Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 2499

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike, est. 2007)
Part 2499
by Angharad

Copyright© 2014 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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I sat paralysed in my study. I was glad Simon wasn’t there, Danni or is it Danny, would have had such a dressing down, she’d have had no skin left. I looked at the time—soccer training. I ran upstairs, Danni was lying on her bed curled up in a foetal position. I wasn’t sure what to do. Risking more opprobrium, I sat beside her on the bed. If she felt as tired as I did, the last thing she’d want to do was play football.

“Sweetheart,” I said stroking her shoulder, “You need to get ready for soccer training.”

“I’m not going.”

“Would you like to phone them then and tell them.”

“No.”

“You could explain that you were really a boy and that your adoptive mother had screwed you up so much you thought you were a girl. Perhaps they could transfer you to the boy’s team? Though you’d have to be careful in the showers.”

“I’m sorry, Mummy.”

“Sorry for what?” The list was longer than usual.

“For saying you’d messed me up, you didn’t. I did that myself.”

“I think Pia or Peter played a significant part in that, don’t you?”

“An’ those French blokes who messed with us.”

“Life is rarely simple or straightforward, we have memories and experiences and sometimes they’re triggered or misremembered and we project the whole mess onto something which may or may not be related. The problem is we remember the mess rather than the facts and it grows more powerful than it really was. This is what I believe they say happens with phobias.”

“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying, Mummy.”

“I wonder if I can put it more simply—um...” I desperately tried to think of an example. “When I was in school...”

“Was that a girls’ school like mine?”

“No such luck, I was in a boys’ school, which you already know.”

“Sorry, I’d forgotten.”

“Okay, I told you that I had long girlish hair which I grew because...”

“You were a girl.”

“Partly, but also because it annoyed my dad and the headmaster.”

“Was that the guy I was gonna hit at the funeral?”

“Mr Whitehead’s, yes it was. I’d forgotten all about that.”

“I hadn’t—it’s not every day you get to threaten a teacher.”

“I hope not.”

She chuckled quietly, “Old Whitehead was okay, really.”

“He was a very good man.”

“’Cos he left you that old Jag?”

“No, he tried to help me without me knowing it, without the others knowing it.”

“Like Professor Snape in the last Harry Potter film? He was secretly on Harry’s side and Voldemort killed him.” Obviously the film or book had had more effect on her than it did me.

“Yes, in a way but not quite so dramatically.” Then I thought about the way Mr Whitehead was stabbed by the thug in front of Danny and I. How, he’d pushed us to safety or tried to. I also reflected how Danny, had driven my car at the thug who was trying to kill me. That had taken some courage. I thought I’d remind her of that.

“Do you remember that afternoon when he died, those two scumbags who tried to kill me as well?”

“Yeah, scumbag is about right for them, they were real bags of scum.”

“D’you remember who saved me from being stabbed that afternoon?”

“Mr Whitehead.”

“Mr Whitehead was already mortally wounded by then, remember I put one of them down and the other came at me with the knife. Do you remember who saved me?”

“The car did, didn’t it?”

“Only because some very plucky child of mine drove it into him.”

“Oh,” I’m sure she blushed.

“I owe you my life, young lady.”

“Nah, you’d have taken him out.”

“I don’t think I would have been able to. No, you saved my life. Thank you.”

She sat up on the bed, streaks of mascara or eyeliner down her cheeks. “That’s okay, Mummy, glad I could help.”

I hugged her, “You silly goose,” I said squeezing her tightly to me.

“You took me an’ Billie in when no one else was interested. You showed us love. No one had ever given me a bike for Christmas before. If we’d gone to that home in Wantage, I dunno what woulda happened, ’specially if Billie had like died.”

“That would have happened at some point I’m afraid.”

“An’ she’d have had to stay as a boy, she’da been so unhappy.”

I didn’t know if this was true or not, the girls had seen Billie since she’d died and they’d said her days as a girl with me were the happiest of her life. I wanted to believe it, I really did.

“As unhappy as you if you have to stay as a girl?”

“Yeah, I’m so unhappy.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I wanna be your daughter but I’m like your adopted son.”

“What?”

She shrugged.

“It wasn’t you who messed me up, it was me. I was jealous of the girls, they seemed to be loved more than I was. Part of me liked the idea of sexy clothes and wearing makeup.”

“Sexy clothes? I don’t have any.”

“Julie does.”

“You fancied her when you first came here, didn’t you?”

“I dunno if I actually fancied her or wanted to wear her clothes an’ her makeup, paint my nails an’ wear high heels. She was sex on legs an’ I wanted to be wanted like she was.”

“Oh, Danni, “ I said hugging her tight again, tears were streaming down my face. “Why couldn’t I see that?”

“’Cos I like hid it. I did tell Billie that if I were a girl I’d wanna look like Julie. I still would.”

“Have you told Stephanie how you felt, about looking like Julie?”

“Don’t think so, why?”

“You must.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if I’ve compounded a huge mistake.”

“What?”

“I wonder if encouraging you to cross dress with Peter was a great mistake compounded when I agreed they should do a vaginoplasy.”

“Wasn’t much else they could do, was there?”

“We all assumed it was for the better, now I see it was a mistake. I’ll try and find a surgeon to reconstruct as much as he or she can. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“What for? I wanna be your daughter, it’s okay, it was only a bit of skin anyway, I can live without it—I mean you do, so I can too.”

Now I felt really confused. “Hang on, you just told me you didn’t want to be a girl now you’re saying you do?”

“Well, a girl can change her mind, can’t she—besides, as a girl I can borrow Julie’s clothes, can’t do that as a boy.”

“You could have done, but you’d have needed some sort of breast prosthesis.”

“Ugh no, they’ve gotta be my boobs, like Julie.”

I looked at this child, was she confused or was it me? Did she really want to be female or was she an unfortunate cross dresser who’d been mutilated by her friend and the surgeons? I think I was further away from knowing the answer than I was yesterday.

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Comments

Confusion, confusion, confusion -

Yeah; tell me about it.

Confusion, confusion, confusion - uncertainty, frustration, dissatisfaction and finally despair.

Seems to be a typical tee-girl's lot. What will be, will be.

bev_1.jpg

We must not see these things as crisises

It should not be so difficult to root about in the gender cellar until we find our place. It is the human culture that is mistaken, not us. Perhaps it all originated in the Bible (And God created them male and female). One argument that I have increasingly seen surfacing these days is that since the supposed creative perfection ended when Eve took the Apple and did eat, humanity was no longer perfect and therefore no longer purely male and female, hence the gender "confusion" of now days.

Of course present day homophones manipulate the data where they can, thus perpetuating the suffering.

In the annals of history, there are recorded cultures in which this gender divide was not so rigid. One of them was in a culture in southern Iraq, where the children were allowed to live as the gender that seemed most pleasing to them. Of course Saddam had his way with them, while stealing their oil. I think they were called the Mandeans. I happened to meet an Iraqi Muslim in a restaurant the other night, and the encounter reminded me of them. I speak to anyone who is civil now days.

I've been following Danni's thrashing about, being mindful of my own. I can't say I will return to living as a male. There will most certainly be no surgery, but I understand her discomfiture. I am with a group of people here in Oregon who would likely support some exploration on my part, though not any flip flopping I would guess.

Please keep us posted on "The Trials of Danni" won't you?

Khadijah

Knowledge

I knew what I was when I was around three. I am now officially confused. Poor Danni/Danny

"a girl can change her mind...."

I guess that's the key. Glad to see Danni and Cathy talking and appreciating eachother. Time to go to soccer practice.

Now THIS is what I like exploring...

Nothing about a person is cut and dry, black or white: there are so many subtle shades of grey in between. Angharad, thank you so much for letting us explore Danni's pysche. Her psyche isn't all female, nor is it quite male either.

It's a unique mix we will soon find out. But don't spill the beans too early. Let us savor this :)

Sephrena

Ah, Danielle finally stated

Ah, Danielle finally stated the "key" to it all. I want to be your daughter, but I am your adopted son".
She just does not feel like she is truly a female member of the family as of yet. I think Cathy and Simon need to immediately consider a re-adoption ceremony for a certain Danielle Cameron, making her feel not only that she is now an official daughter, but also looked upon as a true young woman by her parents. By doing this, I really believe a lot of her "hurt" will go away. Yes, there will still be the usual teenager issues, but that is just the growing up part of life. If she has endured something at school, I am wondering if it just may be related to her comment. not the boy part, but rather the adopted part of it. Janice Lynn

Ah, Danielle finally stated....

I had the same thoughts as I was reading that line. While not going through a re-adoption ceremony maybe (since they know an understanding judge) they could get the adoption paperwork amended to reflect the name and gender change so that it would appear that they adopted a girl named Danielle rather than a boy named Daniel. Cathy and Simon could then make a big deal about presenting Danni with the new paperwork and thus help her to hide the gender change as well if she ever had to show proof of adoption.

It's sounding...

It's sounding more and more like Danni's not all one or the other... And that's an issue. Hopefully, "soon" they can figure out who he/she is.

Thank you for a challenging story.
Annette

You have to feel

sorry for Cathy here, After all if Danni is not sure who she is then her mother stands little chance of finding the answer to this ongoing puzzle, Pretty much all Cathy can do is be there ,listen , and help her child in whatever way she can. At least Danni seems to have distanced herself from any reconstructive surgery , From what i have read it would not be what Danni remembered from her pre Pia days, Medical science is wonderful but there are still limitiations , Maybe in years to come things might change, But as things stand now for Danni perhaps the status quo is her best option...

Kirri