We Can Work It Out: A MORFS Universe Story
By Terry Volkirch
Breakfast helped give me the energy I needed. I made it to the car well enough
at least. I didn't need help. That was a relief. There was only one problem. I
had to walk like a girl.
I tried moving like I normally did but even with the sport bra, my breasts bounced too much for my taste. I ended up taking smaller steps. That helped but then my hips swayed more. I couldn't win. I felt every staring pair of male eyes on my back side as I slowly made my way to the parking lot.
Our dull little gray car matched the sky and my mood. It was a perfect color coordinated moment I'll never forget. I stood on the passenger side, trying to will myself invisible while waiting for my mom to unlock the door.
Once safely inside our vehicle, I amused my mother by fighting the shoulder strap of the seat belt. It brushed against my breasts and set off some feelings I didn't want to deal with at the moment. I ended up holding the strap away from my chest.
"Can we go now?" I asked, slightly annoyed that my mother was watching me instead of driving home.
"I'm sorry, dear. I keep forgetting you have a lot to get used to. Even little things can be difficult, and they add up. Just remember that you'll always have me to help you."
With that, she pulled out of the parking lot and made for home. It was good she kept her eyes on the road. I didn't want her to see me cry. Her little speech really touched me, albeit in a good way. Being more emotional was just one more of those little things I'd be getting used to.
There wasn't much said on the way home. I was lost and simply waiting for guidance, whereas my mother seemed to have a lot on her mind, in addition to driving. Driving always stressed her out but she was even less talkative than normal. Luckily, the ride wasn't long. We pulled into the driveway and waited for the automatic garage door to open, then drove inside. As I got out of the car, I turned to watch the garage door close, likening it to the end of my boyhood. I could only go forward now, into the house and into my life as a girl.
"Welcome home," my mom said with a big smile. "Want to help me with lunch?"
"Sure," I said, blushing a little. I felt a little guilty that I'd never helped out in the kitchen before. There was no reason for me not to help, even when I was a boy, so of course I agreed. I vowed to never take advantage of my mom again.
Lunch was nice - even the preparation. We made up for our silence on the way home and time passed quickly. It was good to finally catch up on everything that had happened while I was in the hospital.
"So what about school?" I had to ask. I missed school. Learning was actually fun. It was my life, really. I didn't have much else. There weren't many people I could call friends. I was too shy to easily meet people so I just buried my face in books. I read far ahead in my text books and did very well in school.
"Actually, the hospital recommends you take it easy for a day or two, and I'm sure Gwen would like to see you again before you go back. I was thinking of making an appointment for you on Monday. She'll want to make sure you're ready."
"Okay," I said with obvious disappointment.
"Besides," she added a little hesitantly, "you can't go back to school tomorrow. We've got to go shopping. You need a whole new wardrobe."
"That's right. I can't very well wear what I've got in my room now, can I. Perhaps we can go tomorrow for a short time if I'm feeling okay. I expect I'll need a lot of clothes."
That surprised her. She didn't expect me to agree so quickly and easily, but being home made me feel more secure. In spite of some intermittent self-doubt, I felt my determination surging. I could be a girl. I would be a girl. How hard could it be? I should be back to school by next Tuesday. Then I'd show everyone.
* * *
It was only a few hours before I got my first taste of how hard it was to be a girl. My best friend got home from school and came by to check up on me. My mom told me he'd called and that she'd told him about me. I hadn't thought about what I'd say to him but I had her let him in anyway. I assured her I was a big girl. I could take care of myself.
"Hi John," I said quietly as he entered my room.
I sat on my bed and looked intently at his face for some reaction but I couldn't read him. I feared he was in shock. As I continued to watch him, I noticed that his tall, slender build, black hair and green eyes reminded me of my dad. Why hadn't I noticed that before? It was probably because their personalities were polar opposite. John was quiet and soft-spoken. He always chose his words carefully and was unusually caring and compassionate for a teenage boy. That's one of the reasons why I liked him so much.
Over a minute went by before he could speak. I figured he was thinking of all the right things to say. I wish he would've waited longer.
"Dude, you're hot!" he blurted out. There was no shame. I only saw lust and hope in his eyes. So much for choosing his words carefully. I didn't expect anything like that. I was hoping for acceptance but this was a bit more - too much more.
"Yeah," he continued. "I called several times while you were in the hospital. You're mom told me you'd changed into a girl, but I didn't expect you to be so hot."
"Uh... thanks," was all I could think of to say. I looked at John's feet now, trying not to blush.
"Man, I'm sorry for staring." John really was a nice guy, but he was a guy. There would probably always be sexual tension if he found me attractive, even if I was a lesbian.
"This is really strange," he continued. "I know you're still you, but right now, it's impossible for me to think of you as anything but a girl I'd like to date."
"I... understand," I said, and I truly did. If I was in his shoes, I'm sure I'd feel the same way.
"Listen, I need to think about this. I should go."
"Okay," I sniffed. It was hard to keep the tears away but I didn't want to break down in front of my friend. Somehow I succeeded.
"Can I call you tomorrow?" I remained hopeful in spite of the direction our conversation was obviously heading.
"I'm sorry but it might take awhile," he replied softly.
I nodded and silently led him to the front door, watching as he slowly walked out with his head down. After the door was safely closed and the outside world was shut out, I ran up to my room, dove for my bed and cried my eyes out.
My tears were bitter. John greatly disappointed me. I hoped he could handle my change but he turned and ran. Some friend he turned out to be, I thought. It was selfish of me at the time. I needed support and expected him to be there for me in spite of his attraction to me. I didn't consider his feelings. All I could do was cry for my loss.
I was left alone until my sobbing died down. My mother came in later and hugged me without a word. We'd been chatty all afternoon, and perhaps she could've consoled me eventually with some words of wisdom, but she knew what I needed most at the time. A hug is worth a thousand words, and takes a lot less time.
My mom probably would've held me all night. I couldn't have that so I broke the hug. Enough time went by that my emotional wounds stopped bleeding. I wanted to move on. All I needed was a distraction - a major distraction.
"Will you teach me about periods?"
After my mother stopped choking, I convinced her I was serious about wanting to make the best of things and accept my situation, so she led me to the bathroom to begin my education. I'll never forget her lesson in feminine hygiene. She covered periods and threw in a couple related issues that I'd rather not go into. I'd never felt so much anxiety over something that was so natural. I guess menstruation made me think about other related things, like pregnancy. I hadn't had my first period yet but the doctors had examined me while I was unconscious. There was no doubt I was all girl. I'd be able to have a baby if I wanted. It was way too soon to be thinking about marriage and children but who knows. Maybe someday, I might want to raise a child.
I had very little idea how to be a girl so my mother would be teaching me a lot over the next several days. That much was clear. It was a bit overwhelming to think of all I'd have to learn. With the anxiety I felt and the loss of my best friend, my earlier determination to adjust felt like it was draining away. It was a good thing I also had my father to depend on.
* * *
I didn't hear my father get home from work. He was still in a quiet funk about my gender change. The first I realized he was home was when he called a family meeting.
As I descended the stairs and entered the living room, I wondered what he thought about me and figured I was about to find out. I knew how he felt about the subject in general. He was painfully loud and clear about it. The family meeting must have something to do with my change. Hopefully the discussion wouldn't involve packing boxes and moving vans.
My father and I sat opposite each other in silence and waited for my mother to finish in the bathroom. My father sat on what I liked to call his throne. It was actually a black leather recliner, and it was his pride and joy. From it, he lorded over the household, loudly making his various proclamations. When he sat there, there was to be no questioning of his authority.
His eyes burned into me with a strange intensity, making me feel uncomfortable. I didn't like or appreciate it at all. I glared back defiantly, expecting him to go ballistic, and got the most amazing reaction instead. He smiled and nodded slightly, like he approved of me! This was definitely going to be an interesting meeting.
I could tell my mother was nervous when she sat down next to me on our black leather couch. Her hands were still a little wet, and they trembled slightly. I reached over and held them, earning a thankful little smile from her.
Normally, my father would start the meeting. We didn't have them very often but when we did, he liked to open with a short, polished speech that was obviously well rehearsed, and always boring. This time, I didn't wait.
"So what's this all about, dad? Please tell me we're not moving. I'm not about to slink out of town with my tail between my legs."
My mother gasped at my outburst but my father just gave me another approving smile. I think he was actually proud of me.
"That's just what I wanted to hear," he said. "That's my... girl."
He almost slipped up - almost. I think I would've stormed out of the room if he'd call me a boy. As it was, I was happy and proud. This was the most praise I'd gotten from my father in a long time.
"I was going to give a little speech," he continued in spite of my audible groan, "but let's cut to the heart of the matter. Forgetting the sex change for the moment, Bobbi isn't so different. I've been looking around and I've noticed lots of teenage girls with oddly colored hair."
"Thanks, daddy!" I suddenly blurted out. I couldn't help it. It's like my head was full of things to say and I had to get rid of some of them. I was never talkative as a boy but now I never seemed to be at a loss for words.
My father was a bit flustered by the interruption. He wasn't used to being interrupted. I don't think my term of endearment helped either. If I thought it would help, I'd tell him that it certainly surprised the heck out of me.
"Okay...," he said. "You're welcome, Bobbi. Now let me finish. I wanted to say that if Bobbi had always been a girl, then her new look definitely wouldn't be a problem. So that just leaves the sex change."
"Gender change, dear," my mother cut in.
"What?" Now my father was good and truly flustered. This family meeting was unprecedented. There had never been so many interruptions.
"I believe gender change is the appropriate way of referring to our daughter's change in gender," my mother corrected in her own polite way.
My father paused to consider my mother's words. It looked like it might be two against one now. The familial dynamics were definitely changing - for the better. We were moving from a dictatorship to a partnership.
"Right," he finally said. "You're right. Now then. The way I see it, Bobbi's gender change could still be a problem. I...," at this point he paused again. I'm sure it had something to do with his planned speech. I think our interaction threw him off. We were actually having a dialog, rather than the usual monolog.
"Well," he continued as he looked at me. "I was going to say we could move to the other school district in town, but you said you weren't interested in moving."
I was about to correct his watered down paraphrasing but he cut me off this time.
"Uh uh. It's my turn. Let me say something now, Bobbi." The fire was back in my father's eyes now so I let him finish. "If you want us to stay here, you're going to have to be all girl. I'll support you in any way I can but from now on, I'm going to act like you were always a girl. We've made a good home here and I'll be damned if we'll be forced out of town but a bunch of ignorant bastards."
My mother and I turned to look at each other and gave each other a knowing smile. It looked like it really was true. Women were always a step ahead of men, at least when it came to family matters. I'd already decided to be the best girl I could be and now my father was basically supporting my decision. It might be late but it was nice to know I could count on my dear old dad.
"Thanks, dad," I said with my best warm smile. "Now mother, how about I help you with dinner. I don't know about you but I'm starving."
"Good idea, dear," she responded. Then she got up and rewarded father with a quick kiss before leading the way out to the kitchen.
Dinner went well that night. We all had a serious but nice conversation, and I learned some things I should've found out long ago. I began to realize that my father's loud ranting about MORFS were mostly because he didn't like the resulting discrimination and violence. I always thought he embraced our town's way of life but I was wrong. I never really listened to what he said. Only the loudness registered. I had to chuckle to myself then. I thought maybe he should cut down on coffee. Maybe that's why he was so angry and agitated all the time. He needed to relax.
So now both of my parents were vastly improved in my eyes. I could feel a strong bond forming between my father and me, and my mother was becoming a wonderful role model. All it took was a change of gender and our family was healthier than ever.
There wasn't much on television that night but I stayed with my parents after dinner to watch for an hour or two. I was basically stalling. I wasn't looking forward to my scheduled meltdown. Thankfully there was no recent bad news related to MORFS so my father remained calm. We all talked during the TV commercials and continued to bond. It was great while it lasted.
Eventually, my weakened condition caught up with me and I called it an early night, after assuring my mother that I could handle getting ready for bed by myself that is. It might have been nice to have her to talk to but I didn't want her to see me cry. I wanted her to think I was strong. We all said goodnight and I slowly trudged up the stairs to my room.
I found some pale blue pajamas laid out on my bed. My mother must have put them there before coming down for the family meeting. I silently thanked her and started to undress. That's when the smell hit me. There was no way I was going to bed without a shower first. They probably gave me sponge baths in the hospital but I still felt grimy and my lovely colored hair was a greasy, tangled mess. Yuck!
I carried my pajamas into the bathroom and finished undressing. The idea of being alone and nude in the shower would've created a lot of anxiety if I wasn't so tired. As it was, I barely had energy to wash myself. The increased sensitivity of my skin was noticed enough that I was more gentle with the washing and drying. That's about all I remember. I quickly slipped into the pajamas and cleaned my teeth to finish getting ready for a long sleep.
When I finally crawled into bed, my body felt extremely tired but I had some issues to deal with before I could sleep. My mind was too active. It was time to absorb the enormity of all of the events of the past week and wait for the tears to come. It was to be a very long wait.
As I laid in bed and pondered, I didn't feel like crying at all. All I could think about was how much worse my life could've been - how much more I could've changed. Life had been unfair and would continue to be unfair. That's the way things would always be. Then again, perhaps I was all cried out. I had shed a lot of tears throughout the day. Whatever the reason, I didn't cry. Instead I smiled as I drifted off to sleep. I smiled at the love I felt for my parents and I smiled because I was proud of myself. I was well on my way to accepting life as a girl.
To Be Continued...
The entire MORFS Universe can be found at http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/