Val: Under the knife

Around the holidays things started to get weird between me and Rafe. It can be a very sentimental time, even though neither of us are sentimental people, and it's hard not to succumb to the urge a little and behave a certain way.  Something about holiday cheer and togetherness makes it hard to just enjoy casual sex for what it is.

Around New Years Eve we found ourselves having an obligatory "What are we?" Conversation. Are we exclusive? No, but neither of us is seeing anyone else. Do we go out on dates? I said it would be acceptable but he said it was outside his comfort zone (to put it mildly.) In my head I had echoes of someone or other saying "Why buy the cow..." even though I didn't even grow up as a woman. I had to field awkward dating questions from Valerie's mother over the holidays, and deflected by saying I was out there, and that's all. It deepened the already sour feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I spend time with that family.

In January I decided, kinda unilaterally, to downplay my thing with Rafe. Call it a Resolution if you must. It had been a few months of great sex with someone who wasn't interested in more. Why not look again?

Instead, online I found the usual collection of way-too-self-absorbed boy-men in suits who think all women are impressed by a decent suit and a nice car (in this city? Please.)

It was a lot like last year's round of boredom-inducing matchups, only this time I actually had sex with a few of them. None of them had much potential for long term, but I wanted the experience. Whereas before I avoided sex because I didn't want to feel used, now I embrace it because I wanted to do the using.

I think I have screwed myself up because I can only bring myself to sleep with a guy if I dislike him now. I know I should respect my body enough not to just let anyone have it, but I also respect it enough to give it things that will feel good, at least for the night. But if I think I have feelings for a guy? I dare not complicate it with sex.

Besides, I was worried they wouldn't want me soon. At the end of January I did something I have been dreaming about for years... having my breast reduction surgery.

Having boobs of any kind is great about 10% of the time. Times when you want the attention they bring. Times when you are wearing something flattering but not uncomfortable. Times when you are literally naked, on top or below (or in front of) someone and feeling them bounce up and down and against your ribcage in response to something very pleasurable. The rest of the time they are a frightful inconvenience, and when they are 8% of your overall body weight (I did the math!) they are a literal pain.

I had made up my mind months ago and went through a battery of consultations and examinations. Recieving healthcare as a woman in this country is not overall simple of convenient but my doctor - a man - acknowledged that on my frame, these breasts are too much by a lot.

Before the surgery, I texted both Kevin and Rafe, the men in my life who I had kept at arms length of weeks or months. Kevin wished me well, Rafe didn't respond right away. I also texted my sister and Meg, and of course Maddie and Ariel knew - who has taken Charli's old room and made a really good late night talking partner since both of us are effectively single.

Before they put me under, the Doctor said something to the effect of "Just think, when you wake up, you'll have a whole new different body." I probably laughed way too hard, involuntarily, and confused him.

Then they wheeled me in, put me under, and that was that.

Afterward, as I woke up, in my groggy state, my first thought was to grab for them. I think I thought I was back to the Inn because Maddie recalled me babbling about "Am I me? Am I me?" Before long, I came to and had a chance to examine.

It was amazing. The scars are barely noticeable. They're still pretty big actually, but much, much smaller than before. I might actually be able to shop in regular places for tops and bras. Wear sundresses. Jog. See my feet. They're reshaped into perfectly symmetrical orbs. Almost too perfect. It bugs me how I've lost a certain natural appearance. I don't want people to think I have fake boobz (I did get a lot of "are those real?" questions from creepy guys online, but mostly people assume rightly that at this size, you wouldn't pay to put those on your chest.)

Part of me was excited - I looked great. I felt free. Part of me was sad, as I worried I might be - I had lost something that had come to be a part of me, as frustrating and inconvenient and painful as they could be. Never in all my years of wandering as Tyler or drifting from life to life via the Inn had I felt so attached to anything, let alone body parts I wasn't even born with. I worried about not being appreciative of the body I had inherited, but Cynthia has told me this was a dream of hers too.

It's like being a new me (something I'm real familiar with) with the losses and gains that implies, but I get to keep being me, which is exciting.

Once I got back into street clothes, Maddie and Ariel were gobsmacked. It was so different and yet it looked so rigbt. They were very supportive and very complimentary. They got me a card and pampered me while I recuperated.

Rafe eventually did text me back, saying that he was happy for me, in a weirdly brief manner. But that's him.

One other reason for the timing... Meg's wedding is coming up. And I wanted it all out of the way so I could wear a nice dress and feel good about myself because the only person I ever really loved is getting married and I need to be there to support her.

If it ain't too obvious to say, I really do feel a weight off my shoulders. I had been hemming and hawing so long, and now it's done and I don't regret it.

I'm a happy gal.

-Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: Not settling

I spent the rest of the summer, after donating Cynthia's body and life to the original Valerie, just kind of sitting with my decision. I didn't have any plans or ideas about what to do with myself now that I knew who I was going to be for the rest of my life. I hadn't thought that far. I just knew it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn't necessarily what I wanted.

Basically I've been living half a life, even less than when I thought I was going back to the inn. I got up in the morning, got dressed and did my hair, and served coffee. I spoke as little as I could with my roommates. I went to Vermont a few times to see Meg - who was very understanding about my choice how to move forward as Val, maybe a little too much so. Years later I think what she liked about me was that when we got to know each other I was like a "little sister," so me being female works for her. (She doesn't like this interpretation but this is my post, hah.) We're still friends, and working on being closer than ever now that the door to us being together is truly closed.

All year I've kind of been writing on this clean slate that I got after Josh left Valerie for his ex. I had my fling with Rafe, and then my unfortunate encounter with Ryan that left me feeling really terrible, since he played me and went back with Alexa, and brought up all these issues that have been in me since the wedding. It's hard not to be bitter about how that went down. He and Alexa spent the rest of the summer in California and we didn't talk.

I've been avoiding all my problems by working a lot, both at the coffee shop and as an increasingly clutch waitress at the caterer. At home I've just been tiptoeing around the apartment, trying to be seen and heard as little as possible, and working up the nerve to make a change. I never used to doubt myself when I was male - if I didn't like a situation I would pack up and leave without hesitation, but I can't muster that energy so easily as a woman. That bothers me.

I am pleased to say that after being a magnet for it, I haven't indulged much male drama since re-upping as Val. I have a whole life ahead of me so I'm not in a rush to meet someone new, and I may even end up as a spinster... although it would be a waste of my youth, looks, and all the time I spent getting comfortable with enjoying sex as a woman. I just don't have a burning need for it right now.

Looking back I'm a little embarrassed by how the first six months of this year went down. I blame Josh. About a year ago he did some voodoo to me that made me realize I could fall in love with a guy if I let myself open up to it, and after he dropped the bomb, it left me very unresolved and needy. But hey, Tyler Blake has always been in love with love, too.

Rafe and I are actually talking again, after a long awkward summer. I think he understands why I ended it...mind you, a lot of that was spurred on by the idea that I was going back to the Inn. But the official story, which is the true story no matter what, is that I was not really happy just being a sexual object for him and getting nothing back (besides some consistently good sex.) I think I can have it all, I think it's out there for me, I just need to be patient and find it and not settle.

I mean, I settled for being Valerie, but that doesn't mean I have to settle in other ways. I can move, quit my job, date whomever I want... the future's wide open.

But about Rafe: it's good to have him as a friend again, to joke around and flirt innocently. He'll see me standing on a milk crate to reach something high up in storage, and instead of offering to reach it for me, he'll admonish me for being too proud to ask, then try to tickle my midsection while my shirt is riding up. (Sue me, I like the attention so I egg him on a little bit.) He says he's seeing someone, but it's not serious, which I think is his way of hinting that he would get back with me if I wanted it... but I think if he's happy and she's happy, that's great. I don't miss him.

I do miss my friendship with Ryan, but that will never be back. He's asked me to sing some more with him, and my response is always a polite no, with the secret meaning of "You son of a bitch."

Pete and I have spent surprisingly little time together - April actually lives in Jersey, and she works in Manhattan, so it's kind of the opposite way to get to Brooklyn, but we've texted a fair bit and she really wants to do a big catch-up in person.

Maddie and I have talked about moving in together when her lease is up in October, and she won't let this "We have to start a business" idea die. And now that I have all this time on my hands, this  whole future ahead to define my Val-ness, it's starting to sound appealing. I still occasionally think how cute and sweet she is, and it's the one thing in me that still feels male -- I feel like I really missed the boat by settling for being her friend.

Then I get home, hole up in my room, take my bra off, and study makeup tips on YouTube and think, wow... I really am a fuckin' girl.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

-A girl named Tyler (Or Valerie)

Tyler/Alan: Work-Life Balance

Or maybe that should be work/work-life/life balance, since I have two jobs and effectively two lives.

Of the two jobs, my position with Threo has the most potential for making money. If I devoted more time to it, I could probably be very well off. But it has its ups and downs. The kitchen job, which is very low paying (and seriously beneath me) is more consistent. Between the two of them, I'm out of the house anywhere from 12 to 15 hours per day (my initial plan was to only drive on days when I wasn't washing dishes, but the money was too good to limit myself.)

Being out for 15 hours at a time, then coming home and going right to bed, is fine when you're on your own. But apparently I have a girlfriend. I didn't realize when I suggested Kitty and I start fooling around on a regular basis that I was also gonna have to perform the duties of a real honest-to-god boyfriend, but she's a bit old school like that.

Everything was going fine - I would come home late, chat with her a bit, and then if I was in the mood I'd initiate something. But slowly we crept more into relationship territory. She'd ask how late I was going to be out, text me while I was at work to check in, find reasons to get frustrated with me. And I would feel guilty too, so I'd apologize and try to find a way to make it up to her. She's very keen on living (a version of) Greta's social life, whereas I am very wary of interacting with these people since I don't plan on being here anymore come fall.

She would rather I just work lunch shifts at the kitchen, so I was more free to keep her company at night. But that's the least amount of money I can make, and since she basically refuses to work - she's not qualified for anything that isn't "beneath her" - we need the cash. I would rather give up the restaurant and drive full time, but she would feel personally slighted if I was out working the late hours (when there's more $$ to be made.)

Why do I desperately need to keep her on my good side? I don't know. I need good karma. I need to get Alan and Greta back where they belong, and move on in my life. Kitty is pretty worried that means leaving her behind, going our separate ways once we get new lives and... I'm not going to lie, that seems possible to me. I'd say I wouldn't ditch her outright, but... isn't that what I did to Meg? Shit, I am scum.

So now I'm a little reluctantly in a couple. We make plans like a couple, we fight like a couple... we also joke around like a couple and screw like a couple. We've gotten very comfortable in this situation, and I don't mind putting in some work to keep it going. Maybe I shouldn't be so outspoken about this but I'm still a person with needs and desires, and she's... there, and doesn't seem as critical of my every move as Meg sometimes could be. She's quite attractive and sweet to me, and making her happy makes me feel good, warm and comforted. It feels like we're in this together, in a way that Meg and I weren't, since she got her body back.

We still have some time left - the rest of June and all of July - so it's in my best interest, if I'm bringing Kitty with me ("They're probably perfectly happy wherever they are, why ruin a good thing?") to keep her happy. And to try to get as much happiness out of it as I can myself.

Tyler: Families, and Thanksgiving, and stuff

I've kind of neglected Alan's life a little bit since being here, I'll admit. He has a family back in Wisconsin that loves him very much, and no doubt misses him. And I got a little absorbed re-fashioning his life into my own, that I couldn't help but leave them behind.

From the beginning, there were texts and calls, usually ones I dodged, even though I knew it wasn't fair to Alan or his family or anybody. But I had to distance myself. I felt like I'd spent a year suppressing everything about myself just to fit in and make others feel better, I needed something for me.

I warmed up a little bit, responding to texts and calls more quickly, but I still hardly know these people. I told them I had found work out here and decided to stay a while, which raised questions (Alan was not one to leave his family behind) that of course I dodged. I just wanted them to know their son is OK (he is) and to feel like they could reach me if they have to, but... jeez, they really test that. Every day I get some new update on some neighbor or distant cousin I don't know. But I try to be polite and answer back, "That's interesting" or "Good for them" or "What an asshole," as applicable (then I get chided for strong language.) I also dodge questions about Greta, saying only that we parted ways and I don't know what she's up to (mostly true.) Of course there were questions about how one could just part ways with the woman he probably was going to marry, but I chalked it up to "Personal differences." End of story.

Or so I thought. During a recent call, I had to explain again why I couldn't make it home for Thanksgiving. I let it slip a while ago that I had started a new relationship. And of course Mama Schmidt scoffed about how soon it was to be throwing family traditions away and if she loved me, she'd understand and let me come home. I told her I wasn't exactly being held against my will, and I was sure Thanksgiving would be fine without me.

So yeah, I agreed to go see Meg's family for Thanksgiving. While they didn't exactly "keep it small" (six aunts, five uncles, and 11 cousins were present) these people were all supposed to be strangers to me. Plus it was local, which was a huge bonus. Once Meg let it slip that I worked in a kitchen, her mom insisted I bring a side. Arguing that I mostly cook eggs didn't phase her, so I cooked up a recipe for whisky-infused green beans. Except I kept that first part a secret. They were a big hit.

It was a chaotic, exhausting, wonderful day. Meg is a lot like her mom – same sense of humour, same smile... but with more of a housewifey vibe. She warned me they might judge me because I didn't go to college, but they were very polite... to me. I do think her Mama is a bit judgmental toward her, though. I put my charm into overdrive to win over her dad – a friendly, intellectual guy with a big interest in history (seriously, the guy was loaded with facts about he first Thanksgiving, the Colonial era, and even a fair bit about pre-Columbian times.) Asked him lots of questions, didn't yammer on about myself.

"They really like you," Meg beamed afterward on the drive home. "My Mom is just happy I'm dating again, and Dad seems to think you're really smart."

"Don't know how he got that impression," I smirked, "Guess I'll have to keep him fooled."

Later that night, as we were getting ready for bed, she said something that struck me: "I wish I could meet your parents."

I'm sure she meant well by it, but it caused a real chill to go up my spine. I sat up and looked at her and I just said, maybe a bit coldly, "You don't have to say that."

She looked at me, "No, I mean it. I think it's a shame that I can't... like, share that part of your life. I'm really sorry about it."

"Don't worry. It's gone," I said. "They're gone. It's..." I trailed off, suddenly getting very emotional.

Sensing she had touched a nerve, she wrapped her arms around me. I felt my face get hot. I wondered if I was going to start crying. I took a breath and told her "Even if... even if I was me, even if everything was normal... trust me, it would be okay if you never met my Dad."

"Was he... that bad?"

"Yeah," I said, "We're, uh... not close."

"You never talk much about home. About Mobile, your family, your childhood. Is that why you didn't mind not getting your real body back?"

"It's just complicated."

She took a moment to swallow this. For a second it looked like she was hurt that I wouldn't open up. Then she said, "Whatever you're running from... and you don't have to explain it to me if you don't want to, I'm sure if you're ever ready you will... it's in the past. I didn't mean to remind you of it. But you're here now, with me."

"I know," I said. "Believe me. I know."