Sooners than Laters Part 1
I’m awake before the alarm clock goes off and it jars my dreams apart and I open my eyes and reality crashes in around me.
Today’s the day.
I literally can’t put this off anymore.
I roll out of bed and there’s the jiggle there, not really there, but definitely there.
Hey, there I’m Deidre.
Actually, legally I’m Derek but Derek just so happen to not have been downloaded into Deidre’s body. Heck Deidre wasn’t downloaded into the right body. I knew that when I started school and when there was the divide in pre-k.
That’s when they start enforcing the so called assignment of gender and all that BS.
I get up and I head into the bathroom. I have one of my own since I was like 12 and my mom stopped wanting the bathroom getting guy dirtied.
Yeah… well turns out that was never me but it was dad.
I look at myself in the mirror and tear up.
It’s hard, just hard and I’m not doing it anymore and I look at my frame, me…six foot tall and every bit of it not Deidre. I’m in guy mode with these little starter boobs and it’s on my size twenty frame and there’s muscle and ridges and hair that I never wanted.
I pick up the razor.
Then I hear my door open and Quinn is there.
“Morning beautiful.” She says as she kisses me.
I have more tears. “I’m not beautiful Quinn.”
“You are Dee, you’re amazing.”
“I don’t feel amazing.”
She set’s the coffee’s down on the counter and she reaches up and she kisses me. “You don’t let yourself feel at all Dee.”
See Quinn’s my girlfriend….
She’s my best friend and we met in the third grade and she was the girl with the boy’s name. Or that was the flak that they gave her then and honestly for like years. But to me she was the girl that would play with me. Quinn was the girl that I told stuff I never ever told anyone else to and that included who I really was.
We went from friends to dating in grade seven when I came out to her when puberty was starting and I felt so dysphoric I wanted to die.
And I thought about it…I didn’t get close, I mean I’m not wired that way but. It was there, and at that age.
She held me when I came out and when I was sort of done crying she kissed me.
It was our, both of ours first kiss and she looked at me completely serious and said. “I rub off.”
“Rub off?” I was twelve okay, I didn’t get it.
“Masturbate, you know like jerking off…only…only I don’t, I don’t just like boys. Girls get me horny too.”
“Oh….” Yep twelve, I was swift wasn’t I?
She kissed me again, harder and even though I had nothing she cupped my boobs until I got it through my head that she meant me. She liked girls too and she meant me. That’s when we started becoming a couple.
………………. Quinn’s kissing has gotten better over the years. And honestly her being herself has helped her so much.
My turn I guess.
I man she’s helped me too and kept me sane really too but I’m getting to where I can’t take it anymore all over again too.
It’s the end of ninth grade start of the summer and it’s the start of what should be…well should be the start of everything.
I take a big breath and get out of everything and hop into the shower and Quinn whistles in a low way that has me blushing. I look at her and she’s smile sipping her coffee. No judging, just…she actually likes me.
Showers are hard for me sometimes, naked is hard sometimes. And I will admit to sometimes because I can look now at these little changes that I’ve started with and there are days that I feel okay, even hopeful.
Then there’s those bad dysphoria days and those really suck.
And then there’s today and I’m full of nerves and that sucks too.
Today I’m coming out to my dad.
It’s just me and him too my mom died awhile back from lung cancer and she left us and it was even more than awkward for me after that because who could I talk to after that?
Well, I didn’t hold out a lot of hope from that since he’s a preacher.
And here in Oklahoma in the Midwest it’s pretty much godly country.
And honestly I don’t have a lot of problems with god, I think that I have problems with the people that talk to god and that think that they know what they’re talking about. More than that part I really detest the double standards that I see all the time from people.
Even in our church too, there are those who Soooo don’t get the casting of first stones thing or judge not.
I hate fake people; I hate fake people that say they’re one thing and are really not even close to it or trying to be that.
“Ow…ow…son of a clown!”
No I don’t like clowns.
“No I’m hemmoraging1”
Quinn sticks her face in the shower. “Piffle that’s nothing just a shave cut.”
“Who invented this frikkin flat handled razor thingy?”
She grins and shrugs. “It’s a ladies razor so like some dood.”
Yeah I’m okay with Quinn seeing me in the shower. We’re dating and we’re best friends too.
She’s been around that long that she has stayed overnight since we were little and yeah since we’re dating we’ve not been in the same bedroom at nights.
Dad thinks that daylight hours is somehow like sex prohibitive or something?
I shave and it’s a pain really sort of and I am glad that I don’t have to do some places because of the internet hormones I’ve been taking and stuff plus Quinn helping me wax in places that I can’t reach on my way too big make me frown waaaay too much frame.
Seriously there’s nothing to set you off in a dys-moment like having a hairy back.
I get out and dry off being careful around some of the tender bits and then it’s out and getting dressed and doing my hair.
I’m wearing panties and they’re cotton and they’re practical and I’m wearing a simple bra too. It’s not like I’m out enough that I can afford much. I like my bra actually it’s easy for me to put on and it’s a light sort of tope meets pink color that actually is sort of pretty and Quinn got me both at Target.
My hair is pretty easy I have a sort of messy guys style that my dad has never enjoyed on me since he’s an army chaplain and all of that and to me I sort of want more hair but right now it’s right in that kind of semi-spiked office semi hip thing that you see a lot of in the downtown a lot.
Then it’s getting dressed and that’s… I’m not going to out myself to my dad in a dress. I mean some people could do that kind of thing but I am not one of those people.
A scoop necked shirt from The Gap and my new hoody that is purple and kind of seriously nice in my opinion and I have a pair of capris pants to go with it and sandals.
Then some make-up…just a little liquid concealer. And even it out and some powder and then a real little eye liner and shadow but no mascara because I’m actually not all that confident with it and I put on some lip gloss and take a step back.
I’m standing in front of myself in my own house for the first time ever.
I look okay too but at the same time there’s still.
All six feet of me and all a hundred and seventy three pounds and I’ve actually lost a little weight.
And those danged shoulders and my whole middle too…I mean I’m a lot different from Derek and I do feel a lot better too but it’s still.
I mean there’s all these other girls that are my age that are transitioning and have been transitioning that totally pass and not just pass but they’re pretty too.
Quinn comes in and she wraps her arms around me and she’s all dressed and stuff and she looks great as usual. I mean she’s a cheerleader…and some stereotypes go without saying.
Actually Quinn busts some of those herself with her being really curvy and she has a butt and she has like boobs for miles and she never let the skinny girls like rule all that thigh gap bullshit over her.
Or the whole race thing too, and you wouldn’t think it’d be a big deal and stuff these days but it still is and a lot of school is still white and Cis in charge and being the in-crowd.
I love her hair too, she’s always had great hair and yeah she’s done all sorts of stuff to it with like relaxing it and straightening it and stuff and right now she has what I call ribbon curls…that whole old school pin up curls with like all of the sexiness and stuff.
Actually she reminds me of another black girl I follow on Tumblr called Kat Blaque who has the same hair so much of the time and they look a lot alike, except Quinn doesn’t have glasses.
But she’s like totally wonderful and supportive and she’s being supportive now as we get ready and we head downstairs and I have my heart in my throat as I’m very literally coming out.
I can smell the coffee maker going with a fresh pot and there’s the sizzle of bacon and dad’s sort of cooking and reading the paper.
And he’s jotting notes as usual for the sermon for this Sunday.
He looks up and instead of the usual greeting he just looks at me and he’s staring.
“What in the heck is going on?”
I sort of stop and I freeze up.
“Why are you dressed in women’s clothes?”
“I…They’re…they my clothes.”
“No…these are not you clothes and this isn’t funny.”
(Sniffle.) “No…no it’s not funny dad and these are mine.”
He sets the paper down. “I don’t understand?”
“Like a crossdresser.”
Quinn speaks up. “No sir, that’s a transvestite Dee’s not a transvestite she’s a girl.”
I gesture at myself. “I am, it’s short for Deidre.”
“We named you Derek.”
“You thought I was a boy.”
“You are a boy; you were born with some pretty good indicators of that.”
I touch myself over my chest and my heart. “Yeah but that, that doesn’t mean a thing dad when I’ve always been a girl inside of myself.”
“I think your mother and I might have noticed?”
“I was hiding…you’re in the church and I’m…I’m so damned big and just…I felt way too scared and way too ugly to ever tell you guys.”
He’s looking at me. “I don’t understand…I don’t get this and I don’t understand it…it just seems…”
I just stare at him and I’m trying not to bawl and I’m trying not to pee myself either and he sets the paper down and he gets up and he flips the bacon and stuff and adds hash browns and eggs after a bit and Quinn has taken me by the hand and she led me to the kitchen table and then gets me a coffee and herself another one.
Dad looks over at her as he’s cooking. “So you two are best friends?”
She nods. “Yes sir.”
“Actually still dating sir, I’m bisexual.”
He’s looking at her and he’s looking at me and he does that reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose headache thing. “How….No…no I don’t want to know…you too still haven’t done anything here right…I mean anything at all?”
Quinn gives him her tough girl look and sips her coffee in the whole internet ‘sip-tea’ way and says. “You house, your roof, your rules sir.”
I see dad instantly get that and then he looks like he’s going to say something and then he’s doing that chewing on nothing working his jaw thing and he shakes his head.
“You two are not doing any of this stuff by halves are you?”
I look at him a little surprised.
He looks at me. “Oh…oh no that’s not me ruling on anything about this whole thing.”
Quinn looks at him. “Dee told you, she came out to you because there is no other choice.”
He looks at her frowning.
She looks right back all stunning and defiant and powerful with like just how she’s like doing this and doing it for me.
“She literally can’t do this anymore Dave, she can’t. I know Dee better than myself and I’ve known her since I was like twelve.”
He looks at me.
He stares at me.
“You have breasts.”
I nod and have the urge to cover up.
“Not just a stuffed bra?”
I shake my head no.
I say. “Hormones sir…from online.”
He works his jaw and he finishes the food and he dishes it all out to us and I’m so not hungry my nerves are at that point where I think that the smell is making me sick.
He takes his food and the paper and his notes. “I’ll be in my office, I’d really appreciate it if you don’t leave the house like this right now until I have some time and get a chance to run this through my head and to pray on it for a while.”
I swallow hard.
I look at him and I nod.
He looks at me.
Drinks his coffee. “Don’t get changed though…I’ll be in and out all day and I want this…the way you look to still be here like this…until I work it all through my head.”
Did dad just say it was alright to stay dressed?”
I’m actually kind of confused.
And I’m still confused and scared and sort of left hanging as I watch him go to his office and he closes the door.
Quinn comes over to me and she slips onto my lap and she pulls me close. “Well that could have gone worse.”
She’s right, she’s right and I know that she’s right and yet I’m still losing it because of my nerves and starting to hang onto her and cry anyways.
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