Chapter 18.5
It was remarkable, there were still niggles in the back of my mind, doubts still questioning if I was really trans or rather, if I was trans enough. I’d settled that I definitely wasn’t cis, but there remained this feeling that I was just in it for the amazing orgasms, that I’d somehow tricked myself into feeling this way. my therapy session was tomorrow, and that no doubt played into my unease. If I hadn’t been so exhausted I would have stayed up worrying, sleep however was not far away, setting an alarm and shortly after laying on my pillow unable to keep my eyes open.
The incessant beeping cut into a rather vivid dream; laying on a beach, the sound of the sea, looking up to bright blue skies and palm trees, Ellie leaning over me and feeling an all-consuming surge of affection as well as a pressure down below, the sun behind her making it seem like she had a halo, my body alight and on the brink. I angrily rolled over and jabbed at my phone to kill the alarm, annoyed it had ripped me from dreamland.
Rolling back, closing my eyes hoping I could go back there but it was just a remanence of what I’d seen, nothing remained but the stubborn flag pole in my panties. Rubbing my face to pull me from my slumber I sat, suddenly realising today was the first session of therapy. It would likely be just introductions and a long chat rather than getting fully stuck in, but this was going to be the first time I was going to tell someone I didn’t know that I was trans.
Not wanting to leave the comfort of my bed I fretted with the edge of the duvet, I knew I needed to do this, but there was a sudden realisation of how real my situation was, how this was a step I absolutely had to take, but it was into the unknown. Ellie had sent me links to web pages and sub Reddits for info that would help me, but I hadn’t read any of it, I guess in a way trying to put off fully accepting myself.
Shaking my head and taking a deep breath I forced the covers away and numbly did my morning routine, feeling slightly better after brushing my teeth and slightly less anxious after an extended session of yoga. I could barely stomach breakfast but knew I needed to force something down.
I sat fidgeting on the sofa, second cup of camomile tea in hand which still wasn’t enough to calm my nerves. I’d fired off a message to Ellie but she hadn’t received it yet, she was either still in bed, or busy. I just needed a little pep talk, a boost to help me get ready. Someone to say it was going to be OK and I didn’t need to worry.
Thinking about it triggered the song she had played for me the day after my breakdown. I scrolled through the playlist Ellie had found, ‘Dry The Rain’, that was it. As the opening bars played out over the speakers I sat back and tried to relax, closing my eyes and controlling my breathing, consciously easing my tense muscles with each out breath.
As the line played ‘If there’s something inside that you want to say. Say it out loud it’ll be okay’ I repeated it in my mind, gradually feeling myself calm. My eyes might have been watering a little as it brought back that recent memory, but with it came the feeling that things were going to be okay, I was going to be okay.
As the song finished, I set it to play again and wandered over to the window. My flat didn’t have a great view, but I could see down the tree lined street, people going about their business and I just repeated in my mind that if all of them could be OK so could I, Therapy was going to help me, it was going to make this better and I just needed to trust it.
I barely even noticed the song finishing before it moved onto something else in the playlist and I shut it off, I had a little while before the call and got myself ready. I went to the bathroom to freshen up but found myself applying a little mascara, then some eyeliner, a hint of blush and a splash of pink lip-gloss. I crinkled my nose at the reflection, why couldn’t I just be me, that should be enough shouldn’t it? but I just couldn’t do it, I needed something to make sure she saw me as a woman, even if my face underneath was unchanged and less convincing.
My phone beeped with a 5 minute alarm that I’d set, huffing slightly as I left the bathroom, changing out of my yoga gear and into something baggy and comfortable I sat at my computer, automatically switching on all the lights and firing up the webcam. Nervously I clicked the meeting link and sat waiting for the therapist to join. It felt like an age but eventually the screen changed and her image appeared next to mine.
Janet was actually really lovely, I’d guess at mid to late 50s, softly spoken yet lively, greying hair but with big bold glasses and chunky accessories. After an initial introduction where she outlined the type of therapy she worked through, I gave her a whistle stop summary of where I was at. I did leave out the explicit parts of my camming and just presented it as game streaming to explain the transition. I wasn’t sure if she bought that, especially as I’d automatically switched all my lights on initially, so I was lit up and framed a little too well.
She let me freewheel for a while as I rambled through, I spoke about meeting with Marc in the park, how our runs became a regular thing and how I leant into the online persona I’d developed, but found myself being that girl more than my old self. I didn’t go into all the details of our woodland escapade, but I think she got the jist.
I had to stop several times as I recalled the breakdown, in part because those memories were still broken, never returning with all I’d had to drink, but also because I’d sort of compartmentalised it to keep going, I’d set it aside, and now it was all coming back.
Janet was perfect though, her tone of voice, the things she said just helped to keep me moving through it, never labouring too long on one feeling or aspect of my trauma. She was able to quickly pull me through and have me talking about something else which diverted my emotions.
The two hours flew by, we covered all of my upbringing, without realising it there were several more instances of me displaying a different gender preference as a child, as she highlighted them they weren’t even that subtle, I couldn’t believe I’d been so oblivious. As a young adult there were even more, little things about how I felt about girlfriends, how I saw myself. She’d identified a whole list of things about me growing up and prior to the journey I’d started since camming, it wasn’t just a few isolated minor incidents.
As she began to summarise the call, and outline how our future sessions would look like she asked me a question. “If I said you definitely weren’t transgender, how would you feel about that?”. I stared at her, internally my gears crunching, I could feel my face frowning, “how could I not be?” I asked, continuing “I know I’ve had my struggles, there are still doubts, but I quit my job, the thought of going back to that life fills me with dread” I carried on rambling, suddenly my conviction of being trans rising, indignant that it might be questioned.
After a while she raised her hand and I stopped talking, she was smiling warmly “You don’t need to justify yourself with me, I already have enough to believe you. That was a question I always like to ask because sometimes people will actually be OK with me saying it, which can indicate they might be somewhere else on the gender spectrum, it also helps me to know how to proceed.”
We spoke for a little longer about the options, about the outcomes, she probed lightly about hormone treatments and surgeries. None of it done with an imposing tone but it gave me plenty to think about. The overriding feeling she left me with though was acceptance. At no point had she invalidated me, or told me I was stupid for thinking or feeling the way I did.
I had been really worried I just felt like this because of the adoration I got when on camera, that it was being reinforced from that and not because it was something I truly wanted. But she’d helped settle those concerns, highlighted the incidents through my life, the hints towards dysmorphia, extracted thoughts and underlying trends that had always been there.
We set up a regular schedule to talk, and as we hung up I sighed deeply, sitting back in my chair. I was exhausted, mentally drained like I’d run a marathon in my mind, but I also had this sense of contentment, I wasn’t going crazy or losing my mind, my feelings were valid, this was going to be a long journey, but I was going to be OK.
I fired off a voice note to Ellie, there was far too much to talk about that I couldn’t type, I babbled and rambled for most of it, but I had this weird sense of excitement and peace. I was trans, and that could still mean lots of things, it wasn’t a fixed box that I had to conform to and it would continue to change over the months and years as I discovered more about myself.
But overall, and most importantly, I was going to be OK, I just had to keep going. Janet had been blunt at points, making sure I was fully aware that society was far more accepting than it had been in the past, but I would not be without struggles and challenges. There were always those who wanted people like me to not exist and out in the real world I would perhaps have to pay a bit more attention than I had been doing.
I’d been sitting lost in my thoughts for longer than I realised, as the doorbell ringing snapped me back to reality. I absentmindedly got up to answer it to find my usual delivery man standing there with a parcel. Behind his mask I could see his face smile “Hi, I’ve got a delivery for you, not seen you in a while, I hope you’ve been ok” as his arms passed over a package.
Still not fully with it I replied “yeah, ive been ok, going through some stuff, I was ill last week but it wasn’t Covid so not too bad”. Perhaps a bit of an understatement, but I hardly had capacity to phrase it any other way. Taking the parcel and going to close the door he added “Well look after yourself and keep safe”. “I’ll try to” I replied, watching through the closing gap as he turned and walked down the street.
I really wasn’t with it, I couldn’t even remember ordering anything, suddenly my mind flashed that it could be Biggies package, only it was too small. I looked on the label and realised it was something I bought, the new inserts!
With a little more enthusiasm I went back to my flat, as I dropped the parcel on the bed I caught my reflection in the mirror. Oh god! The delivery guy had seen me like this. Loose fitting hoodie, sweatpants, partial makup on my face that had clearly been smudged when I cried during therapy, my eyes still puffy. I cringed and then recalled his expression.
OK, so I couldn’t really tell what he thought, but recalling what he said he had been concerned more than anything, and happy to see me. There was that at least. Shaking those thoughts from my mind my attention returned to the box, ripping the tab to open it, removing the pack filling and pulling the silicone globes out.
Removing them from the packaging I marvelled at their shape and detail. They were far more superior to the ones I had, which they should have been considering how much I paid. They had a texture and colour which made them so very lifelike, the edges were far thinner than the others I had as well, so I knew they would blend in perfectly with my skin tone.
Suddenly my malaise past, replaced by excitement, removing my hoodie, I fetched one of my more understated bras, slipped it on and added the forms. Immediately they looked and felt right. Stepping back in front of the mirror I ignored my less than ideal face and took in my chest
Twisting left and right I couldn’t help but feel giddy, they looked just right, not too big like the forms I already had, and in proportion to the rest of me. Wasting no time I moved to the bathroom, stripped off and did my best job to attach them with adhesive. I marvelled as it dried and the seams were barely visible even without makeup.
I loved their shape, they hung so naturally, the silicone far more pliable than any of the others I had, as I twisted and bounced a little they swayed and jiggled as if they were almost natural. My cheeks flushed red and my body bloomed with goosebumps, I just couldn’t believe how right they looked on me, even if the nipples were a bit more prominent than I’d like.
Grabbing my phone I snapped several shots, sending them to Ellie, I knew she’d want a preview, and I had to show them off to someone. And then rifling through my tops to show how well they fit me. A flurry of replied came, she insisted I wore them to the spa, I had to voice some concerns about how they would survive the steam rooms, but I had to admit they looked amazing in the two swimsuits I had.