It all started with a Hen Night

12 My Secret Discovered

I'd done a few cash in hand jobs, cleaning, typing and driving, giving me time to look for something permanent. I liked my life as the woman I wanted to be. Odd as it may seem but free from Kelly's influence, I was becoming more feminine. One morning, returning from the shared bathroom, Penny and I muttered "Good morning," to each other going to and from the bathroom. That evening when I got home, there was a note from Penny, inviting me to share a bottle of wine with her that night.

I'll admit that I made more of an effort than usual, getting ready that evening. I hadn't made any friends, since moving, so wanted to be at my best. Bottle of white wine in hand, I knocked on her door. Opening the door she invited me in, her room was similar to mine but had a much more homely feel. As well as the wine she'd laid on some tasty nibbles. We sat and chatted, I found out that she was also looking for somewhere more permanent to live. She worked as a checkout girl in a supermarket and to make extra money she was also an 'exotic dancer' in a 'gentleman's club'. By the time we were into our second bottle, we were like old friends.

"Pauline, can I suggest you wear a dressing gown when you go to the bathroom."

"What! Why?" I said with a sinking feeling.

"Now, don't get upset, but I noticed an outline in your pyjama bottoms that wasn't exactly feminine."

Turning bright red, I wanted to escape, but she held onto me.

"Shhh, shhh, if you want to live as a woman, it's fine by me. As far as I'm concerned you are a woman, but it might be better if Frances, across the way, or any of the others in the house didn't know."

That night, back in my room, the floodgates opened. I'd been so used to living with Kelly or on my own, that I hadn't given a thought about what it would be like sharing a house with people I didn't know. Then the hen night came to mind. When little Carol had rescued me from some unwanted attention, she'd said: "why don't you try a real woman?" At the time I was grateful, but now the comment felt like a criticism and an insult. I slept fitfully, tossing, turning and dreaming. By the morning I couldn't remember the dream but had a sense that I was having sex. I even woke during the night, with a pillow clutched between my spread legs.

All-day my mind was in turmoil. When I'd woken that morning, I was confused, even mortified at the sight of my body. How could I live like this? I needed to talk to someone. Penny was the nearest, could I call her a friend? When she got home that night, I almost pounced on her in my desperation to unburden myself. She let me talk, only questioning to tease out my feelings about my life. I told her I'd always been considered, to use my father's sneering words, "an effeminate nancy boy, always playing girly games with the girls". As I progressed through school even the girls started calling me weird. I heard people call me gay, a pansy, a bum boy, but I wasn't. I didn't fancy boys. I liked to look at the way girls moved, dressed, how they did their makeup and hair, wishing it was me, but never having the courage. I was afraid of rejection, ridicule, discovery or something worse. So when I was invited to a hen night, it was just the excuse I needed. It was magical, once over the initial nervousness, I felt different. I felt sexy, confident, and that this was the real me. I put up some resistance along my journey, but only because I thought it was expected. It didn't take long before I wanted to be dressed permanently, I couldn't turn back, I tried, but it just wasn't me.

"Penny, tell me honestly, do I look like a woman or a man in a dress?"

"Oh Pauline, I always thought of you as a woman. Even the morning I saw you in your pyjamas with no makeup and that outline. From what you've told me, mentally, you are a woman regardless of what's between your legs."

This was the talk that had been long overdue and Penny hadn't been judgmental, she seemed to understand my struggle.

"Do you think I should have G R S? Would I be happier with a vulva, a vagina? Would I regret doing it, or not doing it?"

"That I can't answer, you need to find a group who have gone, or are going, through what you are contemplating."

Aware that I'd kept her too long, she hadn't even been home yet, I said, "if you want to go and freshen up, I'll make us something to eat. Pasta be OK? It'll be about 20 minutes."