A Phone Call

With an arm around me, Ma explained. She got a call from Mr. Daimon, and he explained to her the situation – that I came to him this morning asking for help, and he said, after a physical examination by Dr. Griffin that included an ultrasound test, he said that she confirmed I was intersexed, specifically the type where a female had external genitalia that looked male. He also said that they did have my blood sent out for testing, but it would just confirm it.

Ma then called Dad at work, and after Dad called Mr. Daimon and after he gave Dad the same story, they both rushed home. I wasn’t there, of course, and I wasn’t answering my cell phone. After an hour of waiting, they decided to go out and look for me.

This was a tall order, of course, but they did know my phone was turned on, and they knew I installed a phone tracker in my home laptop just in case I lost my phone, or it got stolen. So they spent a few minutes trying to figure out what the password to my computer was, and Dad rightly guessed “Gallifrey.”

It wasn’t a purely lucky guess – I mean who would guess “Gallifrey?” But Dad and I were both fans of the British sci-fi series, Doctor Who (except he was a fan of the original 1960s-1980s series and I was a fan of the current rebooted series). Guessing my password was “Gallifrey” was an inevitability.

So, using the app, they were able to track me down.

Results

Ma had her arm around me as I told them about my afternoon.

“… so I decided to see how it would be like, you know,” I said. “I bought this outfit at the mall,” I gestured to myself, “and walked around, sorta like trying it out for size? You know?”

“How was it,” Dad asked.

“It worked, actually. No one noticed. And they didn’t even notice my voice when I talked.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Let me see,” Ma said. She stood and pulled me up.

As I stood there, Ma looked me up and down. She made me turn around, too.

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” she said, “but you’re looking very good. Sexy even. Especially with the tights. What made you even try tights?”

“Actually,” I said in embarrassment, “I thought it was a pair of jeans when I picked them.”

Ma giggled. “you’re kidding.”

She then reached to my shoulder, felt around there, and then felt around my back. She was feeling for the bra straps.

“You’re wearing a bra,” she said, neither asking nor accusing.

“Yeah.” I read her mind. “It’s a size 36B.”

“Big girl,” she giggled. “What made you pick that size?”

“Is 36B big?”

“Not the cup size – I was thinking more about the band size.”

“Band size?”

“This.” And then she snapped the strap on my back. “Like me, I’m a 34D – my band size is about twenty-nine. Yours must be around thirty-four.”

“Well…”

“So how did you end up picking that size?”

“By accident, I guess. Without thinking, everything I got was in medium sizes.”

“But girls’ mediums aren’t boys’ mediums – girls’ sizes are smaller.”

“I learned that the hard way.”

Ma giggled and I smiled at her wanly. “Those things must be awfully tight,” she said.

I shrugged. “A little bit. But not at all uncomfortable.” I picked at the waistband of my tights. “It’s fairly okay – there’s lotsa stretch in girl’s clothes.”

“Usually. Anyway, your outfit’s very form-fitting and sexy, actually.”

“Maaa… I don’t need to hear that!”

She kissed me on the cheek. “Sorry, Val.”

I sat down. I was worried we were getting too much attention with me and Ma standing. Ma sat down as well.

“So, what else did Mr. Daimon say?” I wanted to know what kind of story he told my folks.

“Val,” Dad said carefully, “Mr. Daimon and Dr. Griffin said they explained your condition to you…”

I nodded. “Yeah. That I’m actually a girl…”

“You gotta know, Val, that doesn’t matter to us – boy or girl, you’re still our Val, and we love you.”

That made me tear up again, and Ma gave me another long hug.

“What’s important is that you’re healthy, safe and happy,” Dad said. “Mr. Daimon said that Dr. Griffin is recommending an operation. Assuming that further examination will show what she hopes it will, the operation can help, but it means you’ll have to transition into a regular girl… with the chance of having a family, or babies even: a regular life, if you want it…” Dad paused. “What do you think of that?”

In my little four-hour walkabout, I’ve thought of life as a girl. Not because of any fake intersex condition, but because of the change I’ve already gone through as the first part of my transformation. I was already a girl now, biologically, at least. So it wasn’t really a choice. Right now, living with being a girl was something I was trying to get a grip on. A real fear was if it turned out I couldn’t live with it - was there even a way back? But then from what I know, there was none: all that surgery could do was to make me look like a guy but not a real one. Maybe the Endowment knows how to change me back. But would they want to?

But the thing was, though, I actually enjoyed myself a little bit that afternoon. I was about to pee myself – I was so scared - but, amazingly, I still enjoyed myself. I even thought I might be good at it... if being a girl was something you could practice at being, that is. In any case, the results of my experiment were better than I imagined it would be.

“I don’t know about having kids and all that, Dad,” I answered. “I was all right being a guy…”

“I understand, kid. Whatever you decide is fine with your mother and me.”

“… although,” Ma interrupted, “according to Mr. Daimon, we need to make a decision soon. The school has a narrow window to schedule an operation for us…”

“Cost is no object,” Dad said. “He said your high school scholarship will take care of any medical expenses. But we need to decide soon.

“We can take tomorrow and Sunday to talk it over if you want. Your mom doesn’t have work on Saturdays, and I can call my assistant and tell her I won’t be coming in tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I think we need to go home now,” he said. “I think we’ve given these people enough of a show.” He nodded to the people in the park. The crowd around us had unaccountably grown. For whatever reason, lots of people were gathering around the Millennium Monument, and they were all looking at us (even though they tried to appear they weren’t). We were the only people sitting by the fountain, and we were gathering attention, although, later, Ma would say they were all looking at me more than them.

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me