter as long as I had fun which is what I intended to do.

To be continued.

Sydney Moya

 © 2012-2013

All rights reserved

Chapter 9

“Edith I was so wrong about Charlene,” Mum told her friend Mrs Dalny, “No man would go to the lengths she’s gone. I’ve been so wrong to think she was a man when she hated it so much,”

Her crony nodded.

“She is rather pretty and she doesn’t drink anymore does she?”

“No she doesn’t, ever since stopping living as a man she hasn’t touched drop. I think that was the cause of her boozing, she was trying to numb the pain. My poor child,” replied Mum.

Mrs Dalny nodded once again.

“She does look content, there’s this serenity about her lately,” she remarked.

“Yes I know what you mean. I’m so happy that she’s at peace with the world and happy nowadays,” agreed Mum quietly.

“What’s Stu’s take on losing his boy?” Mrs Dalny asked.

“You can never tell with Stu but I think he’s a bit disappointed. Of course he understands how badly our Charlene felt about it, the way she drank! And gosh how she cried when she told me how she felt. He saw that and even if it was a blow he knows her happiness is the most important thing and he would never stand in the way of that. Wills is the most affected by all this, he is totally opposed to Charlene and they haven’t spoken to each other in months. Charlene hates how he mocks her and always calls her Charlie. I think Wills is taking it the wrong way and it’s costing him the respect and affection Charlene has for him.”

“Mum tell me what you think of this dress?” I asked my mother on the afternoon of my ‘non date’ with Richie.

I held up the navy blue gown I’d just bought.

“Hmm, try it on first. It’s yours right?” she responded uncertainly.

“Yes its mine,” I responded happily before going to change into it.

‘I love this, being a girl is so cool,’ I thought as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I had a really pleasing figure

“I wish I could get my op today,” I sighed before going back downstairs.

“So how do I look?” I said when I reached Mum.

“You look lovely; it’s perfect on you it brings out those gorgeous eyes. I wish I’d had your figure when I was your 23 luv, you’re gorgeous,” exclaimed Mum in wonder.

I smiled.

“Thanks Mum. I love it too,” I responded happily.

“What’s the occasion?” enquired Mum.

“I’m going to see a play tonight,” I answered in the same cheerful tone.

“Alone,” said Mum with interest.

I felt my cheeks colour.

“No I’m going with Richie,” I replied.

“Really, I thought you said he was just a friend,” said Mum.

I rolled my eyes.

“He is,” I said but without conviction.

Mum gave me a shrewd look.

“If you say so but I wonder why you bought such a beautiful dress but then what do I know, I’m just an old biddy,” said Mum.

“It’s not what you think Mum. We’re just friends and I bought this because I liked it. Richie doesn’t see me that way anyway,” I told her though I was still flushed.”Whatever you say dear,” remarked Mum knowingly before she turned away to attend to her chopping board.

“Oh Mum,” I sighed walking up to her and giving her an over the shoulder hug. “I can’t have a boyfriend yet okay? I don’t like Richie except as a friend and colleague who see’s me as a complete human being,not as a freak or transsexual. Besides, we always do lunch and some dinners together and he has never indicated liking me as a girlfriend. I’m perfectly happy with that,” I told her.

Mum just turned me around and kissed my cheek before smiling at me, “Have fun dear,” she said.

“I will,” I replied before walking out of the kitchen.

I met Wills as he walked in and he gave me the usual sour look which I ignored.

All the sour looks in the world would never make me into his brother again I thought. We passed each other in silence as usual.

Richie was at my place at six on the dot.

“Hey Richie,” I said nervously.

“Hi Charlene, all set,” he replied with a smile.

“Yep let’s go,” I answered still not believing I had a date.

“Dad I’m really concerned about Charlie and all this rubbish about being a woman. I really think you should talk some sense into him,” Wills told Dad as I left the house. They were in the living room watching the football like they did nearly every weekend.

Dad said nothing for a while, carefully considering his words as usual.

“I know you’re concerned but Charlie’s 23 years old and isn’t a small child anymore. The more we tell Charlie to be a man the more she resents it because she hates it,” said Dad quietly.

Wills shook his head, “So you think that barmy doctor was right to tell him to get a sex-change, then?” he asked.

“Possibly, Charlie hasn’t touched the sauce since then, in my experience something unbearable drives someone to drink the way Charlie did. It’s a form of escape so to speak and in Charlie’s case it was extreme. The fact is Charlie must have hated being a man to drink like that because the minute she stopped hiding and being a man the boozing stopped and Charlie seems happy being a woman. Who am I to tell her not to be something that fulfils her if it’s not illegal?” Dad answered solemnly.

Wills was shell-shocked.

“But he’s your son,” he said.

“Was my son,” Dad corrected him, “its time you stopped thinking of Charlene the way you do William, I don’t mind her being my daughter if she wants it that much nor does your mother. Charlene thinks you hate her and that’s no good, you two have no one else besides each other you know,” said Dad calmly.

“Well you and Mum might like it but I don’t, Charlie’s a man not a woman,” Wills insisted.

“Why are you so obsessed about Charlene being a man?” queried Mum from the door.

“You’re fighting a losing battle when you oppose someone’s identity Wills, all you’ll do is just cause antagonism. Charlene wanted to be a girl when she was 4 and it’s been bothering her throughout her life. In case you haven’t noticed your brother had breast implants a while back, what kind of a boy does that unless she is a girl on the inside or can dress as a woman all the time and feel normal. Face it you’ve got a sister not a brother and that’s not going to change no matter how much you hate it or argue against it,” Mum said.

I had a great time watching the play with Richie, it was Mary Poppins and I found myself laughing and crying all in one evening but the really interesting thing happened afterwards.

“You look nice,” Richie said as we were having dinner.

“Um thanks,” I replied, looking into my plate not knowing what to think while I coloured slightly.

We had the rest of the meal in companionable silence with a bit of chitchat here and there. When we got back to the car, Richie didn’t immediately start the engine but just looked at me.

“Charlene there’s something I want to get off my chest,” he began, “I love you,” he said quietly.

Before I could reply he tenderly drew me towards himself and for some reason I just went with it like a moth to a light and he kissed me, his mouth warm and sensual, I was too stunned to resist as his tongue invaded my mouth and actually found myself responding and enjoying it.

“Gosh you’re lovely,” he whispered when our lips parted.

“Richie,” I said softly as I attempted to collect myself and catch my breath.

He looked at me with longing.

“I like you but only as a friend, we can’t have that kind of relationship because my body’s not okay yet and I don’t want people at the office to ostracise you,” I wanted to say but it came to as,

“It won’t work Richie,” I said in a whisper.

In truth I didn’t know how I felt as conflicting emotions and thoughts overwhelmed me. I had just received my first kiss, a red letter moment for any girl but it didn’t mean I loved Richie, or did I? Everything was so confusing.

Where does the line between friendship and what Richie wanted lie?

“It will and you know it,” Richie insisted before picking up my hands.

I wondered how on earth our relationship reached the point where Richie kissed and proposed love to me.

Did he love me because I was a woman or had he always had feelings for me? Was he straight and attracted to me or was he gay?

All these questions flitted through my head. Sure I liked him but it was how I liked Pete, purely platonic.

“Richie please I don’t know what to say,” I pleaded.

“Say you love me,” he replied passionately before picking up my hands.

“I need to think,” I answered.

He gave me a pained look, the longing in his eyes plain to see.

“I need some space,” I said softly.

“Okay,” he agreed before he gently kissed my forehead.

I couldn’t sleep that night because of that kiss and what it meant. I had never been in love with anyone and that was my first kiss. I hadn’t even told Mum what had happened, it would have simply publicised what I needed to sort out alone, internally.

I’m a girl and Richie’s a guy who says he loves me. Okay, but can a man love a transsexual and if so one who is pre-op? Unless he is gay which won’t do because I’m a straight woman, more to the point do I love Richie?

What is love anyway and if I love him can he wait till my surgery? I asked myself

Unfortunately there were no answers coming forth and when I finally dozed off I was nowhere near clarifying things

To be continued.

Sydney Moya

 ©2014

Chapter ten

“Morning Mum,” I said the next morning at breakfast.

“Morning dearie, what’s wrong, you look peaky,” said Mum, eyeing me worriedly.

“Insomnia, I couldn’t sleep for most of the night,” I said with a yawn.

“Probably that laptop of yours, you spend so much time each evening on it, it’s a wonder you can still sleep,” Mum responded.

I rolled my eyes.

She’d been having a go about me having a TV and being glued to my laptop while in bed for ages. As far as she was concerned it interfered with my sleeping habits. In her eyes bedrooms were for sleeping in only.

I called Claire and asked if I could drop in on her.

“Sure, how was your date? Claire queried.

“That’s what I want to talk about. You won’t believe what happened,” I replied.

“Ooh, sounds interesting. Do tell,” she replied.

“I can’t, I have to tell you in person sit tight and give me an hour,” I told her.

“An hour and counting,”

I fixed myself up and left to go to Claire’s. A cup of tea greeted me.

“Now tell me all about your date,” she said excitedly.

“You first, how was your sister?” I replied.

“That’s not the deal we made,” explained Claire.

That didn’t stop her from gushing about it.

“It was great to see her again, I didn’t realise how much I missed her until yesterday,” she went on.

“Was she happy to see you, did she recognise you?” I asked.

My pal nodded, “Yeah she did despite the hair she claimed she’d have known me anywhere and was quite pleased with how I look. Boy was she thrilled to see me.”

“Are you going to keep seeing each other?”

“‘Course though I had said we shouldn’t both of us need to be in each other’s lives. I can’t tell Julie I can’t keep seeing her when she wants it so much and to be honest I’ve missed her so much too,” answered Claire.

“What about your parents?” I queried.

“They don’t have to know. I just hope they don’t find out,” she answered before passing me her camera. There was a picture of her and another girl with a strong resemblance to her.

“That’s Julie,” she said proudly.

“She looks just like you,” I said warmly.

Claire smiled liking the comparison.

“Does she? Thanks,” she answered as she looked at the pic, a smile on her lips.

“Enough about me, tell me about your date,” said my friend with an inordinate amount of interest I thought.

“It wasn’t a date,” I corrected.

“You’re not convincing anyone so drop the pretence,” replied Claire with a smirk.

I had to smile back.

“It looks I’m the only one labouring under that delusion,” I answered as I thought of Mum, Claire’s words and Richie’s kiss.

“What do you mean?” Claire asked.

“Richie kissed me last night and said he loves me,” I told her.

Claire was gobsmacked, “Really, OMG Charlene! Do you feel the same?” she exclaimed.

“I like Richie but not that way,” I replied in a worried voice.

Claire gave me a sympathetic look.

“Are you scared of liking him or you just don’t know?” she asked.

“Frankly, I don’t know,” I said with a sigh.

“Okay spill, what’s on your mind?”

I took a sip of tea.

“Part of me says I should be flattered that a guy can feel like that for me but then I think maybe Richie thinks I’ve had my op or he’s bi. And then I worry if I’m ready for a full scale relationship,” I told my friend, “especially if I don’t know what if feel about the guy, I’m just so confused.”

We sat in silence for a while, drinking copious amounts of tea, until Claire asked,

“What did you tell him?”

“That it wouldn’t work but he insists it will. I think he’s crazy about me and he came on really strong Claire. I was too overwhelmed to say anything except to tell him I needed some space,” I responded, my voice sounding distressed.

“Will he give you your space?” replied Claire gently.

I nodded, “Yes but I don’t know for how long that’ll be. I don’t think I can go to work tomorrow, what’ll I say to him?” I replied morosely.

“Charlene,” said Claire gently, “you don’t love this guy but you’re fond of him and I think you’re scared to lose your only friend at work if you turn him down. You’ve come to depend on him because he treats you normally and that’s what you don’t want to lose. Unfortunately he’s fallen for you in the process. Tell him you don’t feel the same, it’s the only thing you can do,” she advised.

***

“What’s the matter dear?” Mum asked me at dinner.

“Your mind’s elsewhere,” commented Dad as he looked at my plate, the food had barely been touched. I was so lost in thought about in Richie and what Claire had said that eating was the last thing on my mind,

“Sorry, I was just thinking about work, that’s all,” I told my parents before giving my meal a bit more attention so as to get them off my back. Dad seemed satisfied with my answer but Mum gave me that look mothers always have when something’s bothering their child but the child won’t tell. I avoided meeting her eyes which confirmed I was hiding something.

Maybe it’s my fault. I probably led Richie on. Wasn’t I the one who told herself she wanted a relationship with a guy? Maybe I sent the wrong signals and admit it you know what some guys are like if a girl shows even the friendliest interest.

Yes I probably sent the wrong signals- I smiled and said yes to the West End thingy and countless other things- yes he probably thought I had the hot’s for him, after all I omitted to say otherwise.

Gosh what a mess, I thought as I lay in bed.

I went to work the next morning not knowing how I’d handle Richie when I saw him. I had told myself I didn’t want a romantic relationship with him and had a mental picture of myself telling him it wouldn’t work.

“I can’t go out with you,” I whispered to myself the entire morning.

Finally I went to his office and asked him to lunch, my mind made up.

“Richie I can’t go out with you, I’m not in love with you,” I said to Richie from out of the blue.

We were in the midst of lunch and discussing a client’s needs. There seemed to be no other way of letting him know than for me to just get it off my chest. It sounds harsh I know but I said it in my gentlest tone.

Richie froze in mid-sentence, looking shattered and my heart swelled with pity for him.

“I like you as a friend,” I added.

“Oh,” he replied in a whisper, “I understand,” he added quietly, regaining control.

I hated myself for a moment for putting him through this.

“I’d better get back, I’ve got work to do thanks for the meal,” he said before standing and leaving the restaurant.

I didn’t know what to say or do.

We hardly talked to each other for the rest of the week and when we did it was only because it had something to do with work. Part of me knew it was Richie’s way of getting over me. It probably hurt him a lot to see me so I respected his tacit wish for me to keep clear from him. Yet another part of me regretted what my words had to our previously easy going friendship.

Still it was a surprise when Mr Smith called us all and announced that Richie had tendered his resignation. He was leaving to do VSO work in Sierra Leone. Needless to say the entire office was taken aback, it was so out of the blue and Richie was pretty good at his job and definitely had a bright future. He had all the reasons to stay on; he was young, talented and well thought of. The pay was great and the job challenging.

So you can imagine what a shock it was to hear he was going to Sierra Leone. Was it my fault? I asked myself almost as soon as the news was broken. Had I hurt him so much that he felt it necessary to go all the way to Africa?

To be continued.

A New Direction

Sydney Moya

©2015

Chapter 11

I can’t begin to describe the nature the nature of my thoughts and emotions concerning Richie in the four weeks that served as his notice period. I wanted to talk to him but he’d clearly made it a point to avoid me and I was too reticent to seek him out. His behaviour confirmed my suspicions. Ever since our date at the theatre things between us had gone pear-shaped. He didn’t pop in to say hi or to ask if we could do lunch like he used to. Furthermore we were working on separate accounts so professionally he had no reason to consult me. So the weeks and I grew to despair of the thought of going to a workplace where I had no one I could call a friend. Richie was the only person who’d gone out of his way to make me feel comfortable. To everyone else I was a pariah. Richie’s avoidance of me brought home that fact.

The day of Richie’s farewell party and departure came too quickly but come it did. As usual I was alone and definitely not enjoying myself while everyone feted Richie.

I’d better go home I thought even though I badly wanted to talk to Richie. I took another glance at him, he was still surrounded by people but our eyes met and we held each other gaze for a second before I tore my eyes away and went to my cubicle.

Seconds later I’d packed my things and was leaving when I noticed Richie standing by my door.

“Oh hi Richie,” I said.

“Hi,” he answered.

“So you’re leaving,” I started for lack of anything better to say.

“Yes,” he replied.

We stood in silence gazing at each other and wondering what to say.

"You weren't enjoying the party?" Richie asked, breaking the silence

“No not really,” I replied honestly.

How could I when my only friend was leaving possibly because of me?

“I was about to leave,” I added.

“Oh,” he said his voice holding a note of disappointment.

He turned to leave.

“Richie wait,” I whispered and he halted, surprised.

I went over to him.

“Look I’m sorry about things turning out the way they did, I never meant to hurt you it’s just that I didn’t share your feelings,” I told him looking into his eyes, “and I want to thank you for being a great friend and being the only person who treated me like a human being. I loved every second I’ve spent with you and I don’t want you to leave with hard feelings,” I said very sincerely.

He looked at me for a few seconds before coming over and embracing me.

“No hard feelings,” he said as he held me in his arms for what seemed like an eon though it still felt nice. When he let go I promptly pecked him on the cheek.

“That’s for giving me a lovely first kiss,” I told him while I blushed wildly, “good luck and best wishes on your travels,” I added warmly.

We hugged each other again.

“Thanks girl, you will keep in touch right?”

“Yes, make sure you reply,” I teased before letting go.

“’Course I will.”

The office was never the same place after Richie’s departure. I had absolutely no one to socialise with but was still grateful that I’d parted on amicable terms with Richie. When I told Pete about the whole Richie affair he told me it was my fault in a way.

“You sent him the wrong signals,” he remarked as he sipped his Coke.

“How, I never once told Richie that I loved him,” I responded.

“Well maybe not but to some guys’ actions speak louder than words,” he replied in a rather knowing tone.

“I don’t get you because I never insinuated that I loved him either by word or gesture,” I answered half-irritated by his assumption.

“You went to dinners and lunches with him right?” Pete queried.

“Sure but that was for work purposes,” I retorted.

“Really,” said Pete looking at me with smiling eyes, “was advertising the only thing you two ever discussed? Didn’t you talk about colleagues, family, yourselves? Didn’t you make him laugh and laugh at his jokes in turn? He trusted you, you’re more attractive than you probably think and maybe he doesn’t mind you being transgender and its becoming harder and harder to reconcile you and the Charlie of 11 months ago,” remarked my friend.

In a way I could see his point but it rankled.

“So you’re going to say he fell for me because I was friendly and entertaining?” I asked, shocked.

“No I’m not but stranger things have happened,” said Pete with a smile.

“That’s not fair, are you saying I can’t be friendly to someone because I’m asking them to fall for me?” I asked, “Because that’s ridiculous.”

“You’re right but it sounds like what happened with Richie. You were nice to him and he assumed you loved him. Guys are like that,” commented Myra matter-of-factly, “you have to keep them at arm’s length then when you have one keep him on a leash,” she joked making me laugh.

Pete didn’t find it funny, “Say what?”

“It’s a girl thing, you wouldn’t understand,” replied Myra as we chuckled.

Even though I had no friends at work I still enjoyed my job, it was challenging and fulfilling and I made up for the lack of social interaction there by starting to go out again. Myra, Claire and I set up a girl’s night in and a girl’s night out every other Tuesday and Thursday. On those Thursday’s the three of us would spend the evening watching chick flicks and giggling incessantly about everything while on the Tuesday’s we either went clubbing or ate out. I never touched alcohol but always had fun and enjoyed being with my friends. The fact that Myra actually loved being with me and Claire, calling us, ‘a pair of silly girls,’ which in a way we were and treating us naturally was wonderful and Claire and I really appreciated her friendship.

You have to be transgendered to know how it feels when people of your chosen gender know your situation and still choose to accept you completely as one of them, it’s fantastic.

Time went by and before I knew it the one year anniversaries of two momentous events in my life came up. The first was my decision to quit drinking and the second and most important was my decision to embrace my true identity. I could scarcely believe it when they came by 2 months after each other. I hadn’t let a drop of alcohol pass my lips in over a year and looking back I wonder how I did it, the first two months were the hardest though the AA programme helped. It wasn’t until I came out to everyone and stopped living as a guy that the urge to drink lost its potency.

Sure there had been times when I felt tempted to buy a pint and this usually happened when I was stressed like after my argument with Wills or whenever I was in a restaurant and saw the wine list, reminders of alcohol being everywhere in this country and it being a social lubricant makes it a hard thing to ignore especially for an ex-boozer like me but there I was, a year later, alcohol free.

No more blackouts and killer hangovers, in a way I had removed a burden from my shoulders by becoming a teetotaller. Hot on the heels of this anniversary was me completing one year living as me! I remembered that first day when I’d struggled with my hair without hormones and unsympathetic family, I’d spent the day in bed eating milk and cookies and watching dvds and feeling miserable. How things can change in a year! I had hair that almost reached my shoulders now and though I still had bad hair days none of them were half as bad as that first day. I loved the way I looked now, I had the body I’d always wanted with one exception down there. The majority of my family accepted and supported me and I had great friends and best of all oestrogen was now the dominant hormone in my body, I was more in touch with my emotions, felt a lot less aggression anger and I was a lot calmer.

There were no more erections and in 3-4 months I would have the surgery I’d waited for my whole life. Naturally I felt like a million bucks and to celebrate Pete, Myra and Claire took me for dinner where a great time was had by all even though no one had wine with their meal in solidarity with me.

“I’d like to thank you all for a lovely evening and for making the last year the most interesting and happiest of my life,” I told my friends at the end of the meal.

“Hear, hear Charlene,” replied Pete lifting his soft drink in a toast, “and I’d like to thank you for letting us in on your secret identity, as Charlene you’re far more interesting, healthier, funnier and thankfully I don’t have to carry you home every night after you’ve drunk too much,” he teased.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for telling me to get help and not abandoning me when I told you what I was going through,” I replied with a smile.

“Don’t mention it, what are mates for?” Pete said grinning back.

To be continued

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

Sydney Moya

 © 2016

Chapter thirteen

I saw Claire’s features freeze and I couldn’t define the expression on her face, it was a mix of fear, confusion, and shock.

“Claire, are you still there?” Julie asked, she sounded worried.

Claire looked at me and her eyes looked gave it away, she was still hurt and vulnerable, clearly unsure what to do.

For the first time I had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry I sprang this on you,” went on Julie before Claire finally found her voice again.

“I’ve got nothing to say to her. I don’t want to meet her Julie. Goodbye,” she said in a steely voice before ending the call and switching off her phone.

She looked at me, her eyes bright and I gave her a hug, right there in the street.

“Charlene,” announced Helen McMillan at the end of one session a few weeks later.

“Yes,” I said, rather despairingly.

I just went to see her because I had to not because I wanted to.

I wasn’t too happy at the fact that I still hadn’t received my go ahead for the surgery. I felt she was dragging her feet at my expense, in effect putting up more hoops for me to jump through.

She kept saying she was still gauging my state of mind. I wondered what there was to gauge. I had proved that I could live successfully as a woman, my relationship with my family was mostly intact and I was a better a person than I had been before my transition. What more did she want?

I didn’t appreciate it to say the least and was thinking about getting a second opinion. I hadn’t bothered asking her about a timeline for my surgery as I didn’t see the point. She’d been great until now. I was beginning to see her as an impediment to my progress.

“I think it’s time we started looking into your surgery,” she announced.

I was over the moon.

“Really,”

She nodded and smiled.

“It’s about time,” I said, a silly smile plastered on my face.

“I’m sorry if you felt that I’ve been delaying you. I’m required to ensure that only people who can meet the standards of care are put on the list,” she said apologetically.

“Yay I’m on the list. Thank you,” I responded happily.

I wasn’t the only one receiving good news.

Claire received an unexpected visitor at work. She called me that evening, sounding very emotional.

“It’s me Mum,” she murmured.

I waited for the explanation and she duly narrated what had happened.

“ McCaskill you’ve got visitors,’’ her supervisor had announced.

“Who are they?” Claire asked from beneath the car she was checking out.

“Dunno, just get yourself to the bay will you,” the supervisor gruffly said.

Minutes later Claire was at the visitors bay. Standing there was her mother, her back turned. For an instant Claire’s heart stopped, she felt bile in her throat, her face tightening into a frown. She stood there stock still, looking at the woman who’d brought her into the world and then disowned when she’d voiced what she believed was her true identity.

Claire’s brain told her turn back and head back to work but her heart wouldn’t allow her to turn her back on her mother.

‘I’m a glutton for punishment,’ she thought.

So she walked towards her until she was right behind her before giving a gentle cough. Her mother turned and saw her, she tried to reach out and embrace her but Claire stepped back, holding up her hands.

The embrace died before its birth leaving an awkward moment where the two women just stood looking at each other.

Claire’s mother finally broke the silence, “I thought you wouldn’t come,” she began.

“So did I,” said Claire, trying and failing to keep the ice out of her voice, “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see you, its been a year since I last laid eyes on you,” answered Mrs McCaskill.

“Well I’m sure we know which one of us wanted that,” responded Claire, unmoved by the attempted rapprochement.

"I know, I just came to ask your forgiveness. I'm sorry," her mother remarked, her eyes watering.

Claire was stunned, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

She rushed to the woman who'd brought her into this world and gave her the hug to end all hugs.

She was very happy when she called, telling me everything.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"I know I can't believe it either," she said.

I could feel her happiness over the phone.

We talked about what it meant.

"It turns out she had a heart to heart with Julie and the new GP and they made her understand everything I was going through," Claire explained.

"What about your Dad and your brothers?"

"Mum says their still upset but she thinks they'll come around," Claire explained.

My friend was the eternal optimist, always hoping for the best while I had a more pragmatic streak. Its one of the things I liked about her. She was so upbeat about life all the time no matter what it threw at her.

I would live to regret that.

Claire and her mum had lunch later that week with Claire telling her all about her life over the past year. Her mother apologised profusely again for everything. Claire sent me a text saying things were being patched up.

"Don't move back in just yet," I teased her though truth be told I was overjoyed for her.

Family is so important and I know how much it hurts when you think they don't care.

Not everyone in her family was like her sister though, her older brother Logan came by that Friday as she was knocking off work.

"Hey," he yelled when he saw her.

Claire's heart sank, she tried to increase her pace.

Logan upped his pace as well.

"Hey you fairy, I'm talking to you,'' he hollered.

Claire ignored him, walking away hoping he'd leave her alone. Logan ran up to her and grabbed her by the wrist.

"Let go," said Claire.

"No you listen up you stupid fairy. Stay away from Mum and Julie we don't need your sort around us,"

"Go to hell!" Claire said angrily.

"What did you say to me?"

"Go to hell Logan, why don't you leave me alone?"

Logan punched her repeatedly, felling her in the process. Once she was on the ground, the blows rained down, one after the other her screams piercing the air.

When I went to see Claire at the hospital, I was shocked at her appearance. Claire's face had been battered, she was black and blue, quite a sight. The nurse had told me she was in a bad way but that she was conscious.

I felt my heart break, how could people do this to each other?

I quickly hid my emotions behind a mask. I couldn't let her see my shock.

"Claire, how are you?" I asked in a concerned voice, while plastering a false smile on my face.

"Charlene," she croaked, ''you came."

"'Course I did," I murmured taking her hand and squeezing it.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"I brought you some flowers," I said, placing them on the table.

I was rewarded with a small smile.

"How are you?''

Claire shook her head, "Not good. I just want to go home," she remarked.

"Soon, just get better okay," I told her, “you can come and stay at my place, ‘kay?”

Claire shook her head slowly, "I don't know,'' she said quietly.

“You’ll be okay sweetie,’’ I urged her, willing it with all my heart to be so.

I hurried to the station. I hadn't seen her for a couple of days because of the deadline I was facing. I was worried about her, she sounded really down whenever I called or texted her. Her last message was quite uplifting thanking me for being a friend. For some reason this worried me. I’d promised Claire I’d be in to see her yesterday but I’d been held up at work. I knew she was depressed but I’d got her some chocolate in the hope of cheering her up. The train moved far too slowly. I worried I might miss visiting hours.

‘Dammit,’ I thought.

Finally after an age I reached the hospital and raced up to Claire’s ward. To my surprise Claire’s bed was empty. I looked around the ward and couldn’t spot my friend.

I went to the nurse’s station to find out if my friend had been moved or discharged.

“Hi, sorry to bother you but I can’t find my friend. Claire McCaskill,” I explained to the duty nurse, a middle aged black woman.

“Hello let me see,” said the nurse.

She typed in the name and I saw her face fall.

She looked up at me, “I’m sorry but Ms McCaskill passed away yesterday. I’m sorry.”

I looked at her.

“No,” I whispered, “no.”

That must the moment the tears began to fall and with my eyes a practically blinded I staggered to the benches. The sobs escaped from my throat with ever increasing intensity. I don't know how long I sat there or how I eventually got home.

I was stunned speechless when I heard Claire had died. I honestly didn’t know what to feel, I was just numb. My cheerful, sweet friend was gone forever. I would never see her bright smile again.

I looked at her last text to me, a sweet message I hadn’t replied too as I was in a meeting. She’d passed away a couple of hours later.

I couldn’t get any news of the funeral arrangements; days went by and neither Claire nor Julie's phones were being picked up. When I went round to her place it was locked. When I went to her workplace to enquire about what was happening I was told she’d already been buried at the East London cemetery. Her boss told me she’d been buried as Cyril, her old name.

I was horrified, that would have been the last thing my friend wanted.

I cried that night, missing my friend and feeling terrible that I’d been unable to even say goodbye to her. Maybe it was my fault, I should have told her to be careful about her family, as a leopard can’t change its spots.

I morbidly wondered if Will might kill me too, for the first time I feared my brother.

Over the next few days I fell into a funk, I carried on as normal but inside there was a hole in my heart. I could be watching the telly and see something which would remind me of something Claire had done or said. I could be at work and a client would be shitty and I’d think of telling Claire to complain then I’d remember.

“She’s dead,’’ I would think.

I wasn’t familiar with death. My grandparents had passed away before my birth. My immediate family was still alive and I’d never experienced this pain. It was awful.

It was so unfair. Claire had so much to live for.

‘Why?’ I asked for the umpteenth time. Needless to say an answer wasn’t forthcoming.

For the first time in a while I went to an AA meeting. I was in so much pain and I wanted it to stop. My lovely friend was gone and I couldn’t cope with it. The only coping mechanism I knew was the bottle and there were many occasions when I came close to turning back to my old friend.

I knew Claire would have been mad I'd fallen of the wagon because of her so I went back to AA. The meeting helped a bit as I realised I didn’t have to give in to my demons, I wasn’t weird for wanting to numb the pain. Like I've said it helped a bit but the gaping hole in my heart remained.

Getting my surgery didn’t seem half as important anymore. Who would I share my euphoria with now? She was the only one who'd known what I was going through. For some weeks I was just a robot, mechanically going through the motions but completely gutted inside.

To be continued

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