Tori: Holiday Report

The last you heard from me, things were not great with Boy-X. The relationship, compared to the passion I have felt in the past, felt like a flatline. It was nice to have someone to think of, to look forward to seeing, and to be intimate with, but I didn't feel special about him. I took a stand, let him know I wasn't feeling it, and walked away. He was hurt, he tried everything to convince me to stay, but I was back to the single life. I felt both strong for sticking up for what I wanted, and guilty for hurting him.

Then I spent the holidays single, decided I didn't want to be alone, and texted him, got back to square one, and had to break up with him all over again.

It was a pretty rough couple of months and I probably wasn't in any place to be attempting to force a relationship. Let me tell you about it.

It was Thanksgiving, and Mae was back from college. She brought her new boyfriend, who is a clean-cut little darling. I say new, only in that I haven't seen them together much, but they've been together a while and are living together. (Perhaps jealousy of my little sister is a factor.) Also present were my older brother Ken, his darling wife, and their two (yes now two!) kids. Suddenly I'm feeling like the screwup in the middle, made worse by the fact that I happen to be, in terms of real life experience, older than either of them.

But okay. That's fleeting. No big deal. I'm a pretty-together chick, I've got a fulfilling job and some friends, I still felt relatively stable in my identity despite being surrounded by happy couples.

Then there was this moment that gutted me. And I'm gonna try to explain it as best I can, because I've been spinning it over in my head since it happened.

While Mae was over, we went through some of her old stuff, looking for boxes and knickknacks she wanted to bring to her new home. We started making piles of keeps and donates. Pretty much all the clothes wound up in the donate pile, because she was chubby in high school and has lost a good amount of weight while away from home (she did get the Freshman 15, but worked hard to lose it, plus an extra 20 or 30. Now she's fricking gorgeous.) She marveled at how much had changed in a few years as she tossed aside gifts I had given her back when I worked in intimate apparels and I looked sadly at it as a physical manifestation of the passage of time.

She examined this worn out pair of jeans, calling them "fat pants." I assured her she wasn't "fat" then and she said that standing next to me she felt like a cow, and how I never used to let her forget that I was the hot one.

She started referring to it as my "old personality." My "old self."

I asked if the change was that noticeable. She said yeah, we used to fight a lot, but around the time she turned 17 I started to respect her more and that let her mature too. I said I was glad to have a positive impact on her, and she said "Yeah, you did, eventually."

Then she said "I just wish I knew why that happened."

I looked at her for what must have seemed like an hour, but probably was just a minute, trying to formulate an answer. I knew the truth of course, but I was trying to come up with a response that would make sense to her.

"I just saw what a good person you were becoming and decided to grow up a bit myself," I said.

She gave my this narrow-eyed stare. "It's like you don't even remember how things were. How bad you and I didn't get along when I was 12, 13, 14. Things you did to me, things you said."

"I remember," I said, which was a lie since I only remembered the side Tori shared with her diary, which I hadn't read in years. (Obviously it was skewed towards her but you could tell it was a lot of petty sisterly sniping.) "I feel too guilty to talk about it. I'm embarrassed. I like to pretend I was never like that."

"Sure, yeah," she sighed. "I guess I don't like that you act like it never happened, like we've always been bff's."

"I know we haven't," I said, feeling like I was on slippery ground myself. "There's no reason why it changed, people just do that sometimes. They get over themselves."

I couldn't let go, though, so I had to ask: "Why do you think something happened?"

"It's stupid," she laughed at herself a bit, "I don't even know if you'd remember this, but one time you took this trip up to New England, with some older guy you were seeing, and when you came back, you were... I dunno, in a daze or something. I didn't notice at the time, but years later, when I tried to think of when and why we became close, it came back to around that time, and how you started changing things about your life after that. I always wondered what happened up there? You never saw that guy again and never talked about it. And if it's nothing, or if you really don't want to talk about it, it's fine, I just thought I'd let you know that I saw something in you there that seems... odd. I guess, now that I look back. I don't know, forget I brought it up."

I felt like I had been hit in the face. All these years later, Mae had put the evidence together and drawn the conclusion that Rob Garcia had done something to me - done something to her sister - and while I don't know much about the real Rob Garcia, I know that wasn't the case. I felt like I had to correct her, but...

Well, when this first happened to me, I was told that I couldn't tell anybody, that they wouldn't believe me. I never tested it, because I had nothing to gain. If they didn't believe me, I'd seem crazy. If they did, I'd feel guilty for stealing Tori's old life, for giving up my male one when I did eventually have the chance to get it back, for lying to everyone every day. The idea that I couldn't tell anyone the truth was a comfortable excuse, but now... with Mae starting to put it together, and reaching this troubling conclusion, I felt like not only I could tell her, I had to. I remember reading about that Jessica person, and how eventually she managed to convince her mom, and for a long time I have both feared and hoped I would reach that point. I wondered what I would do if the truth did come out.

It's something I've thought about a lot since that whole business with Alex.

"It wasn't like that," I started to say. "It was just a confusing time in my life, and I'm glad it's over."

She smiled at me and said that whatever happened, she was glad. Tori/Karen, in the off chance you're reading this, I hope you don't take that the wrong way. I like to think you and Mae would have come to terms eventually.

I told her I was glad too, and that felt like the first honest statement I had made all night. If nothing else, I really love and value the sisterly relationship I have forged with her.

Anyway, that scene kind of rolled around in my head all through December... it's been forever since I felt guilty about not being the original Tori, but with Mae apparently eking closer to the truth, suddenly I feel like a thief again. I could hardly look her in the eye around Christmas, and by New Years, I did something drastic with Boy-X. That was a mistake, it didn't work out, it's over now.

So over that I've gotten into something new.

Guys, I got into a bit of a situation. I'm not comfortable explaining it right now, but it's something I feel very strange and guilty about, in a way I haven't since the first times I ever dated men. With Valentine's Day coming up, I may feel the need to spill.

If I can get back to blogging regularly, I will get around to sharing the details, because as private and personal as it is I know you are always there for me. Mwah.

Tori: Doubts

Some nights I look over at the Boyfriend and I wonder what I'm doing.

He's fine, I'm fine with him, but I'm not nuts about him like I'd like to be. He's good enough company, and the sex has gotten consistent, but there's always a catch. He doesn't love to go out, so we've settled into this really easy routine that appeals to the introvert in me, but makes me a little restless. When I was a guy, I was probably like him, but from this angle I can see why women might not have liked that... and I've changed so that I like being out with people. He says "Go ahead, I'll be here" when I broach the idea of hanging out with my friends, and I feel guilty. We're stuck in this "three dates a week" period, when in other relationships by now I've been eager to see a guy every night of the week.

I try to incorporate him into my life more... we bicker about stuff like that, and I tend to relent since we're both after the same thing. I think about breaking up with him sometimes and trying my luck again, but I just don't have the energy to get back out there... I'm getting some action, why mess with the system?

At the same time, how many times can I convince myself to try to make it work before I give in? Am I just going to settle?

A few weeks ago we had that little blow-up about me leaving some property at his place. Then the issue sort of came back up again the other night when he mentioned his lease was up in November. He's on the outs with his roommate - they work opposite hours so they're constantly tiptoeing around each other - and he doesn't love his neighborhood, and hey, I've got a two-bedroom to myself since Raine moved in with her boyfriend (my promotion allowed me to swing it but it's kind of tight.)

I didn't know what to say. A few weeks ago the guy didn't want me to leave tampons at his place, now he wants to move in with me? We haven't even known each other 6 months, and they haven't always been hot and heavy, you know? This is big.

My gut reaction was no... it's crazy, right? Too soon? But then I started going back and forth. Is this just me giving too much credit to my doubts? Just keeping him at arm's length, trying to preserve this awkward limbo of a relationship instead of going all in? Playing it safe instead of just facing facts that I'd rather be with some other hypothetical person?

I told him I'd think about it, but I was sure to mention it really felt too soon. He kinda sulked about that but tried to backpedal saying it was "just a thought."

What am I doing? I don't like him enough to move in with him, but I'm happy to keep sleeping with him? I let him wrap his arms around me and sometimes I just want to break free, and sometimes I want him to keep holding me forever.

I need a sign.

Tori: Too soon?

So, the other day, on my way over to the Boy's place, I stopped in at a store to bring over some food, beer, and other assorted things. When I got to his apartment, I started to unpack the bag, when I got to the last item: a pack of Tampax Pearl.

"Hey, um..." I said, nervously holding them at my side, "I don't know if this is a weird question, but... would you mind if I kept these here?"

He looked at the box, then at me, then at my breasts I think, then back at the box. The moment was getting uncomfortable, so I tried to joke my way out of it, "Um, not in the kitchen, I mean, in the bathroom."

"Oh, um," he stammered, "Why?"

"Um," I said, "Because I need them sometimes? And I'm here a lot."

We're not really in the casual fling phase of the relationship anymore. I spend entire weekends at his place, and I've had to run out to the pharmacy for a box of tampons while I was staying with him, and I was so embarrassed that I dumped the whole thing into my purse, and threw the box into a trashcan on the street. A glance at my purse looked like I was preparing for a menstrual hurricane of some kind.

But why should I be embarrassed? This is something about being female that everyone knows about, that I've long accepted, and that shouldn't be stigmatized. What harm would it do to keep a spare pack on hand in a place where I am frequently sleeping?

"Are you on your, um, thingy right now?"

"No," I said matter-of-factly, "But I could be tomorrow." My cycle has been really erratic lately. I think it has something to do with the stress at work.

"Can you keep them hidden somewhere? So my roommate doesn't see them?"

Ah, the mysterious roommate. He works nights, and spends a lot of time in his room. I've encountered him like twice.

"What does that matter?" I asked.

"Well, I just don't want him to think I'm whipped," he said.

I was steaming. "Whipped?"

I remember making jokes about my male friends being whipped, when they were getting into relationships. OF course, back then I wasn't in a relationship pretty much ever, so I had no business to be making fun of any of my guy friends making a few concessions for their girlfriends, implying that they were less of a man because God forbid they couldn't make it to Halo night.

My opinion on the matter has changed. Now I think that's a bunch of bullshit.

"I could take them and go home," I said, "Would that stop you from being whipped?"

"No, Tori, I just mean..." he stopped. He didn't have any way to finish that thought. I waited impatiently. Finally, he said, "It's a personal space thing. He might think..." again he was stumped.

I gritted my teeth. "Let's try this again. Your girlfriend wants to know if she can leave some personal items at your place, so that she feels comfortable staying here more."

"Sure," he said, still visibly exasperated, "Do whatever you want, I guess."

Not the answer I was looking for.

I was hoping we wouldn't be sniping at each other so soon. Honestly, 90% of the time he and I are a great match, but he's insecure about the weirdest things. Sometimes I can tell he doesn't believe he should be with me, because I look a certain way and he thinks of himself a certain way. Like I'm some goddess he tricked into being with him, when the truth is I just like him. Then sometimes he says something dumb, picks a fight, and I wonder how much of a future we have. Maybe it's self-sabotage or maybe he just shoots his mouth off, I don't know. I guess if I'm noticing this this early on, it's not a good sign.

There were times I would have bolted at the first sign of a problem... after the last serious relationship, I looked for any excuse not to see someone again. I guess I shouldn't have expected him to be flawless, and again, aside from ruining the occasional moment, he's the best guy I've met in a long time. So I'm trying not to let it bug me too much when he lets his immature, insecure side out.

My God, this really is womanhood, isn't it.

The night was salvageable after that tense moment, and I think he felt guilty, although he didn't say "sorry." And I doubted myself, too... maybe I was just being a bitch, indignant for no good reason. But I can't help how I felt in that moment... insulted that he thought I was somehow "whipping" him, when the subtext of that conversation is that I like having sex with him and staying the night! It's about give-and-take, you know?

It's been a few days, and I've cooled off, but still. It remains to be seen whether this problem gets worse or goes away.

Tori: Rhythm

Maybe I'm just being a total girl about it, but I'm really happy about things with the Boy, to the point where I find myself dressing extra nice for dates where we just end up sitting around drinking beer and watching Netflix. It may have something to do with the fact that I've got a closet full of very alluring summer dresses and I just haven't had anyone to wear them for in a while, so having someone to peek down the front of my dress (yeah I see you!) feels great.

Yes, in very short order, we've gotten very close, going from tentative dates a week in advance to multiple visits per week, usually spent with his arm around my shoulder and his hand on my knee. And yet, I think we've been going just the right pace.

Last night, I arrived at his place, and he opened the door, dressed in a nice shirt and tie. This is big for me, because I've had this complex about how I like to get all done up sometimes, but guys usually just show up to dates wearing regular jeans and shirts. It makes me a little crazy, maybe unfairly, but dudes dressing nice, putting in effort to look grown up, is a big turn on for me, and I can't remember whether I had mentioned it or if he just sensed it, but seeing him like that, it was like... "take me now."

But of course, I had to play coy for at least a little while. We were flipping through the channels, he checked on the Phillies game, and we saw some player or other with a huge beard, and I commented "Ooh, that's a bit much." He looked homeless.

The Boy mentioned that a lot of girls like the rugged lumberjack look, and I said it doesn't do anything for me, I like my guys clean-cut. So then he said it was a good thing he wasn't planning on growing his beard out anytime soon, and I said yeah it was... and then there was this pause, which was just perfect.

I pounced, pulled him in close and we started sucking face pretty hard, letting our tongues play around each other. I laid back and let him hold a bit of his weight against me. He had one arm under my head and let his free hand roam up and down my leg and butt, which just got me hotter and hotter. He took his time, teasing my flesh with his fingertips, letting them linger around the hem of my skirt.

"Yeah, yeah!" I whispered, giving him as unambiguous of a green light to do what he wanted with my body.

I don't want to say things rushed from there, only that I could tell he was absolutely ready to go after weeks of dating. After a brief stop to get me out of my dress, and him out of his pants, then to move to the bedroom, it was on.

But first, I want to talk about the moment. My favourite moment. The moment my bra comes off.

I don't really care if a guy can unclasp my bra. I usually end up doing it for them now, because hell, I know it's not that easy. It was the first time he saw me topless, and I have to admit, it's another huge turn-on for me to see the goofy look on a guy's face when he gets a look at the girls for the first - or hell, even the hundredth time. Because I remember what it was like to fixate on breasts (hell, sometimes I still do! Even and especially my own.) And if I may say so, I've got a good pair. They look phenomenal in a bra, especially as I had made a point to pick one of my sexiest underwear sets (red and lacey: like I said, unambiguous green light) and uncovering them only takes away a bit of the fantasy element... yes, they're a bit uneven, and gravity is a bit of a thing, but I know guys don't care. Especially since at this point I've been heated up to the point where my nipples are sticking right out. They're round and soft and bouncy and... oomph, sorry, I'm getting carried away.

And then, the dumbstruck look on his face because he gets to be in their uncovered presence. It's like Christmas morning.

Like, it's dumb and superficial, but being attractive to prospective partners is a great feeling. Having a bit of insight into what's going on in their head is a huge confidence boost. Seeing his part harden and stand even straighter only sweetened the deal... even though I had to halt the proceedings one more time to remind him to wrap it.

Then we got down to business and... well... it was fine. Hey, nobody starts at a 10. It wasn't that bad. He could have taken his time and paid a bit more attention to me, but I was really starting to get there when he finished.

After a brief rest period where we just laid quietly in each other's arms, he was finally ready to go again. I always like going twice in a night because guys get a little more conscientious about who they're with, more eager to please... and yeah, it was still just your standard back-and-forth, but we seemed to start to find our rhythm.

Patience is key. I set myself up for disappointment because I was so into this guy, I was hoping the initial sparks would translate to fireworks in the bedroom immediately. Reality kind of set in, but if I had to choose between okay sex with someone I really like, and great sex with someone I don't (and I've had both) I'll choose the former. There's plenty of time to get better.

I think he sensed that it wasn't that great, though, because he was a bit withdrawn for the rest of the night and hurried out of there. I wanted to tell him "Hey, it was a good start," but that probably would have just made him feel worse.

Tori: Freefall

Friday night, the Boy and I went out for dinner and a walk. He's lived in Philly for a few years without seeing much besides the college campus, so I took him on a bit of a tour, pointing out all my favourite spots to sit and people watch. I had to resist the urge to tell him stories about how I used to spend hours on end walking the city when I first got here - given that I'm technically supposed to be a native to this city - but it did bring back odd memories of being a scared boy-turned-girl looking for... I'm not sure what. Distraction, maybe. Peace of mind, security... stability. A way of looking at this "curse" to make me think it was going to be okay. Something just short of a "why" or a "how," because I knew I wasn't going to get that.

As we walked along, our conversation turned somewhat deep. He talked about his ambitions, his desire to travel, see the world, break out of his shell. I told him I never gave much thought to traveling...I'm a little set in my ways. I didn't dare explain that it was because only five years ago I changed my entire life right down to every cell in my body... that's not really something you talk about on a third date. I did tell him that distance had ruined a relationship for me before, and he added that he wouldn't even think of leaving Philly if he was seeing someone seriously.

I entwined my arm around his.

So there I was, on a cool July evening, dressed in heels and a maybe-too-light dress that lifted just a few inches in the breeze... with a low neckline that he would just have to glance sideways down at me to see all the way down... walking alongside a man, holding close, looking around at buildings but really just wanting to look at him.

I felt good. Not the L-word, per se, but a good kind of nervous and excited that I haven't been for a while, because I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere after dating around and being lonely for too long.

My mind slipped back to the way I was before I ever went to Maine - as it inevitably does from time to time - how I would've been uninterested in male companionship, how I was bad at finding female partners. How much I hated myself and just wished I could be different. And when I did become different, in a way I never anticipated, how quickly things started to change for me. And yes, it took a while to appreciate and even understand the ways it can be good, but right now, just being with someone, male or female, who wants to get to know you and spend time with you... that's a gift.

We can to a stop at a crosswalk, and I turned to him and smile. He smiled back. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and leaned in. He leaned over and kissed me. A chill went up my spine.

This is the why. It's not why it happened, but it's why I stopped being upset that it did. This feeling I never had before a few years ago. And while I know from experience that things like this can go away in the blink of an eye, for the moment, I'm feeling great.

I'm still trying to take it slow with him. I'm sure (since I haven't totally forgotten what it's like to be a guy) he'd jump into bed with me tonight if I asked, and part of me wants to do just that and skip the formalities, but I like this phase. Just freefalling into someone's world.

Well, maybe next week ;)

Tori: Get it together, Pearce

So I went out on a couple of dates with Boy-X. He was nice, and maybe there weren't sparks, but I quite enjoyed his company, and I felt like conversationally we were a good match. That's important to me.

Then after a couple of weeks, the texts started to drop off, and I found myself freaking out a little. "What did I say wrong? What can I say to get him back on my side? What can I do to make him like me?" I thought things were going fine. I was having these private little freakouts with my phone, wishing that little light would blink.

Normally, especially in past lives, I would walk away. I would take the hint, suck it up, and go try my luck somewhere else. And I'd feel terrible about myself, like a loser nobody wanted, and even since I've been in this body I've felt pretty crummy over the years: turning into a fairly attractive woman hasn't dulled my ability to find flaws in myself. But in this case, I decided I had it. I wasn't going to give up that easy: I'd seen what was out there, and I liked this guy, and I was going to get to the bottom of this.

"Hey," I said after two days (yes, it only took two days of silence to break me) "Do you like me?"

I swear, I haven't felt so tense since, well... best not get into it. Still, it was very nervous.

A while later he texted back "Yeah... I think so."

Hrm. Not promising.

Then he continued: "I'm just really intimidated. You've got things figured out, you're in a good place, and I just... don't know what I think about life right now."

Ding. It hadn't occurred to me that someone else in the world might be insecure. Get out of your own head once in a while, Pearce. The idea that my life might seem full to an outsider has never occurred to me... certainly not while I'm sitting at home on my butt, slinging my bras over the furniture and wondering if I have enough room to get a cat.

Now, when I was a guy, I would sit around, wondering why some girl I liked couldn't take an interest in me. Well here I am, taking an interest in a guy not that unlike my old self... and he damn well better appreciate it.

After a moment's thought, I told him that I was plenty insecure myself, and that the things he was worrying about weren't things that bothered me: that I enjoyed his company, and if he enjoyed mine, we should see each other more.

After an incredibly tense twenty minute wait, he responded... very positively.

So we started making plans, and tonight I'm having him over to hang out. You know, real casual. I'm not getting my expectations up, but all the same, it'll be nice to have someone I can call up once in a while. Someone I like.

I'm on a bit of a high right now, not just because someone likes me, and not just because I put in some work to make sure things were square, but because I suddenly saw where he was with his life: uncertain, intimidated and nervous, and I made him feel better. I did a good thing for someone, had an impact. I just feel so psyched right now. It used to be, I was the one who needed constant pep talks.

Five years does amazing things to a person.

PS That's right... 10 days ago was the five-year anniversary of 27-year-old John Henry Clifford becoming 22-year-old Victoria Pearce. I'm back to the age I started at... and I feel so good about it.

Tori: Tuesday Night is Date Night

The weather is nice, so I figured the least I could do was try to get back into the dating game. I've dabbled a little in online dating... I must really hate myself to go through it, because it's a neverending string of "hey cuties" and "sups" and unsolicited dickpics. Newsflash: There is nothing special about your dick. I'd know.

But I did end up chatting with a nice guy, let's call him Boy-X for now. I still doesn't know if there's someone reading this who might use this information to somehow manipulate the situation against me. I wonder if I should warn him that people who get close to me tend to... get messed with. (Admittedly, Buddy got it in a pretty good way, if he was moved to Houston to get him away from me, since he seems happy. Sigh.) He's a bit younger than me, which is weird because that means he's a fair bit younger than my actual age, but I try not to think about that anymore.

He's freshly out of college, looking at grad school, still trying to figure out who he is. I told him I related, and took longer than average to figure it out. I've developed this joking way of admitting what happened to me, this way of explaining it in a way that feels like it could be true, but isn't.

Anyway, this is the first serious date I've had in a while. It feels weird and stressful, picking a nice dress, picking nice underwear even though I don't intend to let him see it, eternally fussing with my hair. I know guys don't notice these things, like at all, but at the same time if I show up looking like I just came from work I don't think I'll make a good impression either.

Is it weird that I'm writing this? I know you nice readers are always very supportive and interested in what's going on with me, but it feels so... irrelevant, with it being summer and wave after wave of new people getting zapped into wrong bodies, and I always feels so ashamed for caring about my own life and not reaching out to them. I almost don't fit in anymore, I'm so far beyond beginner status on this blog. I worry about this every year.

After my last post, I actually heard from an old friend who objected to my assertion that I have no male friends. "What do you call me?" Sara asked over Facebook.

"A brother, maybe :)" I told him. After all, he's in my old body, my only link to my past, my old family, and Buffalo. It really is important that I keep up with him, more than I have sometimes. Which is why it somewhat shocked me when he said he had some news for me.

"I'm thinking of moving."

Jaw dropped. What?

He explained, "I met this girl a while back, and she lives in California, and it dawned on me during one of our late night texting sessions... what am I staying East for? My ex is long gone. I don't delude myself by thinking I'll go back to the Inn and get my old body back or even a new one. It's time for me to start thinking about what I want, right? You understand, don't you?"

I hesitated for a moment and thought about times I made my own decisions. "Of course..." I remembered vacillating about whether to go to Houston with Buddy or stay in Philly. I stayed because I love Philly, I loved my friends and family here, and I'll admit I was at least partly motivated by interest in Alex, for all that got me. If Sara, as Cliff, doesn't love Buffalo (and being from Buffalo I could hardly argue) then why not?

"It's not like we see each other a lot in person anyway," he said.

"You're right," I admitted, "You're just taking that body--" I initially wrote "my body" but I had to delete it and rephrase "--somewhere else where we can still be Facebook friends."

"Exactly."

"And you like this girl?"

"I really do."

"How long have you known her?"

"Three months."

Wow... and already thinking of moving? Okay, no judgment, I swear.

"Good for you," I said. "Get far away from Maine."

"Thanks," he said. "I'm glad I have your blessing. I still don't know for sure, but it's cool you're cool."

"Oh yeah, I'm cool baby."

"Hah. Sure. I can't believe I never noticed you weren't the real Tori."

I wasn't sure if I was stung or pleased by that remark. I just said "Well I am now :)"

Then he said "You're doing great. I know how hard it is."

"That's what she said!"

Laughter, applause, you're welcome.

The conversation made me want to see if I could get in touch with the former Tori, who I think is still down in Louisville doing local TV. It's so weird how time goes by and life gets in the way so you lose track of these people. Sorry again if any of this is upsetting to recent Inn people, but hey, it's life.

Now then. time to stop sitting around in my undies and make a decision about my wardrobe. I really want to knock this guy out so I don't have to keep meeting guys!