Variants Present

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Variants Present

Author’s note: This isnt a continuation of either of the stories I wrote about alternate pasts. But its along the same theme ...

I fell into a deep sleep, and dreamed.

I found myself standing at a strange kind of crossroads in the middle of space. In every direction there were paths, going left, right, even up and down, far too many paths for me to count.

I stood helplessly for a moment, unable to decide what to do.

Then a figure faded into existence beside me, and I turned to watch it become more solid. It was cloaked and hooded in such a way I could be sure of no features, but when it touched my hand I shuddered involuntarily.

But despite my discomfort, I let the creature take my hand, and it pointed to one of the many paths, which lit up from within.

A moment later, a woman appeared, standing on the path that was lit, and she looked at me for a long moment before she spoke.

She might have been pretty once, but it was clear she had lived a hard life - signs of bruises on her face, and far more care and worry lines as well.

Finally, she spoke.

“I’m you, in case you’re wondering. I’m the you you might have been if you had been born female.”

“But what happened to you, to us? You look ...”

“As a child, you watched your mother get into an abusive relationship. Well, I followed in Mommy’s footsteps a little too closely. And I cant leave, in case you’re wondering, because I have kids to think about, just like she did.”

I started weeping.

The creature beside me said, “You were wondering if your life wouldnt have been easier if you had been born a girl. This would have been your fate, would you trade what you have for it?”

“N....No.”

The woman faded, and the creature pointed to another path.

Moments later, a man was standing on that path. If I hadn’t been sure that he was some variation of me, I wouldn’t have guessed it. He was muscular, and had several tattoos on each arm, and he was wearing a prison jumpsuit.

“Yeah, you fairy. I’m you. I’m the you you would have been if you hadnt been trans. “

“So why are you ... me ... us... why are you in jail?”

“Murder. Remember that fight you had with your stepdad? Without the moderating influence of Dorothy, I killed him.”

“Oh, God...”

“They tried me as an adult, and well, here I am. Needless to say, being in prison changed me. I got tired fast of being on the bottom, and so I started working out. Now, nobody messes with me.”

I didnt know what to say, I just sank slowly to my knees.

My companion said, “Yes, this is what your fate would have been. Do you need to see more?”

I shook my head, and shakingly said, “Thank you for showing me. I guess I have more to be grateful of than I knew. I always thought being trans was a handicap, a curse, or a burden. I ... I never dreamed it was the best possible outcome. “

The paths faded, and then my companion did as well, and I woke to find my pillow stained with tears.

“I guess I better start being more grateful, then.” I said, and slid off the bed to get down on my knees ......

End.

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Comments

A Profound Truth

Of the many gifts that have been in my life,family, career, love, I think of one group as "Terrible Gifts": Alcoholism, Multiple Sclerosis and 'Transness' are the three biggies. None of these would I have wished for but each in their own way have lead me to a life that has been deeper, richer and more blessed. Yes, it took a while to see the blessings but my life has been and continues to be magical and wondrous because of these "Terrible Gifts".

Dorothy, in just a few well written words, you have captured the essence of our task to own and see our own "Terrible Gifts". Great work.

Thank You.

thank you, Joani

Its still an ongoing process, but I'm learning to be grateful for my struggles. They are what make me who I am, after all

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a good story from

The amazing wonderful author Dorothy Colleen Belion.

Compared to that girly girl I'm the tatooed guy...

uh huh...

Sure right... ill go pump some iron for awhile.

pumping iron?

(Dottie imagines Jaci attaching a bicycle pump to a steam iron...)

giggles.

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and?

What? The steam is so pretty....

interesting

First off before I comment on the story I have to turn my attention to you two squabblers......first off you two are now offically grounded for the next 2 weeks...Period..
As to this last bit of your writing, I just keep getting more and more impressed by the depth of your work my child. I am truly in awe of this last piece as it made me really think about my own past life & other possibilities. thank you for the insight .I am humbled by your talent....HUGS & warm snuggles

Papa

but but but...

Papa! It's not my fault!

Dottie made me do it.

thank you, Papa

And I promise to be good, if only Jaci would stop being so backwards and trying to tell me she's not a girl!

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turns

to Dottie with her hands on the hips of her school girl uniform*

Your the girly girl and your the one arguing with me. I tell the truth!"

Looks at dottie

In her ballerina outfit.

Yeah...right...

See Papa!

Nailed it to the wall.

The concept of your story hit so close to where I live, it parted the hair on my head down the middle. So no harm no blood drawn, good shot. Having the gift of 20 / 20 hind sight I have discovered the same thing your character sussed out. There was no way to have transverse my life from my childhood to being sixty years old with out being exactly who I was at each pivotal point in my life. I needed to be screwed up enough make the same stupid decisions I made to have survived the path I had to live. Taking a line of sight along my life I unwaveringly traveled a very point to point route. If I dropped a single thread in this process I could have unraveled my entire life. My life has been like Jack Sparrow stepping of the top off the mast of his sinking boat onto the dock.
But then almost rotting in jail and hung. Simply put, if I was what my parents and that ilk wanted, I would have died and none of the good deeds in my life would have died with me. Your story, my dear, shows me and helping me in understanding that. Blessings be to you Dorothy for that gift of wisdom.

Huggles
Baily's misbehaving Faerie
Michele

With those with open eyes the world reads like a book

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thanks, Michele

I'm glad the message came through

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Someone else entirely

janet_L.'s picture

I've gone through stages of wishng I'd just been born a girl, but reached the conclusion if I'd been born cisgender of either gender, I'd be someone entirely different.

The discomfort with my gender pushed me away from many male paths, and being mistaken for a male pushed me into having many experiences I would be unlikely to have had if I'd been born female.

I know my dad would probably have made me fix my BMW even if I'd been a girl - BMWs were pretty exotic in the '70s and there weren't a lot of mechanics which would work on 'em - but my folks might have insisted on me having something more sensible - like the 1968 Ford Galaxie 500 they sold to help me pay for the BMW.

On the other hand, if I'd ben a cisgender boy, I'd probably not have been involved in the folk dance club where I had the friend who triggered my BMW lust. I'd probably have been after a Mustang or a TR6.

Likewise I probably wouldn't have gotten dragooned into as many plumbing and carpentry projects if I'd been a girl to start off with but I'd probably have had a lot more pressure to go into teaching like most of the women in my family have. . . (My niece figures she's a fifth generation teacher.)

thanks, Janet

I agree, we'd be totally different people as cisgender boys or girls.

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We are what He needed us to be

RobertaME's picture

I'm in the process of putting together a sequel to For God So Loved the World..., my fictionalized autobiography. It's based on a dream I had a few months ago where I lived my life as a girl. That is, what my life would have looked like if I was born female instead of living the life I did. I wasn't in control of what "Roberta" did... I could just watch "our" life unfold through her eyes.

It was a total nightmare.

I don't want to give away any spoilers, but it's the darkest thing I've ever written. Darker than The Road to Hell. Darker than some of the short stories I wrote once that I'm glad were lost in a hard drive crash.

Your story here shows the same thing. We cannot see all ends. No matter how bad life may seem at times, there are ways it could be so very much worse. Thanks for sharing this, Dorothy. It's needed, more than you think.

writing dark stuff

can be kinda therapeutic - better out than in, as they say. That said, I have a pile of huggles that you can help yourself too should you need them after writing that dark version of your life.

and if my story helped in any way, I'm very grateful.

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