“Thanks, Dr. Stead-- um, Tessa, for seeing me at the last minute. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. It just so happens my Monday client had to cancel our session at the last minute. Glad we could slip you in.” She walked over with two Perrier water bottles and handed one to Shy, who was already seated in their usual spot on the couch.
“Thanks.” Shy politely replied.
Tessa situated herself in her chair, leaned back and crossed her legs. Then, she took the time to remove some lint from her skirt, undetected by Shy, before examining their fidgeting hands intently.
“My mom called me last night.” She started talking. “It didn’t go well, which is nothing new.”
“What are you feeling now?”
“Lots of resentment. I couldn’t do it." Shy got silent only shaking their head. "I don't know how to tell her. The words. They just froze at the back of my tongue. After we hung up, I started beating myself up. Every once in a while I get these brave moments but only to shrink away in the veil of her voice. I somehow convinced myself that living to her expectations is easier. It makes her happy and keeps the peace.” They shook their heads, and the creases in their forehead and furrowed eyebrows deepened. “I don’t want to disappoint her…Not again.”
“Shy, I want you to take a moment and just focus on your breath control. Close your eyes and follow my lead. I want you to imagine a small box…” Shy allowed Tessa’s voice to guide them through the breathing drill. Shy stopped fidgeting as they kicked their legs out and crossed their ankles. The outside low sounds and white noise in the office were clearer than before.
"Let’s go back to the phone conversation you had with your mother last night. Do you remember what you two were discussing before she went silent and changed subjects?”
“After I heard it, I told her that I was not her baby girl. And that I will never be. Her dodging and silence are pro-level. It feels so ‘got damn’ dismissive. Like whatever I am saying means nothing. Like I’m a little petulant child running on her nerves.” Shy awkwardly chuckled.
"Shy, what do you want from your mother?" Tessa asked.
"I want her to see me." Shy said.
“It's also important that you see yourself first."
Shy took a long drink of the Perrier water. “I don’t really feel normal. It's like I’m walking in this perpetual bodysuit that I can't take off. It's heavy. Every time, I look in the mirror, I don't see myself. I see an unnatural bodysuit suit peeking through the silhouettes of my attire. Every day, I wish for it to go away, but it stays.
“It’s like I’m trapped.” Shy took a deep breath. “Gawd, I must sound crazy.”
“No, but it does sound to me like you might be experiencing what we call body dysmorphia. It is common in those who are on the nonbinary transgender spectrum.”
“I don’t think I’m really transgendered.” Shy repeatedly shook their heads then elaborated. “I don't have a strong, persistent desire to live as a man or a woman."
Tessa slowly nodded until Shy completed their thoughts. "Transgendered is a hierarchy that includes nonbinary and binary classes. One who is transgendered binary associates with one dominant gender, male or female. You are describing the nonbinary class--not exclusively male or female. Those who identify as transgender non-binary are often gender non-conforming. They associate with more androgynous or gender-neutral descriptors, often using they/them pronouns. It's a wide spectrum or sliding scale depending on your perspective. Some may better identify with gender-fluid, where their gender expression changes frequently.
"Trans is still the hierarchy as you were assigned female at birth. But there is a distance between your female sex characteristics and your assigned gender. Your mind is interpreting your reality through the prism of maleness. Do you feel that by embracing Sebastian that you would inadvertently dismiss who Shy has become?"
There's no place for him out here. Shy sat quietly thinking. "I can't embrace Sebastian right now.”
"No matter how you feel, if you don't address this, you will always be at war with yourself. The panic. The shame. The lies you tell yourself and those around you. It is a choice."
“So you don’t think I'm crazy.” Shy purposely avoided Tessa’s insights.
“No. I don't have any data to suggest that you are unstable.” She answered curtly before redirecting her client. “Shy, this may seem a bit tangential, but have you been able to find a support group who share similar experiences?”
“How? I'm in the middle of an eternal purgatory of tumbleweeds and Turkey Buzzards.” Shy quipped, in jest. Their hands stopped fidgeting.
“Well, nothing is stopping you from traveling north. Maybe Tucson or Phoenix. And, they are not under the prying eyes of the base.”
“Wait. Are you suggesting that I sneak around?” Shy smiled in a mischievous fashion.
“Absolutely not.” The therapist profusely shook her head. “But, I am saying you need to live authentically. And you can do that with integrity…Shy, when would you say you first noticed the full tilt of Sebastian?”
“That same summer everything went bananas. I had just turned thirteen. It was crazy.” Shy laughed then trailed off as their eyes grazed over the mauve-colored walls, then to the city line.
“So, there was this… girl from another neighborhood. Her name was Sandra. I would see her from time to time. She had brown eyes, brown skin. Tall, maybe about five-foot-eight with curly hair; she smiled a lot. I don’t think she noticed me. On my way riding my bike home from school, I always spotted her across the street from our corner store. She was usually talking to her friends, but I never could step to her and say hello. I wanted to, though. I stand there sometimes and imagine walking to her and seeing her smile up close. To be... in her space, able to smell her strawberry lip gloss and shea butter. I always wondered if I were a guy, how things would be different between me and her. I never took the chance to ask her out. To be truthful I had assumed she was not into, well,...she was only into guys.”
“Sometimes, I still have dreams about her. The first crush I never had.” Shy chuckled.
The therapist’s non-reaction gave light for Shy to continue their train of thought.
“It’s pretty abstract but real. I’m actually in another body -- Sebastian’s.”
“Anyway, I’m in my neighborhood. Where I step to this girl. It’s funny because, in reality, I would never step to any girl. But in my dream, as Sebastian, I’m not afraid to approach her. In fact, I love the hunt. I’m thinking I got her and I know she wants me.”
“When I step to her, my smile is as big as New York City lights. She seems to be different, more open. But not in a platonic way. More of a… a seductive way. The girl likes Sebastian’s swag. You know he’s nice with it and knows how to get the ladies.”
Shy sat a little more upright on the green and taupe-colored sofa, their butt snug on the soft-cushioned edge, hands clasped, with firmly-planted feet. Not really relaxed but firm inside their space. Shy’s new posture took up more of the couch than their smaller athletic frame could. Their elbows jut outward and their legs rest in a man-spread stance.
Shy isn’t in this office with Tessa, not anymore; it is Sebastian who picks up the tale. “As I’m walking over to the girl, she says Hey Sebastian, and comes closer to me. She smells so sweet, but I keep my cool and ask, Wassup, girl? Are you with your friends or can we go hang out somewhere? She looks at her friends and gives them a wink while they giggle and tell her, Go on Sis! Tell us the details tomorrow. She turns back to me, tucks her hair behind her ear, and squeezes the English and history books in her arms for dear life. She makes eye contact and says, We can go somewhere. She smiles before blowing out her bubble gum. Pop.
“The dream flashes from outside to a room, a room with expensive, refined decor. It must be her place. She takes my hand and guides me back to her mom’s bedroom. She tryna be grown and I am too; I oblige, follow her lead. As she looks back, biting her lips, I already know what’s about to go down. I have no clue what to do next, but I don’t let her know that. I stay cool and collected. I got this.
“She kisses me and places my arms around the back of her waist as she pulls at my shirt, my pants. I work her shirt off, then pants, then panties as she tickles the back of my neck. As she moves down and kisses me, her hands roll over my chest. I realize it’s not my body, not Shy’s body, I mean. I look like Sebastian, like the body that I see myself in, and as my pants and underwear hit the floor, she draws her hand between my legs and kisses me on the lips before pushing me on the bed.
“She mounts me. I am pure bliss. I feel like me. The real me is being loved, and touched, and savored. I love these dreams.
“But the blissful feeling always dissipates when I am jolted back to reality. I eventually wake up, and I usually wake with a wetness between and along my legs. The first time I thought it was... you know.” Shy gives a self-deprecating laugh. “But when I woke up from the urge to urinate, it was blood. It took a moment for my mind to transition and reconnect itself to Shy – the body I’ve never come to accept or love.”
The room was quiet as Shy stared out the window of the therapist. As they pushed back, their eyebrows furrowed, and their eyes welled up as their body trembled a little.
“Shy, would you mind letting me know why you’re upset right now.” The therapist paused before asking, “How does it make you feel to be Sebastian, in a male body, in a dream, but wake up clearly in a female body?”
Shy’s eyes dashed back to the therapist before looking away, yet again. Shy shook their head, “I hate it. The moment I entered puberty, I lost all sense of who I was. I’m still lost.” As the soft glow of early evening and city lights flickered in the room, Shy sighed and shifted their position on the couch. Shy’s stomach growled.
“Shy. You disappeared on me again.” the therapist asked.
"How do I reconcile the two- me and Sebastian and still be able to live a normal life? Where I don’t destroy my career or force my mother to disown me. I love everything about soldiering. I love my mother. But if I lose her...I'd break." Shy’s voice cracked.
“There is nothing odd about the child wanting their mother’s love and her closeness. That’s part of the bond established during the birth process. However, your dependence on her validation is stifling. That, Shy, is where I’m afraid your sail will sink. That which you are seeking, your happiness, must come from within. You must learn to accept yourself for you and only you. You will learn to accept your mother for who she is as well. She will have her own transformation journey in all of this. Because the Shy she has formed in her mind is not the Shy that actually exists. She will have to reconcile that, and for her, it will feel like a loss. That will take time.
“I am thoroughly impressed by you and your accomplishments. You have managed to take a lionshare of your setbacks on the chin. But in the same vein, you are only human Shy. In spite of all that you have been through, there is still so much possibility in front of you. As complex as our world may feel, sometimes survival starts with just being ourselves. For many of us, that is a great start of a new journey.”
“You asked me what version of myself I want to be, in the last session.” Shy paused. “I thought about it all weekend and couldn’t come up with an answer.”
“You couldn’t come up with an answer or you couldn’t accept the answer.”
Hmph. Shy’s mouth gaped open as if the therapist read their mind. “You are calling me out.”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.”
“In retrospect, I guess I am not ready to accept the answer.”
“Well, then I guess we have some more work to do.” Tessa let the silence linger in the room for a long breath or two.
The clock behind Shy read 18:00 hours.
“Let’s pick this up in our next session.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell your secretary. I plan on heading home for leave.”
“LA, right? Okay, that is fine, we can schedule you once you return.” Tessa stood and approached Shy before escorting them to the door.
“Shy, try to have some fun when you get home, huh? If, and only if, you feel the time is right, have a meaningful conversation with your mother. All will be what it should be. I’m just a phone call away.”
Shy nodded, thanked Tessa and walked out, and headed home for dinner. They needed to be fresh for midterms in the morning.
END OF CHAPTER.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. TWO ROADS BACK TOGETHER (draft version). Copyright © 2022 Shay D. Potter. Written by Shay D. Potter.
Thank you for reading! Share your critiques and feedback by leaving a comment below or emailing me at bebettermediallc@gmail.com.
That was a nice session. Not to deep but enough to feel the turmoil the character is going through. The reluctance accept they/them selves (look at me trying new vernacular). LOL