Come back soon…part five.

It’s so cool what she did.

Mom…and what she shared too it’s likely the most personal mother daughter talk we’ve had. I mean not that we have had that many but still. I can imagine that she’s never really told that many people about the stuff that she had just share with me.

To actually have that for me is a bigger treasure than the things she brought me but I’ll take these things too.

“Here honey wait a second.”

She calls for a nurse and gets me unhooked and they don’t mind since I’m on a drip and I’m better hydrated now. Mind you if I keep crying like I have I won’t be. Does it hit other girls, women like me the same way? I mean when you finally stop hiding and you let the chunks of your leaden life fall away do you just end up crying more than you can ever remember?

Once their done it’s all nervous time and me getting undressed and thankfully mom doesn’t stay there to was and the hot water feels nice. Really nice and I get it good and steamy in there and I sweat. I don’t even add the cold water right away. I just stand close to the cold water then I take my shower puff and just squeeze hot water over me repeatedly I want to get clean like really clean right down to my pores.

I used to do this a lot even home because I was so…walled in that this as small as this is and my long hair were the only things that I could really do. I mean Marlene she and I we were M&M Mike and Marlene not Marlene and Jennifer.

I have to say that her not being here, her not coming to see me yet say stuff right?

And I cry in the shower to myself as I take the hair remover stuff and start using it.

Wow, it kinda stinks in that chemical perm kinda way and at the same time it’s a female scent too and one that my head’s trying to process with my heart and stuff. And it’s a good distraction too because holy frijoles its kind nasty and burny and when I use the “razor” but more like kinda an ice scraper thing it comes away clean…and smooth, so smooth I (Happy-sob) and then I laugh as the oddest thought comes to mind. Living in Alaska and removing my Nair in the shower with an ice scraper.

“Jenny you okay?”

Jenny…I sigh and a happy smile. “Ye…yeah mom just kind of unhairy happy.”

“Feel good?”

“Oh mom you have no idea.”

“Oh yes I do young lady, parts and hormones aside hair’s hair and I am not a fan of mine.”

“Okay I guess it’s just it’s one of the things that I’ve hated so much about myself.”

“Then it’s a good thing that it’s getting fixed right?”

(Sniffle.) “Definitely.”

I start to do it more and in earnest and there’s some parts that I likely shouldn’t have done but the burn isn’t any worse in fact I kind of have this kind of little gritted smile and a tale that as my crotch becomes bare. Yes I did it there and it’s not a sex thing I just don’t want guy thatch in my panties. I don’t want my branch and berries there either I mean why couldn’t I just have a proper wreath and be like I should have been?

I make myself snerk at the very un-Christmas like Christmas analogy.

……Dear Santa I want a vagina for Christmas.

Kinda sad but at the same time I can actually remember writing those letters to the North pole as a kid and because I was writing Santa and not my folks I would actually write. “Please Santa I hate being a boy can you make me a girl.”

I think my first one was in pink and red crayons and I was like seven or eight.
I’m so grateful for the really big grate drain that the shower has here. There was a lifetime worth of guy fur that is gone now from everywhere but my head. I so want that gone too and at the same time as red as the Nair has me in places I don’t want to do that. If I can look better. Different than Mike in another way I’ll do that but I just don’t want to mess with my face because at least after a shave I can do the cover and conceal maybe.

I turn the cold water on now and I lather myself up and oh…oh it’s this vanilla peach kind of scent and it’s entirely femme and there’s like even these exfoliating beads and I scrub down twice and it even hurt a little in the Naired areas but it was so worth washing years of guy off of me.

Mom calls out. “Jennifer let me do your hair in the sink you need a trim.”
“Okay.” I’m actually not going to fight it because guys don’t care about their hair so I’ve barely ever did anything like get rid of my split ends.
I turn the shower off and mom hands me towels and I dry off and then she hands me.

A gaff…

Okay I’ve read about these and what t-girl really hasn’t and it’s not really like spandex but this one’s closer to a heavy duty hose or like the stuff that they make leggings out of. It’s oddly comfortable and not. I mean it’s tucking and stuff and I’d rather not have to do it but it’s not as bad as some stories I’ve read say.

Actually this is kinda thongish and that takes getting used to more than the front feelings.

I smile though because the whole thong thing is way more a girl thing than a guy thing and to me thongs on a man better be flip-flops and he’d best be Australian.

No just eww.

Not that I’m into guys.

Nope, I still like girls, women.

I’m a translesbian.

And now I’m thinking about Marlene again.

Panties are next and then mom passes me a bra…and gel inserts.

I open the shower curtain. “Mom? How?”

She smiles. “I guessed from Mike’s dress shirts for work and I went from there.”

“Oh.”

Then she steps back and she looks at me.

“Mom?”

“Come here Jenny.”

She does this tug and she pulls me in front of the sink and the pretty big mirror there and I look…I mean my face sort of still is me but with how skinny I am… I diet and I muscle burn I read about it and I know it’s not something that you should really do but I was so sick of the way that I looked.

But without that bulge of grossness there and in a cute pair of cotton panties I look.

I look more me than I ever had in my life.

I stare…and stare and tears spill out. “Oh Momma…” and I mean that in that best little girl way too.

Then mom really does it.

“Just a sec honey.” I look at her and she uses a wash cloth and gets all of her make-up off and she steps in and she leans in and hugs me and she does this cheek to cheek thing and…we look like each other.

I mean I’m still me and the differences are the ones that my damned XY wrought but without make-up we have a really close complexion. We have the same structure of our cheekbones and stuff around the eyes.

“See like mother like daughter.” She says and there’s a real smile there that melts away so much of the pain.

“I…I thought I looked like you sometimes.” I’m not crying because the reality has kind of stunned me. I mean how many times do you get those whole there see she’s been right all along moments?

“You do and likely will even more once we get you into treatment.”

“Yeah…” I’m still mesmerised and mom actually does this thing like a nurse and helps me dress into my first real bra and then adds in the flesh toned silicone inserts and I’m morphing almost into myself.

It’s such a strong realization of seeing the real me it hurts so much and in such a good way…but it’s also double edged too because as she’s doing this for me I realize she does this too now. And she’s not crying or looking like her doing this is taking her to that place that’d crush me if it happened instead she’s looking at me with shiny eyed pride.

“You ready for more Jenny.”

I nod and now there’s some tears coming. “Yes Momma.”

She gets a chair from in my room and backs it to the sink and gets me sat down to start on my hair and she wipes the tears away and kisses my forehead. “You keep this up and we will have to seriously invest in a lot of waterproof make-up girl.”