Valerie: Why am I crying??

Safe to say I've cried more in the last 5 years than the whole rest of my life before that. Maybe I cried twice after the age of 12 prior to visiting Maine and becoming Lauren. Then it was a while before it happened, and I don't even remember what was the last straw, just an accumulation of things. Hormones played a part, for sure, but overall just not seeing any point in fighting it and bowing to reality - that for whatever reason I wanted to cry, and it felt good to do so. Then once it happened it happened with some regularity as my body took that as an acceptable response to a tough situation. Bad day at school? Guys being pricks? Seeing Meghan/Tasha with Wade? Just flat out feeling small and weak? Waterworks. I learned to embrace it. Occasionally I even cried for joy but not often.

I cried as Alan, too. When Meg and I fought, when we broke up. It feels different as a man. A form of shame that I had moved past as a woman, as if that body was rejecting what my mind was trying to tell me an understandable response to a hard situation. It felt physically worse to cry as Alan than as Lauren. It was pain.

I didn't cry when my father died, but I did feel bad, in my gut, mostly for Carrie, who loved him more than I ever could have, and knew a different version of him.

I cried some as Judith, out of frustration with Kit or raising Dylan/Olivia, or feeling like I was doing a bad job, but things were more stable and that helped. For all Kitty's faults in how we did not work together, she-he understood my situation and was there for me.

It's become something I understand about myself, how I'm different than the man I used to be. I didn't cry, wouldn't have liked crying and, for all my hardships I never felt I had much to cry about.

Since being Valerie I have been through the wringer, but even notwithstanding that it's been a lot of tears. I cried when Josh treated me good, because I didn't deserve it. I cried when he treated me bad. I cried after oursupposed wedding, and for weeks afterward when I wanted to just stop being Valerie already. I've cried when I was lonely. I've cried when I was tired. I've cried after sex - Rafe caught me only once and to say he did not know what to say would be an understatement.

When I determined I would be Valerie forever, I cried, and again when the original Valerie officially became Cynthia. It was like finishing a decathlon. My body felt too exhausted to do anything but sob.

Since then who knows what might trigger me. I get daily reminders that I am living a life permanently and it's not always good. I am stuck like this. Most people don't even know there's an option to go change into someone else. I do and I have vowed, essentially, to never do it again. So the world throws it in my face that I am a 5'0 single young woman with 32G breasts who works in a coffee shop. That it may not be possible to find and fall in love with someone who sees me for who I am. That my back is so sore from just existing I can hardly sleep, and when I do I can barely let myself move. MY shoulders hurt too, my neck, legs, feet, ankles.

That I was on a nearly year long cold streak of dating and sex, not always by choice. That I have an opportunity to do anything with life and I'm not. That I can hardly do anything with my hair. (Okay, that's a joke.)

I don't even have to be having a bad day. I had a really good conversation with a guy earlier and when it was over I was surprised find myself blinking out some teardrops. It was like my body knew something I didn't. Sometimes if I cry for no reason, a few days later my period will arrive and it will all make sense.  I invent reasons to have cried after that - not knowing my body perfectly even after two years. Anything. Whatever. I'm crying writing all this!

I cry because I can cry.

It's not like I'm constantly crying all the time, some kinda broken woman. I'm just surprised sometimes at how much I do, and what makes me do it, and that it usually feels right.

When I say I've changed, I don't just mean because I know what it's like to have a period or actively pursue dating men. I have seen things that Tyler Blake, as I knew him once, could not have processed. I react to situations differently. I'm stronger and better and more caring. I know more about the world and people and a myself I have a better experience of life, even if I'm just a coffee girl for now. What I had to give up to learn all that, and to meet myself as I currently am, all seems minuscule even if it's not. Going back to the Inn, somehow becoming male again... I'd like to think that wouldn't have erased all of that, but I could never have taken that chance. I have to be this.

It makes me stressed, especially at this part of the year, when the opportunity is present. I weep over all the other lives I will never live. Ain't that crazy?

And I cry because for better or worse, deep down, I'm still me. Now those are happy tears. I cry because despite all my stresses and frustrations I like my life, my body, my friends. I'm a lucky, and happy, woman! Go figure.

-Valerie, aka Tyler

Valerie: Coffee Chat

A while back I had a day to myself. I was out running errands - stopping off at the CVS for snack food etc - and found myself at the coffee place not far from work. I often go there for off-hours coffee since I don't like to go in to work on my day off, and I find it hard to relax in there.


I was getting my Americano when who should I spot but Kevin, aka Silvertop, who had stopped coming into our place not long after he "defended me" against some douche who told me to smile.


"So," I said, "Here's where you've been hiding."


He put down his book, something called The Secret Wisdom of Nature, and looked up at me. I could read the embarrassment on his face. "Oh... hi."


"So, what, did I scare you off?


"A little bit, yeah," he winced at the memory.


"Well, it's safe, if you ever want to come back. My co-workers all unanimously told me I blew it out of proportion. You meant well."


"Thanks," he smiled.


"I'm a little bit touchy," I went on - God only knows why. "About people knowing what's best for me. Men in particular, but anybody."

"You have a right to," he nodded and gave a forgiving smile. "I'm guessing a lot of people have presumed to know what's best for you."


"A lot of people presume a lot of things," I said, with a slight laugh, although any semblance of a joke was lost on him. I sat down even though he didn't offer me a seat - I pretty much always assume men want my company nowadays, but I rarely take them up on it.


"People see me as something that I'm not inside. Helpless. Vulnerable. In need of protection."


"I can see how that must be frustrating," he said. "I... should let you know I have my own issues. I have three daughters and seeing a woman get treated the way you do sometimes gets under my skin. I felt like I was going to explode if I saw one more guy talk to you that way."


I bit my lip. Sometimes I forget other people have issues too but this was not long after my conversation with Ariel.


I raised an eyebrow, "So if you had sons, you wouldn't notice how men treat women?"


He exhaled, again, embarrassed. "I... can't say. I can't imagine not having my girls. I'd like to think I'd be sensitive and mature if I had sons too, but the last time I didn't have a daughter, I was a dumbass in my 20's."


I looked at his finger almost as a reflex - no ring. I didn't ask.


"Life... is not easy." I started to say, clearly just rambling at this point, "And I would like to say I had a better coping mechanism than just being numb but apparently it leads to losing my temper on well meaning customers and scaring them off. Sorry again."


We talked a bit longer. He told me about his home business as a recruiter, which is why he can spend hours at coffee shops reading in the middle of the day. He said he had heard some gossip about me, that I'd been left at the altar or something, and that always made him pay attention to me, to see if I let it show, bit I never did.


"That..." I said, almost with a smile, "Was a little like it happened to someone else. Something I heard about but didn't live. But I definitely did, and it was even harder than I thought it would be."


"You really can't prepare for something like that," he said with the tone of someone who knows. He added, "The blaming yourself is the worst part. It takes years to realize that the problem isn't with you but with them. I made excuses for my ex for a long time, I don't even know why. I can't blame you for just... amputating it."

I smiled. I felt understood for the first time in a while. "Amputate. That's a good word for it. God, I can't believe I'm spilling my guts to you," I said, once I realized the conversation had lasted over an hour.


"I thought I was the one spilling," he said.


"We both spilled," I noted. He chuckled.


There was a pause. I thought he was going to say something  but he didn't.

I stood. "Well, if you want a decent cup sometime - no offense to this place - you're welcome back at my shop. First one's on me."


"I appreciate it," he said with a smile.


I left another pause in the air. Still nothing happened.


"They... we... miss you. Take care," I backed away and left.

Once outside, I glimpsed my reflection in a window. I looked like a total mess, since I hadn't taken any care with my appearance before leaving since I didn't plan on being out long. I straightened my hair, and adjusted a bra strap that had fallen during the course of the conversation, but I had been too self conscious to address during the conversation. After checking to make sure nobody was around, I dug into my cleavage to brush out some crumbs that had fallen in and itched me for the better part of the morning.

Then of course I realized he could probably see me through the window, although if he did he didn't let it show. I hurried on home after that.


-Tyler/Valerie

Valerie: Out With the Girls

Once the weather started getting a little bit nicer, I noticed a change in Charli's energy. "All right people," she said one night, clapping to get our attention like she was a schoolteacher. "Winter is over. time to start having fun!"

Maddie and I looked back and forth at each other nervously. I was reading on my phone, Maddie was knitting.

"Fun?" I asked, fearfully - the way she said it almost seemed like a threat.

"That's right ladies," she said, "We're done with hibernation. It's time to get out in the world and experience some hardcore fun."

Personally, I work all day, sometimes at two jobs - relaxing at the end of the day is fun for me these days. Maddie feels similarly.

"Come on!" Charli said urgently. "You're both young, hot women in New York City! Every night you're not out seeing the world is a waste of your life."

"I have a boyfriend," Maddie reminded us.

"...Who spends four nights a week playing video games with his boyfriends, while you're sitting here knitting! That's a waste! And Valerie here still hasn't lost her virginity!"

I winced - the joke hit a little close to home, but my "prudishness" has become fair play for comment. When Charli likes you she teases you. Maddie muttered, "I like knitting..."

"Girls night. Girls night!" Charli started chanting. "Girls, girls, girls!"

"Chuck," Maddie said, using her nickname for her twin, "We have very different ideas of what constitutes a fun girls night." Personally, I'm not sure how many "girls nights" I've even had.

"Wine bar. Art show. Shitty bar band. Club. Billiards. Rave. Swap meet. AA meeting. Anything to get us out of this house because I'm sick of looking at these four walls!"

"You go out almost every night!" Maddie countered.

"Yeah, but not with you! Not with my girls!"

I had to admit, it felt good to be one of someone's "girls."

I looked around nervously. "Well, it's been a while since I've gone out to a bar..." Most of my outings lately have been unsuccessful dates, so I didn't get to enjoy myself. The idea of just going out to a bar to go to a bar seems terrifying to me as a woman, but with my "girls" by my side, maybe not so bad.

"Val! Thank you Val!" Charli took my hands in hers and squeezed. "I was worried I was going to have to take you guys to Court."

'Court' is a thing we do around the apartment to settle disputes - prosecution, defense, judge. It started as a gag but the rulings have been taken shockingly seriously - see the case of Maddie v. Thermostat, where she came prepared with energy-usage statistics and financial metrics to get us to keep the apartment two degrees cooler during the winter.

Maddie twisted in the wind about it. "I... okay. One night out once in a while isn't gonna kill me."

We settled on the neighborhood bar. Maddie stressed over what to wear but I didn't. I didn't want to put myself on display or anything, but I wanted to be comfortable and casual while not seeming closed off. I wore jeans and a sweater that emphasizes that yes, I have boobs, but doesn't feature much cleavage so it says "No, they're not for you." Maddie changed three times, eventually settling on a plain white v-neck tee, jean jacket and tights that make her butt look good. Charli just wore what she already had on - a crew neck tee and slacks.

Maddie did my hair and makeup - I welcome this, possibly for reasons that would scandalize her, because the touch of a woman is still a special thing even if it's not what I'm primarily into these days. It's a different form of intimacy from what I experienced as a man, or what I get from men, and part of me craves it.

Maddie asked me when was the last time I saw the hairstylist. That's something I haven't kept up on in a while. I did it to keep continuity when I first became Val - after being  ery self conscious about grays (and Kitty's opinion) as Judith. But since I locked into making VLal my permanent self, I got out of the habit. Maddie's comment made me think maybe I should... which is a shame since avoiding it is a good way to save money.

 I also changed into some cute underwear - a lacey thong - because it's important to be prepared. Oddly, feeling rushed and forgetting myself, I started to do this in front of Maddie, which caused her to bolt from the room. I was embarrassed that I hadn't thought twice. And then I wondered if she's a little sensitive because her twin is a lesbian and she feels the need to like, overcompensate.

In our own ways, we all looked hot.

"By the way," Charli said as we were almost there, "I invited my friend Ariel tonight. She's cool. We're sleeping together, but nobody knows it yet, so shhh."

Maddie rolled her eyes. "Come on! You wouldn't let me bring David but you're bringing your random hookup??"

"Hello! This is a Girls' Night, and she's a girl, so what's wrong with bringing her?" Plus, Charli added, they've been sleeping together for three weeks - for her, that's a commitment.

They bickered a while, and as usual I didn't chime in until called upon to make a ruling. "I decree that this is not in the spirit of Girls' Night, but it does conform to the letter of the law. Plus, I'd like to meet this chick." If it's getting serious, we might as well.

We went in. Ariel, this beautiful dark-haired, tan-skinned girl, waved us over to her table. She's almost as short as me, with a booty. She wears her hair out in a well-tamed mass of curls and has what I would call Librarian glasses. She and I were wearing very similar outfits. She gave Charli a chaste hug hello.

I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next. We ordered drinks. We tried to talk, but it was a strain to be heard. There was indeed a crappy band playing old covers. I announced I wouldn't mind playing darts. Nobody seemed agreeable to that, but some guy offered to teach me.

I looked him up and down. There was nothing offensive about him, so I challenged him to a friendly game. I won, and he decided he didn't want to play so much anymore and went back to his friends. I wondered what the hell was wrong with me if he wasn't into me.

I found Ariel outside, vaping. I wanted to break away from the group a little bit. Partly because as different as they are, Charli and Maddie are still sisters  and occasionally whem hanging out with them I still feel likecan outsider. Or maybe it's because they've been women their whole lives and I'm... well, I can embrace it all I like but I'll never be what they are. It doesn't feel as bad when I'm hanging out one on one with a woman but in a group, ironically I start to realize I am not like them. I'm rougher, I don't have the same frame of reference for things. I get more worried about not "passing."

Besides, I was liking hanging out with Ariel. She's cool and funny and bookish, a bit like Meg. And I sensed that maybe she felt a little left out too.

"So," she said, "Charli and I are... kinda a thing, maybe? I don't know."

"Yeah," I said, trying to conceal the fact thst Char had prepared us, "I gleaned that a bit."

"I don't know why I'm so embarrassed to admit thst. You're cool people. You know Charli, you don't judge. I just... this is all new to me. Before I met her I thought I was straight.  She's my first girl... hookup... person."

I wanted to tell her I related to her confusion,  but she didn't need me to steal thunder with my backstory. I let her vent

"I get it," I said, "It's nobody's business but yours."

"It's the worst feeling. I want her to pay attention to me but I don't want it to be obvious. So I feel ignored. If you weren't here I would have bailed already."

I took the compliment and said pretty much the same.

"I'm such a dork," she sighed cutely to herself, "I thought I was so open minded. I thought, I'm not gay, but if I were, I'd be proud. My parents are liberal, but I'm still sweating bringing her home."

I wanted to joke that I wasn't sure Charli was the kind of girl you take home.

"So," she said, changing the subject, "Who's texting?"

I turned red. I thought I had been very subtle. Charli and Maddie had been so gabby all night I was pretty able to check my phone and tap out a quick response, but Ari must have been more observant

"Some guy," I said. "On a dating app."

"You like him," she said, again making an observation, not asking a question.

"I'm... interested. More than I've been in a while."

"Can I see?"

I winced. "It's, uh, complicated with this one... I'm not sure how public I want to be yet either."

She smiled, "I get ya."

Maybe eventually she will.

We went back in. I talked to her some more. She's very into soccer so I let her bring me up to speed on that, until Charli forcibly changed the subject.

The night lased a bit long for my tastes. Darts Guy came back, a little drunker, to see if he could get my number. I respectfully passed. The moment was gone. I've got my mystery guy, and a perfectly healthy masturbation routine if that doesn't work out.

Having admitted to the nature of their relationship, Ariel came home with us and slept over. In the morning I made us all eggs and broight Girls Night to its official close.

Tyler/Valerie: Smile

I have I can't tell you how many interactions with people all day behind the counter of the coffee shop. They complain to me about the quality of our baked goods, about the weather, about it being Monday. They might make some remark they really think I'll like, or be bold enough to make a remark that could be construed as flirty. For the most part I try to keep a politely neutral expression on my face. One that says, I may not be thrilled to be here and I'm really not here to make friends, but I'm not going to bite your head off. Wecan talk for the five seconds it takes to foam a latte, whatever.

Some people are better at service than I am. Maddie is a perky burst of energy. Rafe can be chummy and bro-y at the drop of a hat. The new kid, Devin, is very upbeat. I'm personally not so good at hiding my real feelings.

You would think - being a transformed person, who has lived other peoples lives for years, faking things comes naturally. But maybe that's actually why I am so averse to it. I want my inner self to come through. And if she's a little blah most days, it's not without reason.

I at least know I am providing my best service whether I'm smiling or not. Me putting on a false face, I have to believe, doesn't improve my customer's lives for eve the 30 seconds we are face to face.

When I have something to smile about, I smile. Some days I come in in a good mood, some days Maddie and I have danceoffs (she wins - I just awkwardly shuffle my body like any rhythmless former-guy with ungainly boobs.) You know, whatever. I smile when I'm happy.

You know what I'm getting at here. The number of times I've had some guy say I should be smiling - and it's always a guy - I can't count. To this day I have no set response to it. Usually, if I think I can get away with it, I just don't react. If I'm lucky I can brush it off and go to the next customer. I've had one or two guys get indignant when I've taken this approach and hiss at me about what poor service I'm giving. Sometimes I play dumb, like I didn't hear them and see if I can get them to feel embarrassed. Sometimes I even will myself to flash a smile, but I always feel disgusted with myself afterward.

Universally, it makes me feel gross. I was a man, and I know not every many goes around saying stuff like that, but it doesn't really make me feel great about the totality of my former gender to see how widespread it is. Or to feel how small and powerless and objectified it makes me feel. Being leered at is one thing - I'm worth looking at, and it doesn't inconvenience me too badly. But to be latched onto by men who want to "see me smile" just feels so sinister and wrong and makes me feel like they see me as "less." It's a reminder that to a lot of them I am less - a target, a prize, than a human to be engaged with.

Yesterday, when it happened, I tried my usual brushoff. I wasn't having a good day. My hair was being uncooperative, I was feeling certain physical ailments I never dealt with before being a woman, I was just annoyed at the world. So when this guy drops his change into the tip jar - a whopping 15 cents - and I don't smile and say thank you, he gives me this glare, and says, "Hey, not even a smile? What's the matter with you?"

I could have gone into a whole thing, but instead I gave him the fake smile, and said, "Oh, thanks." He was big and bald and honestly looked like he would take a swing at me even thought I'm five-foot nothing and female. I was too scared to try anything but go along. It's one of the worst feelings that comes along with this life.

He reluctantly accepts this, muttering under his breath as he walks away with his coffee to go sit down.

So here's where it gets screwy. We have this regular - Kevin. We call him Silvertop because he's a  little older, prematurely grey, handsome like Anderson Cooper. Well, more salt-and-pepper but whatever. He comes in every day, reads for an hour or so, then leaves quietly. I like him, generally.

He gets up and he goes over to the guy. "Excuse me," he says, "Did you just tell her to smile?"

"None of your business, pal," says the guy, who looks like he would wreck silvertop in a fight.

"That's just incredibly rude," Kevin goes on to say, "You can't just say shit like that to random women. It's 2019, pal."

"Step off," growls the other guy.

Kevin won't relent. "I'm just saying, you don't know her story. Who's to say she's got anything to smile about, just because some stranger threw a quarter her way? Why don't you think about other people for a change?"

Big Guy stands up like he's going to start a fight, but to his credit, he just leaves the shop, staring daggers at Kevin the whole way. I'm watching this unfold and I'm feeling... angry.

"Hey," I say sharply.

"Yeah?" Kevin answers back.

"Don't do that."

He looks at me for a while, then asks, "I was just trying to..."

"Well, I didn't want you to, okay. I don't need you to swoop in and tongue-lash every asshole who comes in here. Have you seen this city? That's how you get stabbed."

He looked like he was going to defend himself a bit more, but then he caught himself. "My mistake, I'm sorry."

Then he sits back down and goes back to his book.

I spent the rest of the day in a huff. I told Maddie about it, but she didn't see the big deal - she'd love to have some guy defending her, especially someone like Silvertop.

"It just feels like two sides of the same coin," I said, "The first guy thought I owed him a smile. The second wanted to seem like a hero for rescuing me."

"He was just being nice!" Maddie protested.

Charli got it better, which I guess befits her background. Not that she's a manhater per se but she's even more wary of them than I am.

Still, I spent the rest of the night first wondering if I was too harsh, then getting re-annoyed with myself for thinking I could be too harsh. It's been a while since I've mentioned it but my "natural speaking voice" in this body is like an animated kitten. Even when I work to lower my register I still sound pretty cutesy. It's annoying.

I did wonder whether I should apologize. He has always seemed like a nice enough guy, quiet, keeps to himself, his intentions were good enough. Maybe I had a valid reason but there's also a ton of baggage I bring to situations like these.

The next day when he came in, he gave his order. I gave him a smile to try to convey... an apology? The idea I might have been wrong without fully admitting it?

"I'm sorry again about yesterday" he said unprompted. "It was presumptuous of me to step in. Way out of line."

"Yeah, well" I said steeling myself to give a rare apology, "I shouldn't have jumped down your throat. I was really just... misplaced anger and stuff. Really, it was a decent gesture."

"Well, I was chastened," he said, "And you spoke your mind. I respect the hell out of that, even if I'm on the other end of it."

I appreciated him saying that.

I have to admit, the unwanted attention this body beings frustrates the hell out of me, because I can't seem to turn it off. It's one thing to doll up and draw attention to yourself, but when you don't feel comfortsble standing around looking plain and average because guys think you should be happy and perky and perfectly groomed at all times, it wears on you, makes you resent life. Ironically, it doesn't make me want to go back to being a man - it makes me want to be a better woman.

--Val

Tyler/Valerie: Girly

During parts of my life where I've been physically a woman, I've had an annoying recurring dream where I'm walking down the main street of my hometown in just my underwear. I walk past people I grew up with while they catcall me, yelling out obscene shit like "Nice tits!" "Where'd you get the panties!" "Shake that ass!" and such. I wake up feeling ashamed and bitter. Just terrible that life worked out in such a way that I now live like this. It makes me not want to get out of bed in the morning, let alone do my hair and make-up and get dressed and face the world as this.

Let it be known - I've come to like doing my hair and make-up. I'm free to slack on them, of course, but engaging in girly shit makes me feel, well, girly, in a good way. Which is important, because this is a girly body.

Let's talk about how hard it is to dress myself. Pretty much my only options are to wear something form-fitting that shows off my body, or something frumpy and baggy that may be comfortable and warm but makes me look like I'm in a potato sack. I have no choice but to acknowledge to the world that I have big boobs, round hips, and a butt that is admittedly on the flat side but still feminine. And the shit I get from the world if I choose to downplay my looks is honestly not worth the savings in time and effort. So, you win, world. You've girled me up.

I like the girly stuff, not because I ever did before, but because I've come to see it as part of being me. And no matter who you are, no matter what it takes, you can't beat the feeling of looking in the mirror and knowing the person who is looking back is the real you. However far you are from the way you started.

All this estrogen has had a transformative effect on my brain, and I'm not just talking about being willing to do something like what I did on New Years. I'm a lot more conscientious of, well... everything. I see an ad for skin cream and I think "Hm, my skin has felt dry lately - must be the weather, maybe I'll pick some up." Something that wouldn't have occurred to me during my time as a man. I also think maybe it's made me more sensitive. Charlie was sick last month, and even though we still hadn't really broken the ice, I made her soup and tea and stuff.

As to why I would have dreams knocking me down a peg, it's probably because I go through a sustained period of feeling okay about my situation, and then suddenly my brain wants to correct itself and go "No, this isn't right, you should be a man, being a woman is wrong." Tight clothes, makeup, hairspray, all wrong. Lip balm, wrong. Period, very wrong. But there's nothing I can do about it, and on balance, nothing I want to do about it.

I think what spurred these bad dreams was actually... dating. After things didn't pan out with Erik - I ghosted him, but he also ghosted me, which left me feeling oddly annoyed (what, no "thank you"? Was I not good? Does he think he can do better?) I nearly texted him but I had to remind myself I didn't like him that much, so I went on the apps.

It sucks out there. My whole line, to Pete or Jenn or anyone who asks is, I'm not actively interested in dating women, but man I miss it. I have never met a guy I liked as much as the women I dated. I went out with three guys in January and February and they were all kind of boring. They were guys who work day jobs in offices who message every reasonably attractive person they see, and I just picked the least objectionable ones.

They were full of themselves, they prattled on and on about their work, and, because I, as Valerie, am not really in the same place in my life as them, seemed not to acknowledge my observations. I was beneath them, I was more of a pet, an object, an adorable little accessory to be talked down to. And that was when they bothered to let me into the conversation. They would go on and on and usually casually reveal their cockiness, their sexism, their obliviousness to other peoples' feelings or lives.

I got invited back to all three apartments and I declined all three times even though I would like to find someone to have sex with. I didn't feel particularly attracted to them - it's so crazy how I never know what's going to, uh shall we say, light my fire. I have a few regular customers I have openly referred to as cuties, so I know I'm at least into something, but one is tall and broad-shouldered, the other is short and thin and kind of boyish, and honestly I don't think he's conventionally attractive. And don't think I haven't thought about breaking the ice there, but when you work with the public there's something to be said for keeping your relationships professional.

I was venting about all this to Charlie, of all people. When she was sick, and I helped her with stuff, we started to bond. She loves "straight girl tea" and openly drips acid all over the idea of me having a lovelife. She says I fascinate her, because I seem like such a vanilla, nothing-happening straight girl on the outside, but there's "clearly" more going on. If she only knew.

"Sometimes I wonder about you," she said with a glint in her eye. "Are you sure you're completely straight?"

I smirk, this is oddly the conversation I've wanted to have with her for months, even though I'm about to say things to her I probably shouldn't. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course. I'm all about that," she grinned widely.

I take a deep breath, "I've dated women. Years ago. Waaay in the past."

Her jaw dropped and she leaned in closer. "Anything serious?"

"One or two, yeah," I said. I could feel myself getting oddly cold as I edged toward the truth. Maybe this was a mistake.

"Why did you stop?"

"I... it's very complicated. It's not who I am anymore."

"I see. You met the guy who left you at the altar. You straightened out for him, and now you're worried your gay card has expired."

"More like, I let it lapse," I said.

"Uh huh," she nodded skeptically, as if this was not possible (and maybe in her world, it isn't.) "Well, I've got to say over the past few months I've noticed some weird things about you. Like, sometimes this 'normal vanilla good girl' thing is just an outfit you're trying on and it doesn't quite fit."

That stung a little. Any reminder that I'm not totally passing feels the same as those dreams. Like salt in the wounds that even if I embrace womanhood, it doesn't always see me as one of its own. But people take so little notice of others that it never seems to come up. And what she was saying was theoretically admiring (from her standpoint) but it came across as a critique. I got quiet.

"Don't tell Maddie, okay? She doesn't need to know."

"Oh, of course not," Charlie nodded. "Because then she'll get all weird, worrying that you and I might hook up. Or worse, you'd try to hit on her."

"Right..." I said, a little saddened that that might be Maddie's take on the situation.

"She made me promise I wouldn't try to get with you. Well I guess you don't need my help. But I still promise not to knock on your door some drunken night."

"Thanks," I said, "Same here."

She laughed, then coughed and sneezed and snorted in an adorably disgusting way. "Let it lapse!" she hooted, bringing back my term from earlier "That's hilarious."

Later, when it was my turn to be sick, she looked after me, then when Maddie was sick, we let her boyfriend take care of it, although I'd be lying if I didn't say there was a part of me that thought I could be doing a better job.

-Tyler/Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: So this was Christmas...

Now that I have a couple of free minutes though I just want to let you know how I am... tired! Holy smokes y'all, I have had to work extra-hard to pay the rent on my new place, and it ain't even that great. I really appreciate what Ryan was doing for me with the last place even if the environment wasn't so healthy, and, well, all that other shit that went down between us. But I'll always know that the motivation for the breaks he was giving me was, well, what it was, no matter how much he denies it.

November was already busy enough. I moved in with Maddie and her sister Charlie, who I hadn't met or seen prior to moving day. She showed up with just a duffel bag, which made me already like her since she reminds me of me - someone who travels around without much of an agenda and is happy to float through life, and I mean that as a compliment. America's a great country to just drift through, and honestly I wish I was brave enough to get out on the road as a woman the way I was as a man.

Seeing them together, they're definitely two sides of the same coin... the disorganized, chaotic, sarcastic Charlie and the tidy, friendly Maddie. They bicker, but in real sisterly way where they have each other's back if someone else were to step on their toes. And then there's their appearances... they have the same genetic code, the same face, the same body essentially, but they do very different things with it - Maddie with her long ombre hair and makeup, Charlie with her short, boyish shag, piercings and tattoos. One favors dresses and tights, one wears jeans and men's tees with comic book characters on them.

Given all that... I mean, I'm not a total hayseed, I've been around. Based on everything about her, I wasn't all that surprised when my guess was confirmed abd found out Charli is a lesbian. It did make me feel oddly self-conscious about being around her - like, what does she think of me? Just some "straight girl"? I don't style myself as someone who was born a man and spent many years happily dating women... I can't even "come out" to her about that because it's not really part of my backstory as Valerie. Maybe I just want credibility for not being as "vanilla" as I seem, for all the things I've seen, and done... and been.

But there hasn't been a ton of time to dwell on that anyway. It's not like I've been home a lot.

Between 8 hour days at the coffee shop and sometimes 6-hour events with the caterer, I was on my feet for almost the whole month of December, and when I did get a day off the last thing I wanted to do was shop for Christmas presents. Having time to sit and think about the season just made me feel alone and awful because, well... look at where life has taken me. I never, ever felt bad about leaving my "real" family behind (except for Carrie, who I'm so lucky knows where and who I am, but it's not like we visit much, and we go weeks without texting) but the season really underscored some of the negative feels that go along with my situation.

I mean, I have Valerie's family, and they're nice "normal" Upstate New York people. They want me to know they love me and care about me and wish I would come "home" for Christmas, but I really wasn't feeling like intruding. When I started getting Christmas letters - forwarded from my old address because of course I forgot to let Valerie's mom know I moved - I began to feel guilty that I had taken this girl's place and was taking all the love and togetherness she was supposed to be having and flushing it away.

Of course, it's not really like that. I didn't take Valerie's life. I was perfectly willing to give it back, but she felt that Cynthia's suited her better. But I'll always feel like part of that was charity. I look at all the potential she had in her original life, which I'm doing jack-all with, and think, is there anything she could possibly be getting as Cynthia that was worth this arrangement?

That was the theme of a long, drunken, sobbing voicemail that I left her a few weeks before Christmas - I was at the end of my rope, wondering what the fuck is even going on in my life, and thinking about how it's not too late for us to switch back next year if she wants.

When she responded, she was, um... very understanding. She's had some thoughts of her own but somehow feels free of regrets. On the family question, her thinking is, yes, she misses them, and she tries not to feel bad that she will never see them again as herself, but she tries to look at it as if she decided to move to another country for work or something. As long as she can keep in touch with me, she'll never lose them.

From there, we organized a few meet-ups where she helped me do my Christmas shopping and prep me for the holidays. Last Christmas I was freshly jilted at the altar, so any weirdness in my behavior could be explained away. Now, I'm just... me. Me being Valerie. So I'm pretty well expected to give gifts and join in some holiday fun, and hey I've faked it before, as Lauren and Judith. I can do it, I just haven't been in a position where I'm setting up relationships with these people for the rest of my life. I wanted some guidance from her as to how to behave, and yet I know that part of me being Valerie permanently is, however I am, that's how "Val" is now, and everyone around me just has to get used to it. Still, knowing all the backstories helps: which topics to avoid, which relatives have drama with others, and of course being warned about the 15-year-old second-cousin who hasn't gotten the memo that you're not supposed to look at your relatives that way. 

"Cyn" is doing well, amazed at how her new life seems to fit her like a glove. Loves being around the kids, has freedom to do as she pleases... and even her "Man" and her have gotten pretty close.

"I mean, we haven't decided what the future holds just yet," she said, delicately choosing her words, "...But we discovered fairly quickly that we each seemed to be what the other was looking for. He's supportive and considerate and funny, and I've always seen myself as an "old soul" so the age difference - whatever it actually is - doesn't bug me. Plus, he's hot! A silver fox!" A man with the heart of a woman... isn't that what every gal wants?

She looked down at her ring - technically just a prop but obviously meaningful to her - "We've toyed with the idea of going all the way and having a kid of our own... is that weird?"

I said, in our world, nothing's weird anymore.

I did pretty well at the family visit, nodded along with the old memories, tried to come up with good excuses why I haven't been around much this year, and made promises (probably idle ones) to be more available in 2019. I tried my best to accept that this love was not for me, but that didn't mean it wasn't nice to receive. And to marvel a bit at the fact that I'm now the kind of person who appreciates a nice makeup kit as a Christmas Gift. (I don't wear a lot of makeup but I do enjoy mascara and eyeliner.)

There was one gift that really gave me pause, and it came from Valerie/Cynthia herself. At the end of our shopping and gabbing, she produced a small white envelope. I was a little dismayed because I hadn't thought to get her anything. She said not to worry about it, and asked me to open it in front of her.

Inside was a check.

I'm not going to tell you how much, but it was sizeable.

I raised an uncomfortable eyebrow. "Um... is this, like, payment for Cynthia's life? Because I really can't accept anything like that..."

"No, it's... well, it's a gift that I'd always wanted. Something I was never able to give myself. After Josh and I were, uh... settled, we had talked about getting me some... surgery."

"Surgery?"

She pointed at my chest and cleared her throat.

"It was just always in the back of my mind, but there was so much to consider, never a good time, and better uses for the money. And it would have had to be after we started our family. Well, now I have the money, and the family, but not the need, so I thought... this would be a good way to use my good fortune. Take the money. Don't use it for that if you don't want to, but know that it's on the table. The money is yours."

I was dumbstruck. I could hardly bring myself to accept it, but Cyn wouldn't take no for an answer. I'll admit the idea had occurred to me in moments of frustration, that it would be nice to reduce my size a little. Decrease my pains, maybe work out more as a result. Stop dipping my tits in every condiment on a table. I'd have to put myself through the stress of buying a new wardrobe. I don't know. It was a fantasy, and one I didn't indulge in much because I was only borrowing this body and now that I have the opportunity it feels wrong to do anything to reshape this body, even though it's mine. But I have the money and the suggestion that, if I don't want that, I can do as I please... just be aware this is a one time offer.(Believe me I would never dream of asking Val/Cyn for a handout. Not my style.)
Lots to think a out heading into this new year, that's for sure.

-Val/Ty

Daryl/Magda: Mismatches

If you're going to get changed into a different person, and it looks like there's a good chance you'll stay that way, there's a certain logic in moving away from both your real hometown and where your new identity lived, and to someplace like New York City.  Many large cities would probably do the trick, I suppose, but New York is so big and is such a hub that I can do things that might get noticed in other cities without much question.  It may be something as small as sitting down at a lunch counter in Harlem and having some fried chicken without much more than a little side-eye, or nobody at the movie theater caring about a weird double feature.  They'll let you be.

We were initially kind of worried about that when J.T. and I started going out, especially since he was kind of famous at one point, but there were some pictures taken, a couple websites that tried to frame a cougar narrative, but, eventually, it sort of became no big deal.  Older woman/younger guy is unusual, but seeing we dig each other makes it something of a non-story.

And we do like each other.  For a while we thought it might just be the thrill of the new or unusual, but I've been here for a couple months, and it hasn't always been complete fun, we've become really comfortable together, and good.  He was kind of nervous about me moving in at first, but it works, and we both look forward to how our weird schedules intersect.

Unfortunately, his rehearsal schedule didn't line up well with Pete's anti-Halloween dinner, which was aggressively come-as-you-are because folks like us don't need another level of make-up, costuming, and play-acting.  He isn't really sure he belongs at that sort of thing anyway, having just been someone else for one cycle and then dropped back into his life like it hasn't happened until I showed up.  Not that everyone who came is in my boat - Annette came, although to be fair, she's 22 and basically spent all he college years as someone else, so most of her friends from that period are Inn people.

She was one of the first to get to the function room Pete had rented, enthusiastically helping decorate; I imagine they love her attitude at whichever publishing company is exploiting her as an unpaid intern.  She taped Pete on the shoulder and broke off to say hi and asking if I wanted a name tag, which was more complicated than usual - between the standard "Hello, My Name Is ____" and the "My Pronouns Are ___/___" that has apparently started gaining use,  she customized them to include "Also Known As ____".  Hers said "Annette", "Ravi & Benjamin", "she/her"; Pete's said "Pete", "a bunch", "he/him".  I opted for "Daryl", "Magda", "they/their". I half expected them to tell me to choose a side, but Annette said anybody being a jerk about how someone else identified was getting kicked out.

Pete gave a little chuckle as she went back to decorating.  "Never thought Millennials and their political correctness would make a bit of sense, but in this case..."

"Dude, you do know that I'm not actually this old, and she's, like, whatever we're calling the generation after that, right?"  Not wanting to get into that, I looked down and raised an eyebrow.  "Wearing heels to your 'come as you are' party, huh?"

"Am I?  Holy shit, I am!  I swear, April's feet have been deformed by long hours in the Executive Assistant uniform to the point where I walk around my house on tiptoe and boots with a couple extra inches feel normal.  But I guess it beats being short.  I'm not quite Tylerie tiny, but every inch counts."  I was kind of surprised he picked up my play on Tyler's names, but apparently it tickled him.

He asked how I was enjoying Magda's job, and I shrugged.  "It's not really what I want to do with the rest of my life, but it's something I can do for now.  I kind of like punching a clock rather than working long hours to make an impossible deadline, too.  At least for now.  How about you?"

He shrugged.  "Young, old, man, woman, black, white, asian, I'm apparently the glue that holds an office together.  Speaking of which..."  A matching couple was filling in their name tags, and Pete brought me over to introduce us.  "Daryl, this is Jenn and David; guys, this is Daryl. Or Magda.  'Magdaryl'. It's up in the air right now."

That immediately clicked with the man in the skinny jeans and blow-dried hair.  "You're the one dating J.T.!  I had such a crush on him when I was in junior high!"  She suddenly realized how she must look.  "Not the usual person to say that, huh?"

"You'd be surprised."  I turned to her date, wearing a much looser pair of jeans and t-shirt, hair gathered into a ponytail at the base of the head rather than higher-up.  "Don't be jealous; J.T. is very much taken."  I extended a hand and David grabbed it kind of tentatively, maybe not sure how to process the flurry of names Pete had thrown at him along with the camisole under my White Sox Jersey.  I want wearing makeup but did have hairpins in, so I was sending some mixed signals.

I thought he and I might have something to talk about, given our similar age and sex changes, but he didn't seem to like he wanted to; honestly, even though I as talking sports and action movies and the like while complaining about bras and heels, I think he saw me as too close to the worst way he could see things going for him.

Jenn wasn't really negative, at least; as much as she clearly either hadn't stated thinking like a guy or was relishing the chance not to, she complained less and lived vicariously more.  She had plenty of questions about where Tyler got his shoes and apparently listened to a lot of the same podcasts as Annette. 

We all mingled a bit, but never really got far from one another - Pete has a pretty decent contact list of Inn people, but even in New York, there weren't enough for the size of the space he rented, at least that could do this kind of Halloween party (or were in the mood for it).  I'd kind of hoped to make some contacts that might give me a chance to maybe find a new career, but that didn't really happening.  Eventually I ran back into Jenn, who had had a few.  "This is the weirdest party I've ever been to.  So many girls and it's a complete sausage fest!  Shouldn't it be, like 50/50?  Or 25/25/25/25, cause some folks stay the same, generally speaking?"

"Well, I figure those guys just shrug and deal with it, right?  They know what they're doing and don't have to reach out.  I don't know why there's not more girls who became guys here or on the blog and stuff, though."

"Oh, trust me, most of us are not going to complain about bosses suddenly listening and shorter bathroom lines and clothes that have actual useful sizes."  I turned around and saw a cheerful-looking guy with a somewhat unruly Afro but a big smile; his name tag said "Juliet", "Jonah", "he/him".

"Well, when you put it like that..."  Jenn probably would have expanded on it, but David came over and was clearly ready to be done for the night, so they left.

Juliet waved and said they probably had the right idea.  "I bet your legs are staying to run down like my brain is."  She wasn't wrong, so we headed out to grab a snack (another great thing about New York is bakeries open until 3am).

It turns out we are kind of opposite sides of the same coin, me a young black man who became a middle-aged white woman, her a white woman in her early fifties who changed to a young black guy by choice.  Apparently she and her husband visited the Inn a few years back and made it back to their old life okay, only to have him go off on a "business trip" this May that left someone else in his body to explain he was leaving her for someone else, as someone else - apparently they'd been carrying on this affair for years and found the perfect new lives to claim.  She despaired, and then when she found out through another Inn person she knew that Krystle was putting this boy's body for sale--

"Please tell me you don't refer to black men as 'boy' or just casually talk about them being for sale."

"What?  Oh God, no...  At least I don't think...  I didn't mean that!"

"It doesn't matter what you mean, it matters what people hear.  You've gotta be real careful - just because you may still think like a white woman and talk about white woman things, coming out of that mouth, it's gonna sound like you're making fun to some people."

"I guess.  Hardly seems right."

"Welcome to being black in America.  I miss a lot about it, but..."  I suddenly felt pretty bad about finishing that sentence; as much as things in my real life can be unfair, I kind of feel like escaping them by becoming white is a cheat, and don't really feel grateful for it.

"Hm.  Well, I guess that's the karmic price for getting a chance to start again in college.  Not that being black is a price!  Ugh, I'm not so terrible at this when I don't have to think about it.  Or am I?"

"You probably are, but don't worry too much.  I was a giant nerd who didn't fit in either, and I turned out okay enough for J.T."

"But did you have to deal with this?"  She pointed at the mop of hair on her head.  "I let it grow out because all the cool black people when I was growing up in the 70s did this, but it just won't behave!"

"When did you last have a trim?"

"I don't know, two or three weeks ago?"

"Yeah, you're gonna want to find a barber you like and go every week.  It doesn't take that long, and if you just sit and listen while you wait, you'll get a pretty good education on being a black man."

"Sounds like this education could be more expensive than the college one!"

"Well, just think of what you're not spending on makeup, bras, pantyhose..."

"I guess.  Well, I did decide I wanted to do things differently.  But fair warning, I'm going to call you a lot."

I said that was okay, but she hasn't yet.

By the time I got home, J.T. was on the couch, watching TV.  "How was Curse Club?"

I say down and put my feet on his lap for him to massage.  "Kind of fun.  Weird having everyone treat me like I'm one of the ones who knows what he's doing."

"She's doing, based on last night."

I took the name tag I'd removed and folded in half out of my purse.  "They're doing, based on this."

"I'm not sure I approve of you going to parties where they don't think of you as a woman.  Does that make me a bad Inn Person?"

"Nah, I like that you know who you are and want me to feel as sure, although I kind of like not being sure.  Makes us special."

"Well, I guess opposites attract."

I thought about joking about "Junah" (portmanteau nickname a work in progress) then, but things were heading in a fun direction, so I just said "I guess so" and leaned in for a kiss.

-Magdaryl

Tyler/Valerie: On the Dotted Line

I don't exactly know how it happened, but somewhere along the way I started actually having a life.

Somewhere among all the 6 AM girltalks with Alexa, sassing Rafe at work, and hunting for apartments with Maddie, I started thinking to myself, I actually like things about this life. I'm starting to take a little bit more ownership of it, beyond just choosing a new place to live: I got my hair cut to a shoulder length wavy Kristen Bell look that I much prefer over the fairy tale princess halfway-down-my-back style I had maintained from Valerie. I started buying more clothes for myself, and not just for functional purposes but because I think they might look good on me. And I'm seeing less and less reasons not to give in to Maddie's insistence that we start some kind of business together.

It gives me a bit of pause because if we're living together and invested in a business, that could easily be too much of each other. But it's my best option to make something of myself right now. I just had to hope before I committed to anything that I didn't end up getting sick of her - I warned her I can be a bit of a house-mother and it's not a role I love.

So we went out and we found someplace that looks good, only we need a third roommate to cover costs. Nobody else we know seems to be looking. All seemed hopeless, until Maddie gave a wincing "Welllll, there is one option..."

Her sister, she explains, is looking to move back to New York after living in Asheville, NC for a while. Getting her to admit this was like pulling a tooth. "We're twins, but she's not really like me... she's a bit wild, impulsive."

"Listen, if you vouch for her, I'm sure she's fine."

Maddie nodded in a way that seemed to say "What choice do I have?"

Charli, Maddie's sister, agreed to the place sight unseen. It was all such a whirlwind because we need to move in on the 1st of November since I already gave Ryan my notice and time was running out when we found this place.

He played dumb as to why I might want to leave, and I generalized that this was no longer the right environment for me, as if it ever was. I thanked him and Alexa for the break they got me on the rent but I'm doing okay now. And I really don't know if I can spend another moment pretending he and I did not have sex behind Alexa's back while I thought they were breaking up, because I gave in to that little crush I had.

Alexa said she was sad to see me go and leave her as the only girl in the house. I said we could hang out anytime, and even though she should hate my guts (if she ever finds out, and doubly so  because I kept it from her) I hope she knows I meant it.

"One other thing," I said to Maddie as we were preparing to sign on the dotted line, "If worst comes to worst and I... give in to temptation and invite Rafe over now and again, you won't judge me, will you?"

She managed a sympathetic smirk. "I would never! Not out loud anyway."

I smiled. "Good friend."

"You said he was good, right?"

"I... very reluctantly admitted he has some talent, yes." Embarrassingly, I will admit to you here that "good" doesn't really cover it.

"Well, every girl has needs. But if you get too carried away - remember, he's totally not boyfriend material - I won't hesitate to smack some sense into you."

"By all means."

"I love you too much not to."

That last bit gave me pause. I'm still getting used to the way women throw around words of affection with each other. It's hard not to feel like my old heterosexual male self is being teased out a little bit hearing it even thought I know that's not what she means.

Off to pack!

-Tyler/Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: How did I let this happen?

So, I'm still living with Ryan and the guys while I wait for Maddie to get out of her lease. Life, on the whole, is miserable and unfulfilling, and every day I question the wisdom of staying here - especially if this is what I've let become of me.

There has been one unexpected bright spot, which is a little bittersweet. See, I've made a new friend.

One morning, I just couldn't sleep. The guys were being loud and I've gotten so tired of being the "bad guy," the "house mom" trying to keep them quiet and well-behaved that I just let them go and suffered. Surely this must be some kind of female rite of passage, minimizing your own needs because it's too much trouble and you worry about sounding like a nag.

Eventually, they quieted down, but I was stricken by insomnia for the rest of the night. I stayed up reading from probably 3 until 5 AM, at which point I realized I was working at 6:30 and it was time to start getting ready.

So I got up, got in the shower and went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast while I dried off. I was halfway dressed, standing in my jeans and bra when I got caught up reading about the Kavanaugh hearings.

Then all of a sudden, in walks Alexa, just coming in from a morning run.

"Hey," she says, noticing I'm transfixed on my tablet, "What are you reading about?"

For a half a second I felt embarrassed - I'm there in my bra, my tits virtually fully out there - but then I realize she doesn't care, and I don't care, and we start talking. I started to summarize the article for her. And before I know it, I'm really more weirded out that I'm having an adult conversation with Alexa, a girl I honestly didn't think I could stand.

From there, we started bumping into each other more and more and exchanging pleasantries and everything and even having running text conversations. And along the way I realized that maybe I only disliked her because I prejudged her based on her appearance, or because I saw her as competition for Ryan. Now I dislike Ryan (secretly) but Alexa has actually done nothing wrong to me. And I'm realizing she's pretty ok.

Then I realized... I've wronged her.

I mean, I slept with her boyfriend. I thought they were breaking up, but I seriously could have used more discretion. (It's also no excuse that I thought I was getting a new body soon after.) I'm content to lay that at the feet of Ryan since before, I had no personal relationship with Alexa and I was duped, and she is being duped. but now we're all buddy-buddy and every second I don't come clean to her I actually am doing something wrong.

We had this really great conversation the other day sort of clearing the air - at least as far as she knew - about her theory that of why I was really standoffish toward her, how "I" was Ryan's old friend and protective of him and she was the new girl. How she thought I was cool and wished we could become better friends, but it never seemed like a good time to strike up a one-on-one conversation. And now here we are, several mornings per week having coffee together at 6 AM!

It's nice - honestly at this point I really crave female friendship because I love that they don't stare at my chest while we talk (well, some do) - but it feels so tainted and wrong and honestly I deserve to be whupped over this one. This is the kind of shit that always makes me want to run away, only I can't this time.

Dang, y'all.

-Val

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)

Pete/April: My New Role

I have to admit, it was strange changing from being Brigette to April. From being a tall, lean, beauteous African-American goddess to being a petite, even mousy-looking office girl was very trippy. But I've come to like it. As much as I happen to think April is a pretty girl, she doesn't turn heads the way that Brigette did. I foudn her wardrobe is distinctly not geared toward dropping jaws or showing anything off - more for comfort and cuteness. She does have an LBD or two in the wardrobe but her body isn't exactly glamorous.

It's been an adjustment. I feel like I can't just walk into a place with the same attention-grabbing energy that I had as Brigette. In fact, on my first day at Homeward, I tried using the same attitude toward people that I had as Brigette - which some would call overbearing but I call confident - and by noon people were asking what had gotten into me, and I got the sense that I needed to tone it down, that they were used to a very subdued, quietly intelligent April. No big deal, I can do that.

I mean, I could have said "This is the new me, deal with it" but truth be told, I don't feel it in myself anymore. I look in the mirror and I see this person and I feel compelled to act how I think she would - which is the approach that I think annoyed Daryl when we went out together as Elaine and Brig, but now it's totally different too.

Now I'm Asian instead of Black... I did feel like I was losing something I had become very fond of, although some of my Inn friends have pointed out that it's kind of icky that I relished being non-white the way I did/do. And I'm sorry but I feel like you're either going to mope about it or you're going to embrace it and I chose the latter, and I still do. Two days after I got back to the City, a guy on the street asked me for directions, then when I hesitated, he snapped angrily, "Do you even speak English?" I responded by muttering some Asian-sounding gibberish and walking away. I get the sense that this is something that might happen a few more times before my time as April is over.

So. I'm April, personal assistant to Homeward CEO and Founder Lena Howard, a (small-scale, relatively speaking) would-be lifestyle maven. I let David know right off the bat just how lucky he was to have me, because no matter what you think of how I choose to live my life I have always conducted myself with the utmost competence and dignity in the workplace. I all but secured Brigette a promotion following her return.. I've worked in a lot of different fields. I've seen things, I know things. Yes, I'm capable of arranging someone's calendar.

So we've become sort of a two-headed boss. It's funny to read about Jenn wishing she had become Lena because I was thinking the same thing; it would make things so much easier for me, and would probably take less of a toll on those kids and their relationship. But we have to play the hand we're dealt. So I watch David grope around trying to get the hang of managing a company (I told you it's small time, only about 100 people) and deal with people beneath him and leave the decisions to the department heads. He just has to show up, nod and smile, dress as Jenn directs him to, and follow my lead, and maybe by the end of the year people won't think poor Lena's totally lost touch.

The sad thing about all this is where it leaves my personal life. As I watched Tyler's datebook fill up - even as dramatic as she can be some times (highly entertaining don't you think?) I wished I could join in on the scene, but I had promised Brigette I wouldn't entangle her with any relationships. It seems only fair that I offer April the same courtesy since the whole world thinks she's still with Zack, Whatever happens between Jenn and David, they're pretty well in it together, so that leaves me as the third wheel - as usual - left at home with myself.

(Looks down)

Well, it could be worse ;)

-Pete/Apey

Tyler: Tears of Joy

I've been up night after night waiting for the result. Somehow it wouldn't feel real to me until it happened. Any number of things can go wrong, you know, and I was just waiting for the old Tyler Blake Luck to rear its ugly head.

Last night around 3 AM it happened.

I got the text.

"It's done.

"OMG crying.

"Tears of joy."

I really was going to become Cynthia. I didn't see any other option. I couldn't keep bouncing around year after year. It was a good enough offer... a great offer. Settle down, be part of a family, do some good in this world and enjoy a certain amount of freedom to be... well, somebody, I guess. Not me, though.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't slip into someone else's life. Not that one. So I turned to the only other person I knew who was as broken as me.

Every conversation I'd had with Valerie had gotten more and more grim as time went on. I would talk to her about handing her life back to her and her eyes would dim, she'd look away. We both knew the truth but I didn't want to say it because you're supposed to want your life back, and if you're someone like me, you're supposed to want out of a life you've been stuck with, if it leaves you looking and living like this. Valerie Stewart's life is a good one. She's young, she's healthy, she's pretty, she has the whole world at her feet.

"But I've gotta be honest with you Tyler," she sighed, seemingly on the brink of tears, "I don't recognize the person in front of me. And I think if I went back, I would just walk right into the ocean."

And we weren't talking about any pounds and inches I had gained, or the way I was wearing my hair that day or the clothes I'd picked out for myself. Valerie's life, ever since she was a teenager, had been geared around two two objectives: work with kids, and marry Josh and have kids of her own with him.

One of these things was still technically possible, sure, but I think she had become really disheartened by the way getting a year stolen from you by the Inn put her off her path. She was heartbroken, a wound that would probably never heal, stemming from a breakup she'll probably never really get closure on because she didn't get to have it happen to her face (closure, I've always maintained, is not much of a thing.) If there was ever a lost soul in need of a fresh start, it was her, not me.

It would never have occurred to Cynthia to hand her life over to Val, of course... she had been reading my words, knew my experiences, knew I was in need. Val kept everything private. She didn't even really tell me until the last minutes. Objectively, Val is more equipped to raise kids than I am since she went to school for it. Not that that makes you a "mom" but she also had the desire to be one. I was only ever one out of necessity. Maybe I will be again someday.

It would be foolish to think that becoming Cynthia can help her outrun her heartache. I can tell you from experience that that shit sticks with you for many lives, when someone is missing from your life that you think should be there. But being in a new life, having people look at you a different way, being pointed in a new direction... that helps.

It's not totally selfless, but it's not selfish either. I never coveted Valerie's life, I just think I've done okay with it despite a few fuck-ups. I'd like a chance to spend more than a year as someone, and Valerie's life appeals to me more than Cynthia's. I'm not doing it because I've met someone I love (although sometimes I think I have, it's really not going to happen, I've got to accept.) I'm not doing it because I've got a fabulous career ahead of me. I'm doing it because Valerie's life is something I can probably mold into what I want it to be, in away I could never do with Cynthia. And Val sees that for herself in Cynthia's.

I don't know which of us had the idea first, but it sort of occurred to us in a single look, as she was going over all the great things about Cynthia's life as she saw it - trying to sell me on it when I was having doubts. The way she talked about how good it could be made us both realize what a mismatch it was that I was getting this this opportunity, and she was getting... well, kind of screwed.

Maybe she'll love again. Stranger things have happened, as she's a stepmom and wife on paper but a free woman in practice. The real Cynthia - or whatever her name is - seems reasonable and accommodating. Maybe she'll make a great husband. Or at least a good business partner.

As for me... I'm alone in bed. Lying in my shorts and a very tight tee that Val must have gotten on a trip, or had brought back to her by someone in her family. I haven't asked, there's probably no point. I'm lying here in the small hours of the morning looking at this text, feeling the reflected happiness at this woman for what we've done, and can't help feeling I did the right thing.

Now I've got this to work with. For the first time in a long, long time... it's all up to me, for real. It's scary and exciting. I'm on the verge of my own tears of joy, even though it was more or less official once Val agreed to my proposal. It's real, I'm this... let me try to be happy about it.

And let's see how long it takes me to fuck this up.

- The new Official Valerie Stewart, aka Tyler Blake (deep down, that name will never die.)

Tyler/Valerie: Waiting my turn

I felt good for about a minute after Ryan's and my tryst, but the morning after was extremely rough.

As pleasurable and cathartic as it had been to act on the feelings that had been bubbling inside me since I first laid eyes on the guy, it was extremely tainted knowing that I was going to be leaving Val's life soon, and that bogging her down with more drama was specifically what I didn't want to do.

The feeling seemed mutual, as he was unable to even look me in the eye the next morning. It was then that I realized that as much as it felt like things were over between him and Alexa, they actually weren't yet. He finally admitted later that day, "We were texting today... she wants me to go out to California, and I'm going to."

"Yeah," I said sheepishly, "You should."

It was a tough situation. I couldn't not be hurt, but I had no claim over this guy, no right to mess around with him. This was the closest thing to making good on it that I could offer - to pretend it had never happened.

He went. We've hardly texted.

After that, I set about trying to execute Cynthia's plan.

Originally, she had eyed the end of summer for her trip to the Inn, meaning I would visit in the "last" spot, the one where the body I leave behind is basically nowhere for the better part of a year. I can hardly reckon with the implications of that, nor with the logistics of having to visit that Inn and get my body messed with twice in a year, at least once with unknown results. Scary, but, that's kind of how I do things... leap before I look.

But we had a chunk of reservations at the Inn at our disposal. Not impossible to move things around. I got in touch with Val to see if she would be okay with us shuffling things around.

"You're really going for it, huh?" she asked over coffee. "Taking the deal?"

"What choice do I have?" I shrugged, "I'm a person without a body, and this is the only offer on the table. And it's a pretty good offer."

"I'll say," she said, some kind of envy in her voice. "You just don't seem happy about it."

"Well yeah," I said, "This isn't who I envisioned ending up being, but no matter what I hoped for it's not likely to be as good as this. I just... don't like being backed into it. Feeling like I have no other options."

"No," she said coldly, "I guess not."

I took a breath. "Val, I'm extremely sorry for everything that's happened to your life this year. With Josh, and... well, I just want you to know I did the best I could under the circumstances."

She muttered something to the effect of not holding me responsible for her ex's actions - at one point it felt like she did.

By now, Cynthia will be waiting to turn into her erstwhile husband. He got the body that would have been mine, whatever that may have been. Then it's my turn, and the rest of my life begins as a beautiful blonde mother of three in the suburbs.

Here goes,

-Tyler, Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: Going Away Present

This is all my fault. I was weak and stupid. And something about knowing you're going back to the Inn soon makes you wsnt to get your last licks in, you know, in case of the worst.

This post is coming to you from Ryan's bed, where I have chosen to spend the night rather than gathering up my bra and panties and going back to my room. He's sound asleep and I am stealthily writing this on my phone, so excuse any typos please...

Okay, hear me out. Ryan never made it a secret he was pining for me, or Val that is. But with Alexa in the picture I knew I had a buffer. He wasn't the type of guy to stray and I wasn't that type of girl. They were really quite cute together so as much as I was attracted to him I had no desire to break that up. Besides, we're near the end of my term as Val. There was no point in playing with fire, and I had Rafe to play with.

Then I (maybe foolishly?) ended things with Rafe early to spare Val some drama. But with my future somewhat in doubt as I considered Cynthia's offer, I got very very... Lonely.

Coincidentally, Ryan and Alexa were fighting. Not about me, I don't think, just about the relationship in general, the same kinds of stuff I always fought with my partners about, which seems silly and petty from the outside but heavy and important when it's you. They were fighting so much so that she told him not to go with her on their planned trip to California.

So, it's him and me tonight. We were alone. We were drinking. He was talking like they were already broken up. He needed to get his mind off her, so we started talking about "old times." And since they're not my old times, I have to play coy and draw it out of him and not really contribute much. He had the old yearbook out, and I got to see his dorky, skinny, high school self. I wonder if Val still sees him that way, and that's why she doesn't want to be with him.

I blame it on my own problems. Rafe. Career uncertainty. Being on my feet all day.

So, he says, let me give you a footrub. I blush. You had better be very sure you're single before you offer to give someone else a footrub. My feet are aching and Ryan is a hot, charming guy. I just know that if that man touches my foot, we are going to have sex. It's just that simple. If I let him break that barrier, there's no turning back.

I stall a minute - as long as I can, really, but probably only five seconds before my foot is propped on the stool. And it felt good. It was so good to be touched, and it hasn't even been this long, and God knows I've gone longer. After a while I offer him a backrub in return. Well it doesn't take long before that becomes a makeout session, and we both know it's quickly becoming foreplay.

I think, no matter who I become next, whether it's Cynthia, or a man, or someone else, nothing will quite equal the experience of having sex as Val. It's not that it's so good that it would make me want to stay as her, but there's a thrill in seeing how badly your partner really wants you, that I've never had as anyone else. It's blatantly obvious how Ryan had spent his whole life dreaming of a chance to play with Val's body, and he knew just what he wanted to do with it. (Admittedly, on my end, I have to say Rafe was better, but Ryan was definitely more into it.)

And now I lie here... wondering what my next move is. I feel guilty for doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do to Val, leaving her with drama... but it could be good for her to pursue this, if it's anything. I don't know. My head's still spinning, my legs still shaking...

And he's still fast asleep.

Men.

-Ty/Val

Tyler/Valerie: Options?

I have to admit, ever since my meet with Cynthia, I've been struggling with this decision. I don't know if I honestly expected just to float around, trying on body after body for years until somehow, somehow I lucked into something, anything, that I could stick with. And it was probably too much to ask that that body be male, but what right do I have to be picky?

Still, a lifetime of being jerked around means that I'm fishy about all this. One thing Cynthia did when we met was show me text messages with her husband that corroborated the idea that he was accepting a buyout, so to speak, and was going away "quietly." That still puts this firmly in "too good to be true" territory.

I could hardly pick a better life than Cynthia Hutchins' out of a catalog, so long as maleness wasn't on my wishlist. She's close in age to what I'm supposed to be. She's extremely pretty and lives a life of luxury - luxury she informs me will be diminished following her transaction with her current husband, but still a woman of means. There's time and money to build that life into something that I could be happy living. Sort of.

Part of this deal is that Cynthia wants someone who will be good for the kids. Yes, that's a role I've been in before as Judith... I wouldn't say I was the world's greatest mom, but I had the unique challenge of raising a body-swapped and de-aged tween boy who was very willful, but seemed to respect me at least. I don't know anything about Cynthia's stepkids, what they think about their mom or anything... but I do know they think she's who she's always been.

And I know they've already lost their real mom, and unknowingly been abandoned by their real dad. It makes me want to help but I'm not sure it makes me want to raise them. And as much as Cynthia is selling me that I'd be able to do as I please, how can she expect or hope for anything besides me adopting the role of 'mommy'? And then where am I?

I've been lucky in my trips to the Inn, and up until a few weeks ago I felt prepared for even the worst case scenario, since I've seen people get through scenarios way more hellish than anything I've been up against. But it's still stressful. A few weeks ago I would have told you that I would have settled for anything that felt permanent, but now that I'm presented with a choice -- not being forced (not literally anyway) but asked to choose -- I couldn't help but wonder if it would be right for me. If I was slotted into Cynthia Hutchins' life based on the random draw, and told I could keep it if I wanted, once I was in her skin, I doubt you could stop me. But there's such a temptation to take the mystery door.

Temptation that decreased after one conversation.

As I often do when I don't know what to do, I reached out to the only person who's ever really understood me: Meghan Reis.

I asked her to come down to Brooklyn for the weekend and she said she couldn't, but after reading my post she had to call me. We talked all night, too long for me to write-up here, about everything... all my options, all the things that brought me here, how sometimes when I make choices for myself they tend not to work out and how maybe the idea of someone making the decision for me, pointing me at this woman's body and saying "You must be her now" may be my only option.

"You're right," I said, "I've screwed up way too many peoples' lives to take the chance again."

"You never screwed up anyone's life," she said.

"Tell that to Valerie," I sighed.

"Absolutely nothing that has happened to that girl in the past year is your fault."

I started to say, "I dunno Meg... I just keep thinking, maybe this is the one... or maybe if I can just have one more year as a guy..."

"Justin proposed," she cut me off.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I... I don't mean to be all egotistical thinking that has anything to do with your decision, because we're both pretty clear that what we had was in the past, but... Justin proposed to me, and I said yes. We're getting married next year. And I just had to tell you at some point and that point wasn't coming any sooner."

"Wow, I..." I was speechless. "Congratulations...!" I said as sincerely as I could.

"I want you at the wedding... in whatever form you have by then. I don't know if it would be appropriate to have you as a bridesmaid... but the thought did cross my mind."

I was speechless.

"But I'm going to have to know where you'll be in a year for that to work," she noted.

"Yeah..."

I switched the topic over to her and let her fill me in on all the details, paying as much attention as I could as I dug deep into my mind, thinking... how much of my fantasy return to manhood was just me holding out hope for a Meg-Tyler reunion? That I would steal her back from him, even though she's been his longer than she was ever mine? Suddenly I felt very scummy about the whole thing.

That's the crazy thing. I've seen how I can be happy as a woman, but I don't think I could be happy as a man without her. But as a female, those feelings are in check, and my heart and my mind are a little more open. What's more, I seem to like myself more this way.

What a crazy thing to realize...

Clock's ticking on this decision.

-Tyler/Valerie

Tyler/Valerie: Cynthia

Another hot city summer in a female body. A good-looking one where men notice when you start showing skin - or wear anything that gives a hint of your figure. And sue me, that's the least of my worries. Let them look if they need to, let me turn heads on the street, I'm not afraid, as long as they don't get out of line. At least, with the thinner layers and less fabric that women's clothes provide, the less overheated I get going about my business. Guys don't get the benefits of low necklines and high-cropped shorts - I've got to take the wins where I can in this body, you know. IF you had told me five years ago that I'd be kind of excited to be wearing short skirts, I'd have punched you where you stood, but here we are.

Of course with every positive there's an equal or greater negative... flat, humidity-wrecked hair, sunburned cleavage, and of course, underboob sweat. And guys, I've got a lot of underboob to sweat through.

Ripping the Band-Aid Off

I've had a fair amount on my mind since the last time I posted. I was trying really hard to find the "right" time and way to break it off with Rafe. I figured I would be more likely to do it the first time he and I had a blowup about something but somehow he's managed to be a perfect gentleman since I got back from Westchester. Freezing him out for a few days must have really gotten to him. Damn, that meant I had to find a way to level with him, and find some convincing grounds to end it even though, if you asked us both, we'd probably agree we're still having fun.

It's not the best relationship I've ever had (if you can call it that) but it's not the worst, and at it's best it's weirdly very non-dysfunctional, which feels strange.

The other night we were lying in bed and he asked me how I was feeling. He's never done that before. I literally had to sit up, wide-eyed and startled and ask "Who are you?" And that's a loaded question coming from me of course - it occurred to me for a moment that he might not actually be himself. But he looked at me like I was crazy for even asking, and he just shook it off, like "I'm just trying to be nicer, man."

I told him I was just lost in thought about the future. He asked if I meant "our" future. I said just the future in general, you know I don't really want to pour coffee for the rest of my life. Then I asked, "Is there an 'our' future?"

He shrugged, "Why not? We're having fun, aren't we?"

I winced. "I do want more, eventually."

I thought he might react pretty badly, but he just sighed, "You gettin' tired of me, chickpea?"

"No, I just... think a break might be good."

Shit, I thought to myself as soon as I said it, I can't waffle on this and leave the door open.

I could see him getting upset, but in an understated way: "If you call it off, I'm not gonna wait around for you to change your mind."

"I wouldn't expect it."

He sat and thought for a minute and said something kind of unexpected: "You know if you give me some time... just a little while... maybe... I could... I mean, we could..." he stammered, and I stopped him before he could putter to the end of his sentence.

"I can't explain it, but... we don't have that kind of time."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means I've got to go."

"Fine, go then."

And I had to admit, I was a bit hurt that he didn't fight more, but he did make a bit of a play for... something. And I don't doubt his sincerity, but, well... I had to do what I had to do. I threw my clothes on, trying not to linger too long, stuffed my underwear in my bag, and called for a cab home.

A Good Bad Dream

I tossed and turned all night because I had an important meeting in the morning. And when I finally did get to sleep, I had this really vivid dream that I was back at the Trading Post, and I got transformed into Ryan - I was tall and muscular and I had a dick and everything, and I went to bed with his girlfriend Alexa and... I woke up feeling very guilty about all that, very shaken. I also woke up to find I had started my period, as if to rub it in.

So imagine how I felt when I went out to the Kitchen to pour myself a bowl of Cheerios and she was there already eating.

Things are a little icy between us but I think she could sense I had had a rough night so she asked about it, and I said I had ended things with Rafe. She draped her arm around me and said "Girl, I know it hurts, but I know you can do better!" I barely know this girl, and I was semi-attracted to her boyfriend, and he was/is definitely attracted to me, and she was giving me sisterly love. I felt rotten.

Ryan appeared a little after that, and we all talked, although I was not in a very social mood. Ryan made a big show of cozying up to Alexa, as well he should, and it all served to make me feel like the loneliest guy in the world.

Cynthia's Story

It was around 11 I ended up meeting with "Cynthia Hutchins." I hadn't actually wanted to pursue this but Pete convinced me, saying she had gone to the trouble of seeking me out - I said that didn't necessarily bode well, and she agreed sure, but if she meant ill she could have probably approached it some other way. Then we went back and forth over what someone who meant ill for me would actually do and eventually Pete wore me down (as she has a way of doing) so I agreed to meet. I was definitely more curious than I wanted to be.

After I had been to her place, I realized I had seen her in the coffee shop several times. She always looked very put-together - a well-dressed, beautiful and fashionable 30-something with a slim body, pretty blue eyes and silky golden blonde hair. I noticed her, envied her, resented her - as I do a lot of my female customers. Male ones, too. But she was always nice, and now I realize it's because she knew who I was... despite not mentioning the name of the coffee shop, I had at least given enough of a description of Valerie's body that she must have known the moment she found me.

Her husband is probably average height for a man, so that they're about even when she's in her heels, with a young-looking face for his mid-40's but gray hair. Their kids are 13, 12, and 7 -- Cynthia is the stepmother.

I told her there's another coffee shop around the corner where I prefer to talk about these things, away from my friends, customers and co-workers, and she agreed to meet me there. She was looking very prim and proper, and knowing I was going to meet with her made me want to dress up like I was going for a job interview - pleated black skirt, white blouse with scalloped shoulders, hair tied back.

"You look very nice," she said, seemingly sincere. I said she did too, complimenting her earrings in particular, a pair of dangly gold baubles. She stood up to bid me to sit down and I was immediately put off by how she towered over me in her three-inch heels.

"I guess you're wondering... about everything."

I sighed, "I find in these situations it's best to let someone just say whatever they feel they have to, and then if I have any questions, I'll hold them."

"Very well," she said, offering a narrow smile. "I'll be brief."

"No need, I've got all afternoon."

Her smile broadened.

"Five years ago, I did something very uncharacteristic and spontaneous. I took a vacation with a man I hardly knew, to Maine. I was having one of those moments where I wanted to... sorry, you're going to laugh when I say this but it's true... I wanted to quit being myself for a while. Not literally of course, I never would have asked to... well, yes. I just wanted to get away for a while and throw caution to the wind. I met a man online and he suggested we go to Maine. He told me unfortunately, the only place he could get a reservation was thing dingy old Inn, but we'd make the most of it. I had just quit my job, there was no limit how long we could stay.

"After nearly a week of running around like we were teenagers, we woke up in the bodies of the Hutchinses. The original James Hutchins was a widower and was dating a much younger woman, and he ended up choosing to stay with her rather than returning to his children. A disgusting choice, but I benefitted from it so... I can't say I looked unkindly on him for making it."

She cleared her throat. "I'm sure you can relate to trying to make an ad-hoc family work with a person you only barely know." I nodded.

"It was a very appealing life, very much unlike the one I had left. I had chosen career over family... or, it had worked out that way, since I never had a chance at family before. Now I had my youth again, I had beauty, I had money, I had three children who resented me at first, but soon understood that I cared a lot more about them than their ersatz father, even if they didn't quite understand why. For James' part, he... did his best. It was years before the family started to collapse. Or rather, he started to. The pressures of work got to him, and... well, there was an added element because he could only succeed at work with my help, and I started to feel taken-advantage-of, since he worked a job he had no business doing, but that I could, quite easily I think."

"And what's that?"

"James is the Vice President of Research and Development for a Pharmaceutical Company. I was a biochemical engineer, back in Tuscaloosa. It was extremely convenient for him."

"I'll say."

"He wants out. He's tired of faking it. And I'm tired of him neglecting the children we inherited, and of the loveless sham of a marriage we were rushed into. But he's not tired of the money. So we've struck a deal. I will become him, and transfer a certain portion of James' salary to the person he becomes as a way of getting him out of my life."

"Uh huh..." I said, skeptical about all this,

"And my hope was... is... that I could find a person who knows the truth about the Inn, who needs a place to live the rest of her, or his, life. Someone with a proven track record of taking care of others. Tyler... this is a match made in heaven, don't you think?"

My face got hot. I didn't know what to say. "You want me... to just... become you -- Her? Cynthia?"

"I believe that would be best, yes."

I couldn't speak.

She went on. "Before you answer, let me assure you, I don't demand much. My hope is that for at least the immediate present, you would put up the charade of being a loving, caring mother to these kids. Our relationship would be strictly business. You would be free to pursue whatever you wanted. And I mean that in the fullest sense... if you wanted to lounge around and collect an allowance from me, I would let you. If you wanted a divorce, I could easily arrange that, and give you favorable terms. If you wanted to leave and go back to the Inn after a year, I would permit it, even though you would be giving up a lot...

"You would have freedom... Opportunity... Resources to do anything you wanted. Say, for instance... start your own business with my money."

It was scary how good this pitch was. There had to be a catch. Well, of course I already knew what it was: I would have to be Cynthia Hutchins. And if I were, I would probably be her forever.

It's no secret I would really rather live out my life in the sex I was born with, even as much as I've adjusted to the female role. I can't help thinking it's still only temporary. But the amount of things that would have to fall into place to get the body and life I actually want, and to be able to keep it... to accept this offer would be to admit defeat, and give up my slim hope of ever finding that perfect life.

Really, though, to stop fooling myself.

"I'm... flattered," I said. "I'm supposed to go back to the Inn in a few weeks, to give Valerie her life back. When are you..."

"End of August," she said, "You would return to the Inn at the beginning of September."

"What if I... become someone who can't come back? What if I become a kid or a... well, anything could happen. It could be out of my control."

"As long as you're willing, we'll find a way. This is my offer to you, no strings attached. I can virtually guarantee that a person in your situation can't hope for anything better."

I suddenly felt cold in the air-conditioned coffee shop, and grasped my upper arms.

"I don't know, Cynthia. There's a lot to think about. Just answer me one thing."

"Shoot."

"Are you really from Tuscaloosa?"

She smiled. "Roll tide."

I've got some thinking to do.

-Tyler/Valerie/Possible Future Cynthia