"Honey," said Mom quietly. "You have to understand how difficult the past few months have been for your father. His only son running around dressed like a girl and dating a boy. And now you want to have surgery to alter your body to be more like a girl? That's a lot harder to swallow than you just wanting to dress like a girl."
"I thought you all had come to accept me!" I cried. "What's the deal? I'm not merely pretending to be a girl. I am a girl!"
Mom said, "I have to admit Chris, that mentally, you really do seem to be like a girl."
"Bullshit!" shouted Dad. "I know you've been saying a lot lately about wanting to be a girl. But goddammit! I really wanted my son back after all this cheerleader bullshit is through!"
I started crying, "Daddy!"
Dad turned to Mom and asked, "Am I wrong? Am I wrong to want my son back?"
Mom shook her head and said, "No, Dear. Not at all. But honestly, Honey, you have to consider Chrissy's desires. It's her life after all."
I just sat there crying. Dad shouted, "I've hated this girl crap from the beginning!" He paused a moment, then said, "You know, I don't have as big a problem with you being gay. But what's with the clothes and hair? Even in a small town like this you can get away with being openly gay. You don't have to be a girl to date Jeff."
"Jeff would think so," I said. "Dad, I'm not gay. I'm a girl. There's a difference."
"Chris, you can rationalize yourself into believing anything you want," said Dad, flatly.
I stood up and with all my heart shouted, "I need to be a girl, Dad! I want to marry Jeff! I want to be wearing a white, flowing wedding gown and have you give me away. I need breasts! Dad, please!" Something had snapped in my mind. Having breasts had suddenly gone from something scary to the most important thing in the world.
Dad just sat there and stared at me, the card half crumpled in his hand. His eye was no longer twitching. He sucked in a breath as if he was about to say something.
* * *
Chapter 8
Dad just stared into space with an odd expression on his face. His eyes stopped twitching, but every muscle in his face and neck seemed to tighten. He wouldn’t look at me.
Mom broke the silence by saying, “Chris. I realize a boob job isn’t a sex change and it can be reversed. But Honey, it’s still a big step.” She picked up the card where Dad had dropped it back onto the table and her eyes scanned it again. “Are you sure this is something you really want to do?”
I pulled a chair back from the table and sat down. I nodded slowly, “I am, Mom. I’m really sure. When I get out of the shower and look at myself in the mirror, I see a boy staring back at me. I don’t recognize that boy, Mom. It’s not me.”
“What’s going on out here?” called my sister’s voice as she came back into the room. “What’s wrong? Everyone looks upset.”
Diane sat down beside me. Mom leaned over and handed the card to her. Her eyes widened as she read through the card. “Holy shit!” She glanced over to Mom and said quickly, “Sorry.” She turned wide, incredulous eyes to me and asked, “Is this for real?”
I nodded. “It’s for real.”
Diane shook her head as she asked, “You’re not serious about this are you? You’re not going to do it, right?”
Surprised, I said, “Diane, I thought you of all people would understand. How many times have you told me you’re happy to have a sister now and how I’m a girl inside. I want to start making my outside a girl too.”
Diane wrinkled up her pretty face as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. “Yes, Chrissy. I love having a sister. Maybe that’s just being selfish on my part. And your being a girl has been… ah… well, I dunno… abstract. But this,” she waved the card in the air in front of me, “… this gives it a whole new reality.”
I took the card from her fingers and almost shouted, “Yes! The reality is that I don’t fit in my skin any more. I’m not a boy and I don’t want to look like one anymore!”
Mom said quietly, “Chris, settle down. Are you sure you’re not misunderstanding your feelings? I know you love Jeff with all your heart. Could it be that you’re clouding your judgment because you feel that you have to be a girl in order to love Jeff?”
Tears started to well up as I said, “Mom! I love Jeff because I’m a girl inside. And Jeff loves me because I’m a girl. He wouldn’t care about me if I was a boy. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand?” I searched the faces of Mom, Diane and Dad for some spark of understanding.
Diane said as she took one of my hands, “Chrissy, don’t have surgery just for a boy. If Jeff loves you, he’ll love you no matter what.”
“Jeff does love me,” I said as I choked back tears. “But I can tell he’s disappointed that he can’t hold me and touch me the way he would if I was totally girl.”
Diane tightened her grip on my hand as she said, “Just don’t do something drastic just to please a boy. Do it only if it will make you truly happy.”
I squeezed Diane’s hand and said, “Diane… Sis… You’ve already said it. I’m a girl inside. Being a boy just doesn’t seem natural to me anymore.”
Diane looked me straight in the eyes and laughed, “Yeah. I don’t see my brother at all anymore. But you might want to wait. My TS friend was on hormones and she had developed her own breasts. Maybe you should see Dad’s shrink. Maybe you can get on hormones or something.”
Mom chimed in with, “Dear, I think that would be the best thing. Go see a professional and see what they have to say.”
I pushed the card across the table to Mom and said, “Okay. I’ll go to Dad’s therapist. I think it’s a waste of time. But I’ll go… but only if you sign the card. I want insurance. I want my boobs no matter what.”
Mom hesitated a moment. She glanced at Dad who had been strangely silent this whole time. He just stared blankly into space. I was beginning to wonder if he’d finally blown a seal in his brain.
Mom picked up a pen, but still didn’t sign anything. Her pen hovered over the card for a few moments. Then with a confidence in her voice that her eyes betrayed, Mom said, “Sounds fair enough. I’ll call the therapist tomorrow to get your appointment scheduled.”
After Mom had signed the card, I slid it over towards Dad. At first, he didn’t even react. Finally, he looked down at the card and then back at me. With resoluteness in his voice, he said, “There’s no way in Hell I’m signing that card, son. I do want you to be happy in life but I can’t condone this.”
Sadly, I said, “Dad, I’m eighteen and I only need one signature on this card. I’d like to have your blessing on this though.”
Dad shook his head and sighed, “I may not be able to stop you, Chris. But I sure as Hell won’t help you with it.” His eyes were cold, unmoving.
I stared at the floor for a moment, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Dad.”
Dad turned to look at Mom, “I miss my son.”
* * *
I just sat in the car parked in Dr. Irrenarzt’s parking lot for a few minutes, trying to collect my nerve. I didn’t really want to see Dad’s psychiatrist. But I had promised. I had dressed androgynously with just jeans and a sweatshirt and no make-up and my hair pulled loosely into a ponytail. Finally, drawing in a deep breath, I got out of the car and walked towards the entrance to his office.
I was greeted pleasantly by the receptionist. She was very pretty, blonde and had breasts that I could only dream about. I thought to myself how very strange it was, that only a few months ago, I would have been drooling over her breasts for a completely different reason.
The receptionist handed me some papers on a clipboard and asked me to fill them out. I looked around the small waiting room and noticed that besides the receptionist, I was alone. I sat down, and as quickly as I could, filled out all the forms. I hesitated, then went ahead and used my legal name of Christopher. After I finished, I handed them back in and then sat down and waited a few minutes.
The solid oak door behind the receptionist opened and
a pudgy, bald guy sporting a thin mustache stepped out. He glanced up from some papers in his hand and looked at me. He said, “Mr. Davis? Will you step into my office, please?”
As I walked in, he directed me to sit down on the couch up against one wall. I thought the couches were just something Hollywood used. I glanced around the room and noticed the walls were festooned with various framed certificates, Rotary Club plaques, and… and I’m not joking… paintings of clowns.
After exchanging pleasantries and after he asked me some general questions about myself, Dr. Irrenarzt sat down at his desk. He continued to study a paper he was holding and tapped his nose with a pencil with his other hand. For several minutes all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, the sound of the leather couch as I squirmed and the creak of the shrink’s chair.
Finally, he set the paper down on his desk, but continued to study it as he said, “So, Mr. Davis. You feel you’re a woman trapped in a man’s body? How long have you felt this way?”
He’s certainly not wasting any time, I thought. I pondered his question for a moment, then answered, “I uh, I definitely started feeling that way around… uh… probably around the middle of December.”
The doctor arched an eyebrow and said, “Hmmm… December… that long, eh?” For the first time, he looked up at me and studied me a moment.
Before he could say anything else, I chimed in with, “I’ve been living as a girl since around the first part of October. I’m a cheerleader.”
Bringing the tips of his fingers together, Dr. Irrenarzt said, “I see. Well then, let me ask you a few very specific questions.”
“Shoot.”
“Have you had such feelings before?” asked the shrink.
Feeling my face redden at the memory, “Yes. A few years ago.”
Nodding, Dr. Irrenarzt asked, “And what was the situation then?”
I swallowed audibly, “A friend told me he’d give me fifty dollars to pretend to be his date at a party to get his old girlfriend jealous.”
“And this led you to believe you’re a woman in a man’s body?”
I shook my head and said, “Not right away. I dated another boy as a girl. He… he uh, thought I really was a girl. Then later that summer, the friend I mentioned and I started … uh, dating.”
“You dated at least two boys that summer? Did you date any other boys?” asked the shrink.
“No… ah, just those two.” I started to feel uncomfortable.
Dr. Irrenarzt started tapping his nose again with his pencil as he asked, “And what were your feelings towards these two boys?”
“That’s getting kinda personal,” I said, feeling embarrassed.
Sounding impatient, the Doc said, “I’m trying to get a general impression of who you are. Part of that is knowing about your relationships. Don’t worry. Anything you say in this office stays in this office. Unless you want to be a case study in the book I’m writing. Anyway, please tell me what your relationships were with these two boys.”
Forcing myself to speak, “The second guy was… ah… well… I did have a crush on, but he was… uh… someone I used to get back at my friend.”
“How involved were you with this second boy?” the doc probed.
I hesitated, “Just kissing.”
“Did you find that pleasant?” the shrink asked.
“Yes.” I said in a small voice.
Dr. Irrenarzt then asked, “What about your ‘friend’? It sounds like you may have had deeper feelings towards him, since you were trying to make him jealous.”
Deeper feelings for Ed?! Gag me! Staring at the floor, I said, “I don’t know about that. He still owed me the fifty dollars…” In fact, he still owes me, that rat bastard! “… and we had been friends for a long time…”
“And your involvement with him… was it similar to the other boy?” the doc asked, sitting straighter in his chair. I began to get the feeling he was getting off on this.
“Uh… yeah, kinda. We kissed. Okay, we kissed a lot. And…” My voice trailed away.
“And?”
“And…” I sat there a moment, not sure what to say. Suddenly I blurted out, “Okay… I gave him a blow job, okay?!”
Raising his hand, Dr. Irrenarzt said, “No need to raise your voice, Mr. Davis. Now, did you enjoy the experience?”
I looked down at the floor, the feelings of shame that I had finally exorcised started to return. In a low voice I whispered, “Yes.”
Dr. Irrenarzt glanced back at his paper and said, “And, with the exception of one Halloween before this episode and one Halloween between this episode and when you became a cheerleader, you had no further experiences crossdressing. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“You felt no compunction to dress as the opposite sex except for those few times?”
Feeling frustrated, I said, “That’s correct.”
Tapping his nose again, Dr. Irrenarzt said, “Mr. Davis, I’ll admit that I’ve never counseled a transgendered individual before, but I have sat in with colleagues who have. One striking contrast between them and you is that they have had a burning desire to be the opposite sex for as long as they can remember. You have only wanted to be a girl since December.”
“What’s your point, Doc?” I asked, my hopes for hormones evaporating.
He held up a hand and said, “I want to ask about your current relationships. Are you in a relationship now or have been since… let’s see… since October?”
“Yes.”
“Male or female?”
Sighing, I said, “Male.”
“And your feelings towards this male?”
I couldn’t hold back a slight smile as I thought about Jeff. I said, “I’m in love with him, okay? I’m totally, absolutely in love with him. If I could have his baby, I would.”
Shifting in his chair, Dr. Irrenarzt asked, “And is he aware of the fact that you’re not really female?”
“Yes!” I said, a little too loud. This shrink was really getting on my nerves. “He’s aware. He wasn’t at first, but he is now.”
“Sexual relations?” the doctor probed.
Sighing, I said, “Ah… well… just… just oral.”
Nodding, the doctor said, “You sound a little disappointed. Do you wish he’d go further?”
What’s with this guy? I said, “Well, yeah, I guess. I really wish our relationship would go deeper. But he won’t because I’m… I’m…”
“Yes?”
“…Dammit! Because I’m not a girl!”
Dr. Irrenarzt jotted down some notes and re-read them while I sat there in silence. He started tapping his forehead with his pencil instead of his nose.
Clearing his throat, Dr. Irrenarzt said, “Mr. Davis. While this is only our first session (and I think we should continue these), my initial analysis of your situation is that, quite frankly, you’re not suffering from the mental disorder of Gender Dysphoria, but rather you’re a homosexual in deep denial.”
“Gay?” I blurted. “I’m not gay! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but as a boy, I have no…”
Dr. Irrenarzt raised his hand and shot me a look that said, ‘I’m talking. Don’t interrupt!’
“If I may continue, I feel that if you were to just admit that you’re gay, not only to yourself but also to family and friends, you would be much happier and no longer feel the need to change your sex just so you can have relations with men. There is no longer the same stigma towards homosexuals as there once was, so you need feel no shame about being gay.”
“I’m not gay,” I asserted. “This is different. I can’t explain it exactly, but it’s different…”
“You should stand up right now and shout to the world ‘I am gay! I am gay and I feel no shame!’” Dr. Irrenarzt sat in his chair with his arms stretched into the air.
I just sat there, and stared him in disbelief.
“Go ahead,” urged the shrink. “Do it now. You’ll feel better and you can finally p
ut this behind you and get on with your life.”
* * *
“How did it go?” asked Mom, as I plopped onto the couch.
“It sucked.”
Mom got up from her seat at the kitchen counter where she had been busy working a crossword puzzle and pushed my legs off the couch so she could set next to me. “Why? What happened?”
I sat up and stretched my legs so my feet could rest on the coffee table. I didn’t say anything for a few moments, staring straight ahead. Finally, I turned my head towards Mom and said. “I’m gay, Mom. Yep… according to Dad’s shrink, I’m gay.”
Mom sat there and looked at me a moment, then said, “He gave you a diagnosis after one thirty minute session? How did he…?”
“He asked me about my relationships with boys and decided that since I had been ‘crossdressing’ only since October, he determined that I’m clearly not a girl. Here, he gave me a pamphlet about homosexuality.” I handed Mom the pamphlet Dr. Irrenarzt had given me on my way out the door.
Mom took it, but didn’t look at it, “I don’t understand. Even just sitting there in a sweatshirt and no make-up, I see a girl. Maybe you should have worn the dress I suggested.”
I folded my arms across my chest and said, “Maybe. But I don’t think it would have made a difference. But you know, Mom, there you go. One moment I’m your weird son that you don’t understand and the next moment you flatly state I’m a girl. I’m confused Mom. Am I just your goofy son whose brain is Swiss Cheese, am I your gay son, or am I your daughter? Who do you want me to be, because apparently I don’t know who I am.” I turned to stare at the wall.
Mom put her hand on my shoulder with voice rising a little, “Honey, do you have any idea what this has been like for your father and me? Any idea? At first we thought we had one daughter and one son. And everyone was fine with that. Then you start pretending to be a girl. Then you’re pretending to have a boyfriend. Next thing we know, you say you feel like you’re really a girl, and you’re really in love with your boyfriend. It’s been an emotional roller coaster, let me tell you!”
The Reluctant Prom Date (The Reluctant Series Book 4) Page 9
