After Life

Book Two: Purgatory

From Journeys and Transitions

by Melanie

Chapter 78

An Unexpected Visit

November 5, 2005

Gosh, my mood has changed so much to the positive in the last three days.  And for the life of me, I canít remember how it happened.  I just re-read my previous entry, and it sure seems like somebody else wrote it. 

I know that I kept thinking about how my old life was just an imagining, but instead of becoming an ongoing issue, it just kind of got accepted by me.  In the end, it was more of a fog lifting, or turning on a light at night to discover the terrifying monster in the corner was just the coat you forgot to hang up.

Once I saw the truth of my whole life laid out before me, it turned out to be nothing to fear after all.  And I could also clearly see how I could not possibly have lived such a life without being wholly female of mind and spirit, though I never really knew that until two weeks ago this very night when Teresa opened my mind to me, opened my true heart.

As my foul mood dissipated, the fresh sunshine of the wonder that life is supposed to be gradually replaced it.  And with the happier disposition came an unexpected side effect: I began to question whether or not I really needed the lip surgery.

Because my heart was full, I looked more like myself in the mirror.  The person staring out of those eyes far more closely resembled the person inside than ever before.  So, I stole many opportunities to check a glance at myself through this new filter, and was almost convinced to call Mira back up, as we cleaned up the house on Thursday morning in the expectation of the arrival of some special guests.

Teresa, since her surgery, has seen no one.  In fact, we chose this particular house to rent for its seclusion, so it could be used as a safe house for recovery.  But, a few days ago she contacted an old high-school buddy of hers Ė someone she was close to before her transition.

Strange, I hadnít wondered until I just wrote the last paragraph how Teresa managed to get a current email address for someone who knew her in school long before her transition.  So I just asked her, and she said that she had signed up at classmates.com under her old male name to see if she could find some favorite friends who could deal with her new self.

Good plan!  I may have to try that one myself.

In any event, she contacted M some four years ago, under he old male name, but only recently told him of her transition, and left her phone number.  He called, and they had a wonderful (and quite long) conversation.  He seemed quite accepting, and in fact, after a couple more calls, they arranged for him and the lady in his life to visit us on Thursday (the 3rd).

M and N arrived on time at 11:00.  I left Teresa to open the door, and she and M got their first look at each other in thirty years!  Both, of course, had changed.  And, much to each of their surprises, they both warmly accepted each other as they are now, and simply re-evaluated who they had supposed each other to be so many years ago.

What we had all expected to be a short visit turn out to last over six hours.  We ended up serving snacks and then food, catching up on all of our lives, talking philosophy, religion, politics, watching a few things on the big screen TV, and really growing quite close.

I had intended to take N aside at some point to give Teresa and M time alone to reconnect.  But as it turned out, N and I struck it off so well that we just went off on our own several times so that we could talk!

Now, one of the handicaps I have suffered under all my life is the inability to make friends.  I do well in front of a group of 500 people, and do fine in groups of a few, but put me one on one with any individual of any gender, and I just canít seem to get past that barrier that separated acquaintance from friend.

But in light of my rethinking of what my past life really meant, and the confidence borne of the discovery of my true heart, that barrier no longer existed for me that day.  I couldnít even see it any more.  Rather, I grew very close to both N and M, and at the end of the day, we all agreed we must get together again soon!

Afterward, Teresa was in shock.  She was actually having serious trouble believing that M had truly seen her as a woman and accepted her as that, while still remaining friends.  I had a similar experience several years ago, some time after I was with Teresa, when my very best friend from high school came through town and spent a day with me with much the same results.

It turns out that M and N practice a free-spirited life, one which is open and accepting to all those who practice true compassion and love, and so, they had been as nervous as we that they might be rejected for the non-conventional course they chart.

In the end, a mutual respect and acceptance led to the rekindling of friendship with her long lost school mate, and I gained two new friends in the process.

When they left, we had almost run out of fuel for the pellet stove in our rented house, and it was near closing time at the only place in town that carried them.  So, I raced out of the house and went to pick some up.

There, at the hardware store, I went to the counter and ordered six bags.  I was feeling so complete after such a wonderfully accepting afternoon.  And guess what!  I got soft-clocked again!

Now, I was wearing some particularly cool new earrings Ė thin cold affairs studded with fake diamonds, each curves in a graceful extended ďSĒ shape.  It could have been those that caught the counter girlís attention, but Iíll never know.  I had to get my credit card out of my purse, and when I looked up, I could see in my peripheral vision that she had been staring at me (or what it at my earrings?).

Well, I arrived home, somewhat deflated by this turn of events, especially after such a fine day.  And looking in the mirror, though I still felt that perhaps I didnít really need the surgery, I came to the conclusion that if I donít get it, Iíll always wonder about those soft-reads, but if I do get it, I will look so much more feminine of face that I wonít be able to help but assume it was the earrings.

And I want that.  Iím tired of worrying.  I never lost that fear no matter how good I looked or how little trouble I had.  I want it gone.  And so, 31 days from today, Iíll close my eyes and alter my looks as well.

Friday was a wonderful day.  Nothing much happened, but boy did I feel good about myself.  It was almost as if knowing that I was fully committed to the surgery made me feel about myself as if it had already happened.   And it is a feeling I really like.

Teresa, however, was totally wasted from the long visit.  After all, she is only 2 Ĺ weeks out of surgery.  She was so tired, and her head and jaw ached so much from the exertion and the almost constant talking and laughing of the previous day.

Still and all, by bedtime, she had regained much of her energy, and by virtue of a pill, had left much of the pain behind as well, albeit temporarily.  When I joined her in bed, we clasped hands, and then we started petting each otherís arms.   Things progressed, and for two hours we both enjoyed the best sex of our lives.

I had always been rather auto-erotic, both before and after SRS.  I either indulged in fantasies of being female, or later when I was, imaging myself being made love to.  But in all those years (and Iím 52 right now, though look a lot younger), I had never made love where my focus was fully on my partner and his or her body as a sexual object that turned me on.

But last night, my god!  We both became so focused on each other, yet so sensitive in our own bodies, that it was like a feeding frenzy of sensual experience.  And all of it was totally female, totally feminine, fully expressing our true natures with a love we could so trust that we left up no protections, no barriers, walls, or fallback positions.

And yet, as amazing as that was Ė as far beyond anything I had ever imagined Ė I am now sure that it is just the beginning of what we will enjoy in the years to come.

Today, then, was a quiet Saturday.  I did a little business on the computer, cleaned up around the house, showered, dressed, went to the store.  And this time, I didnít have any incidents at all.  No second glances, no soft-clockings, just an enjoyable shopping trip and a pleasant conversation at the counter.

Teresa has noted that although I have been feminine since transition (and since she has known me), that since I opened up to myself two weeks ago, and am now exploring and embracing my self, there is a truth to my manner, not just a style.  And she says that is what seems now to be preventing the soft-read.

Still, I know that no matter how pure of heart you may be, if you look like the Elephant Man, you ainít gonna slip through society unnoticed.   Nonetheless, the more centered in your true self you are, the less amplification you give to those attributes that might get you read.  And perhaps, you might even overcome some of them, just by the sheer force of your spirit.

In any event, surgery is still on schedule Ė either to make me unreadable, make me less readable, or just make me prettier.  Certainly, it will soften some of the ďcareer womanĒ charisma Iíve banked my vocation on, and replace it with a more vulnerable, less authoritarian aura.  But you know, no matter how much of an external crutch it is, there is definitely something to be said for making changes you canít take back that prevent you from ever being seen as a man again, even to yourself.  No matter how truly female your heart really is, knowing that you are now trapped forever physically as a real girl, and there is nothing you can do about it, well, suffice it to say that the feeling is emotionally orgasmic and physically stimulating.

But you probably knew that already.

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