This is an expanded version of a story which I wrote and posted here two years ago.

The story is dedicated to all young trans-women, particularly teens, who feel that their "condition" will always define or label them. As this story shows, that's not the case at all. Megan Phillips (born Michael) transitions and goes on to become a student, a friend, a doctor, a mother, and a wife - much as any other woman. In the end, she dies having lived her life as a woman, not as a trans-woman or some other term. Like any story, there are tragedies, victories, and side issues that influence life, and Megan is certainly no exception.

I'm posting this in 8 segments, as the entire work is over 78,000 words - a bit lengthy for reading at one seating.

The only warning that I give is that a number of people die due to circumstances in the story. Also, if you are averse to Christians or to associated prayer/Bible reading, this might be worth skipping. Megan becomes a Christian in the story, and while it's not an active part of the story, her faith is touched on from time to time.

I would appreciate any comments or suggestions that you might make. Thank you for any comments.

PROLOGUE

1974-1992

Michael Phillips was born in 1974 to a urological surgeon and his wife. His parents, Tim and Michaela, welcomed the boy with grateful hearts. Michaela struggled mightily through the pregnancy and her doctor warned that any more pregnancies might threaten her life. Begrudgingly, both husband and wife agreed that Michael would grow up as an only child.

In some ways, Tim and Michaela were opposites. Tim was blond, six feet, four inches tall, and had pale skin that looked as if it had never seen the sun. He had the body of a very lean marathon runner. His wife, on the other hand, was five foot, six inches tall and while not overweight, was built solidly. She was the daughter of a Cherokee Indian father and a Comanche Indian mother, and as a result, had darker Native American skin tones.

Tim was a rising star in his profession, and his practice was beyond successful. Being a third generation doctor in the same large metropolitan area of the Midwest didn’t hurt, either.

Michaela could have been a socialite, but chose to use her time by volunteering in several community organizations. She proved to be a quiet leader and with her husband’s connections, she found herself in a leadership role in several organizations.

Michael would grow up with privilege, lacking nothing.

But their son had anything but a normal childhood. Sometime before his fifth birthday, Michael instinctively knew that he was meant to be a girl. He wanted to wear dresses and other clothing that would emphasize femininity, much to the chagrin of his parents. Michael also played “house” with his stuffed animals and had “tea parties” for them. He even used feminine gestures and walked more like a girl than a boy. His parents tried to ignore the behavior, thinking that it was a phase that he would leave behind at some point. Instead, he became ever more vocal about his preferences.

By the time that Michael was ten, he was well aware of the differences between boys and girls. Shortly after he went to bed one evening, Michaela heard talking as she passed his room. Stopping to hear, she heard “Dear God, I know that I’m supposed to thank you and pray for Mom and Dad. But it’s so hard. God, I’m a girl. I’m not a boy. I wish that you would have made me a girl instead of a boy. I want to make friends with all of the girls at school, but I can’t because they look at me and they say ‘He’s a boy’.” I’m not a boy, God. I’m a girl stuck in this stupid boy body. Mom and Dad want me to be a boy, but I can’t. I just can’t. Please let me wake up tomorrow as a girl. Please.”

Michaela ran as quietly as she possibly could to hers’ and Tim’s bedroom, quickly shut the door, and burst into tears. Devastated by her child’s sincerity but not knowing what to do, Michaela needed time to process what she heard. She decided that Michael would have to see a child psychologist. Maybe not even one, but several, she concluded.

Because of Tim’s schedule, it fell to Michaela to handle the issue. She made appointments with four different psychologists. All of them diagnosed their son as transgendered and told them to accept and work with his femininity. They also encouraged them to help Michael to transition to female in his teen years if his feelings of being female continued.

In spite of the psychiatrists’ findings, Tim felt that Michael should be forced into living as a male child regardless. “It’s just a phase, he’ll grow out of it”, he told his wife. She chose to go along with him, believing that her husband should be the leader. But the mother was torn between helping her son in the way that the professionals recommended and trying to placate her husband’s demands.

Tim’s insistence on raising Michael as a boy began to unravel, though. On the child’s eleventh birthday, his parents showered him with a large variety of wrapped presents. As he began to tear into the wrapping of each with a vengeance, it soon became apparent that there were only male oriented toys and games. The boy became increasingly agitated as he neared the end and after opening the last one, the child completely lost his composure in a flood of tears and quickly ran upstairs to his bedroom, leaving his stunned parents looking at each other.

Michaela looked at her husband and asserted, “This isn’t working. We’re going to have to figure out something else.”

Greatly upset about what happened, Tim retorted, “No, we won’t. Mike has to understand that he’s a boy. He can’t be a girl, no matter how much he wishes. He’s just going to have to deal with it.”

The last statement stirred Michaela’s wrath at last. “No, he will not ‘deal with it’. He is who he is. If Mike is a girl, than he’s a girl. Perhaps he’s like others in Native American history. He might be two-spirited and that’s just who he is.”

Sarcastically, Tim answered, “So what do you do with a two-spirited person?”

“You let them live the way they’re meant to live. One of the things that was brought up in a meeting I went to a few weeks ago is how many kids are committing suicide these days. It’s frightening. Do you want our son to be one of those? How hard was it for me to get pregnant? You and I prayed for that child every day while he was in my belly. So don’t tell me that you can somehow pound a square peg into a round hole.”

Tim sighed and asked begrudgingly, “What do you think we should do?”

She thought a minute and quietly answered. “We let him be a girl, but only inside the house. Let him decorate his room like a girl. Let him have some girl clothes. But NOT anywhere outside the house.”

“OK, I can go along with that. But he is to never appear as a girl to anyone else beside the two of us. Understood?”

“Agreed. He’ll just to have to swallow whatever it is that’s going on and still go to school as a boy.”

Initially, Michael was thrilled to decorate his room like a girl, and to purchase girls’ clothes, books, posters, and other furnishings. Michael was also allowed to grow his hair long, and to style it in such a way that it could be modified to appear girlish. This was accepted given his Native American facial features and skin coloring which was halfway between Tim and Michaela’s.

For the next few years, this compromise appeared to work. Michaela purchased items that were meant for girls who were Michael’s age. Every afternoon, he hurried to his room so that he could change clothes and re-style his hair. As much as possible, he spent time in his room as “Megan”, the feminine name that he picked for himself. But between having to be a boy at the private school he attended and the constant bullying because of his feminine demeanor and gestures, Michael was miserable outside the sanctuary of his room. In spite of the bullying, however, he was blessed with considerable fortitude and excelled in his academic pursuits. But he had no friends, as he was “too gay” for the boys and the girls were not willing to accept him as one of their own.

Due to his father’s long work hours and his mother’s community volunteer activities, Michael was left alone in the house for long periods of time. This provided “Megan” the opportunity to move around their 6,000 square feet house. Fortunate in having his own bathroom immediately adjacent to the bedroom, “Megan” learned how to apply makeup, as well. Michael became increasingly convinced that he should have been born as “Megan”.

Michaela sensed her son’s happiness as “Megan”, and on days when Tim was out of town, referred to her as Megan. She wasn’t willing to go completely against her husband’s wishes, but that didn’t stop her from trying to straddle a middle ground the child and her husband. On several occasions, Michaela clandestinely took her son to a shopping mall two hours from their house for a “mother daughter” shopping trip. One of the most memorable days for Megan was going to a department store makeup counter on her 14th birthday and receiving a full makeover. Even though Megan had seen herself in the mirror innumerable times, she gushed, “Mom, I’m pretty! I’m really pretty”.

But Tim didn’t stop trying to push sports like golf and skeet shooting on his son. Michael disliked guns and was hopelessly clumsy at shooting golf balls. At long last, though, Tim managed to find a bit of common ground with his son through running. Though Michael initially objected to running with Tim, he begrudgingly obliged and at times when Tim’s schedule would permit, father and son would join each other for a run around their neighborhood.

But the two failed to bond. Tim didn’t understand, nor did he want to tolerate, his son’s proclivity for everything female. During the rare times when the family was together for dinner, Tim and Michael rarely spoke to each other.

Even with considerable freedom to express his female side and his mother’s tacit if not overwhelming support, Michael’s overall mood sank lower and lower. In his mind, his father would never accept him, school would continue to be a nightmare, and it was far too long to wait until he could leave home. Self-harm became his “way out”. Starting at age 13, Michael began to cut himself on the wrist and forearms. Hiding his marks from his parents proved to be fairly easy, as he normally wore long-sleeve shirts.

Within a year, his arms had several scars from the times that he drew blood in a vain attempt to handle his issues. Sinking ever deeper, though, he began to plan his own demise, reasoning like many teens that there was no way out of his situation. Michael logically concluded that his parents would be better off without his gender errant ways.

But the evening that Michael executed his plan and slashed his wrists severely with a razor blade, Tim sensed something wrong and went to Michael’s room to check on him. He encountered the teen in his bathroom with blood flowing everywhere. Quickly stemming it and calling for an ambulance, an angry Tim berated his son even as he was being loaded into an ambulance for a trip to the ER and week-long stay in the Metro Hospital mental health unit.

Even after that episode, Tim refused to admit that Michael was trying to deal with being a girl in a boy’s body. However, Tim did stop pressuring his son to conform and begrudgingly accepted that he was merely different from other boys. But to Tim, Michael remaining male was a non-negotiable issue.

After recovering from his suicide attempt, Michael became more and more focused on an “underground” way to begin transition from male to female. He spent considerable time in the local library researching anti-androgen drugs. If he could somehow get hold of them, he could restrict muscle development, voice deepening, and increases in height. He could remain like a pre-puberty boy and then add estrogen when he was older to start feminine development like breasts and hips.

It didn’t take long for him to pursue this course. Through his computer, he was able to find some contacts who put him in contact with an overseas pharmacy that didn’t require a prescription. By renting a private mailbox, Michael was able to order the medication using his allowance and sneak it home without his parents being aware of his actions. He would continue this from the time that he was just over fifteen until close to his eighteenth birthday.

His plan worked. Michael retained his pre-adolescent body without maturing into a young male. His voice didn’t change, his shoulders didn’t broaden, and his beard didn’t start growing. For the most part, he stayed much as he was at early puberty. Even his growth stopped at five feet, nine inches – a bit short for a man, but not overly tall for a woman. Tim and Michaela were oblivious, deciding that he was just a “late bloomer”.

At the beginning of his senior year in high school, Tim and Michaela purchased a brand-new Toyota Corolla for their ‘son’. At long last, Michael had the ability to ‘be’ a girl outside of his home. Several times, he put on his “Megan” clothes and slipped out to a mall an hours’ drive from the Phillips home. With his natural feminine gestures, experience in applying makeup, and restyled hair, Michael looked and acted like a girl. As a result, the clerks in the mall treated Michael as they would any young woman. “Megan” savored every opportunity for such activities.

In February of his senior year in high school, Michael began to take a medication containing estrogen. Michael began to develop breasts and accumulate more fat in the hips and thigh area in a manner identical to a young woman. In just four months, he reasoned, I’ll be out of here and can become Megan permanently.

CHAPTER 1

June, 1992

Eighteen-year-old Michael Phillips was almost finished loading all of his belongings into his Toyota Corolla. He was getting ready to embark for summer school prior to his freshman year at a university two hours away. After summer school was finished, he was to immediately begin work on a psychology degree program that would stretch for years until he received his M.D. degree. His mind wasn’t on college or on loading the car, however.

This day, as he loaded the car, Michael realized that he had almost started using estrogen too early. His breasts had grown almost to the point where they were visible if he wore tight or thin clothing. The nipple area was sensitive and sore, and to alleviate the discomfort, he began wearing a sports bra whenever possible. His budding breasts also made loading the car more difficult as he had to avoid bumping them or else experience a few moments of excruciating pain. He was developing hips and his thighs began to accumulate feminine fat. But his weight was slowly dropping, though, an effect of watching his diet carefully. Michael was glad that his parents hadn’t noticed the changes.

Finally, after many trips up and down stairs, he was ready to leave. Alone like usual, he locked the front door and set the alarm. As Michael got into the driver seat of his car, he realized this might be the last time that he would be permitted in the house. In six months, Michael would be Megan, whether or not his parents approved. (He planned to feign illness to keep from coming home at Thanksgiving.) Reluctantly, he started the car and looked back at the front of the house, wondered what life would be like when he returned at Christmas.

June through December, 1992 (Michael’s freshman year in college)

Once he arrived at college, Michael was assigned to a single room in a co-ed dorm where he could live as either gender. He also made the contact with the university’s counseling office. Michael was placed with Sandra Teague, an adjunct professor of psychology who had experience in dealing with transsexual students.

Dr. Teague first contacted Michael by phone. The psychiatrist encouraged Michael to dress as “Megan” for their first appointment. Because of his mall experiences, this act by itself created no issues. But Michael/Megan wanted to leave no doubt in the mind of Dr. Teague.

On the day of his appointment, a somewhat nervous transgender woman got dressed in an age-appropriate mid-thigh dress, brushed her hair and clipped it back in a feminine way, and slipped on some Keds to make her way across campus on the warm June day. Stopping by for a bottle of water at a campus store, the clerk addressed her as “Miss” without hesitation. Megan also noticed that she was getting ogled for her long, slender legs. By the time she arrived at Dr. Teague’s office, she was relaxed and confident, as projecting a feminine presence was natural. On their first meeting, the psychiatrist was shocked but not totally surprised. To Teague, it was evident that this was no boy. She had seldom encountered a more natural female who was unfortunately born into a male body.

The psychiatrist addressed her as Megan from the very beginning and encouraged her to increase her outings as much as possible to acclimate herself to her new gender role. Since the campus was so large, only those who knew her well would even notice goings and comings in both genders.

Teague also placed her with an endocrinologist who immediately adjusted “his” hormone levels to quicken his move to Megan. Fortunately, during his self-medication, Michael was conservative in his dosages. The student didn’t escape without a thorough verbal thrashing from the doctor, though, who told her that what she had done could have resulted in permanent liver damage.

Megan rapidly responded to the full dosages of the hormones. By early November, it was apparent from Megan’s breast growth and facial feminization that she would have to attend classes as Megan beginning with the next semester. Even though her voice pitch never deepened thanks to the anti-androgens that she began at fifteen, Megan began to see a speech therapist to work on her voice. Megan needed more resonance and pitch variation in order to have a completely believable, never questioned female voice. Within a few weeks, Megan had altered her voice sufficiently to be gendered as female all of the time. In fact, she had to alter her voice to her parents and when she had to appear in public as ‘male’.

Just before Thanksgiving, Teague contacted all of Michael’s professors and told them of her transition from Michael to Megan. She asked them to address her as a young woman by the name of Megan, but that she would still have to go by Michael since her name had not been legally changed.

At that point, Megan made a trip to a salon to have her long hair re-styled and cut in a feminine fashion. After Thanksgiving, when the psychiatrist and her patient were sure that the professors had received their notifications, Megan began to dress and attend class as a young woman. Only one professor, a middle-aged woman who taught English, had a reaction. After class, she came up to Megan before she stood to leave and said, “You look really, really good. Congratulations and good luck.” Megan smiled and stood up, and before she could react, the professor gave her a female hug.

Late December, 1992

A month later, as the semester came to a close, Megan’s trip home for Christmas became a concern for both patient and psychiatrist. Megan wanted to be herself with her parents but feared rejection based on the previous reactions of her father. Teague was concerned for the student, fearing a suicide attempt if her mother and father completely rejected her. This was to be the first time that they were to see Megan instead of Michael. Feigning the load of work at school, she had skipped going home at Thanksgiving.

It was 11:00 a.m. on the final day of the finals testing for the semester. Megan had packed the car for the trip home. In the suitcases, there was nothing but “girl clothes”. The way that she viewed it, if they would accept Megan today, then she wouldn’t need the boy clothes any longer. She was ready to give them to charity. Michael was quickly becoming a memory, and she just hoped that her parents would agree to work with heron it. Megan nervously awaited her therapist, but finally, the door opened to her office and Sandra Teague emerged and spoke to her patient, all the time smiling broadly at her.

“Hi, Megan! How are you doing?”

As the student walked quietly toward her, Sandra eyed her patient up and down. With her three inch heels, the normally five feet, nine inch Megan appeared as a six foot tall light brown-skinned brunette dressed in knee high boots, a sweater and skirt. She was not as dark as her full-blood Cherokee mother, but not as pale as her “lily white” father. The tight sweater emphasized her full C-cup breasts that had quickly grown during the past six months. Large round glasses covered a substantial part of her face. Her persona screams female and her parents are out of their minds if they don’t believe that this person is meant to be female, Sandra thought to herself. Megan had become increasingly happy as the semester progressed. But today was different as Megan’s nervousness showed. Sandra knew that her patient would be leaving to go home to a possible hostile welcome.

“I’m really nervous”, Megan admitted.

“Come on in and we’ll talk about it”, Sandra answered, smiling broadly at her patient.

As Megan sat down, she continued, “You look really nice today. You’re a beautiful young woman, Megan.”

“Thank you. I hope that my parents think that way, too.”

Sandra noticed that her voice was flawlessly female. She asked, “So, how have you fooled them on the phone so far? To me, you’ve sounded totally like a girl for the past few weeks. Surely they would have realized that when you called home.”

“Well, I’ve been able to drop my pitch back to my old voice. But the last couple of times, it’s been really hard. In fact, they asked me the last time if I had bronchitis. I lied and said that I did.”

“OK, now tell me again what you’re going to do if you’re kicked out of your parent’s house. We’ve talked about this before, but I want to make sure that you know exactly what to do in case the worst happens.”

Megan head visibly drooped as she looked down toward the floor. “I’ll come back here. That’s all I can do.”

“And then what? How are you going to afford food and gas for your car?”

“Well, all of my tuition and board are paid through next semester. And I have five thousand in my expense account.”

“What I want you to realize is that you’re going to have a get a job right away. They may legally disown you, too, Megan, so I want you to be prepared for that possibility in the next few weeks. If they do, it will make life a lot easier for you. That way, you’re entirely on your own, and scholarships and grants will be easy to obtain since you’ll have no income other than just your work.”

Megan sighed audibly. She was aware of the possibilities, but the psychologist was right. She needed to be prepared for dramatic changes in her life if what she feared came to pass.

“I know that I’m risking everything, but I have to do this. There’s no way that I can be Michael any longer.” Stroking the dark long hair that fell on each side of her head in gentle waves, she continued. “I love being Megan. It’s like being in clouds and fog for your whole life, then suddenly breaking through into sunlight.”

“I know, sweetheart. Life isn’t fair to trans-women like you, though. It’s getting there, but there’s still a long way to go as far as people’s acceptance. But you know what? I can’t believe that you’ve come this far this quickly. Everything about you screams ‘girl’, so you may have it far easier than so many others.”

The two continued their conversation for another forty minutes. At the end, Teague felt much more comfortable about Megan’s outlook. The girl may have it rough for a while, but there’s no way that she’s going to harm herself or others, she decided.

As the session drew to its conclusion, Sandra announced that they had reached the end of their time. Standing, Sandra once again smiled broadly at Megan, then approached Megan as the latter stood until they were only inches apart. Then her smile turned immediately to a serious expression, making Megan think that she was about to receive a lecture. She was.

“This isn’t going to be easy. But Megan, you are one strong young woman. It took a lot of strength to even admit to yourself that you really aren’t the gender that you were raised. You will make it. I totally believe in you. Look, my home phone number is on the back of this card,” handing a business card to Megan who promptly put it in the purse that was resting to her side. “I want you to give me a call if you need to talk about anything. I’m here for you.” Sandra reached out to hug her patient, and as they did, the psychologist once again whispered to Megan, “You call me. I’ll be thinking about you.” Megan nodded and whispered back “I’ll see you later.” Then she turned and walked out of Sandra’s office. It was time to see if her parents would accept Megan or not.

Three hours later – the Phillips home

Megan had to stop two times on the interstate to calm her nerves. She knew that her parent’s reaction to seeing her as a young woman would have huge implications on how her life would have to proceed.

Finally, she arrived at the gate outside their home and dutifully punched in the code to enter. While the gate was opening, she smoothed her skirt one last time and made sure that her sweater was straight. Then she drove to a parking spot on their circular drive just outside the front door.

As she anticipated, the front door began to open and her parents stepped outside and waved just as she shut off the engine. Taking the keys out of the ignition, she nervously shoved them in her purse and then slung the purse over her shoulder. Since the driver’s side door was on the side away from the front door, they couldn’t initially see her get out of the car. As Tim and Michaela watched, Megan made her way around the car. As soon as she was in full view, her parents’ mouths fell open.

Megan cheerily but nervously called, “Hi Mom, Hi Dad” in her female voice. By this time, Megan noticed that her Mom’s expression changed to one of surprise, while her Dad’s changed to anger.

Tim yelled, “Michael, what in the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you playing some kind of crossdressing game?”

With a confident stride, the young woman approached her parents until she was at arm’s length. Her nervousness abating, Megan spoke back authoritatively. “I’m Megan, not Michael. I never was Michael. How many psychologists told you that? As soon as I got to school last summer, I began working toward this day.”

“Well it’s obvious that they made some kind of mistake. You’re just pretending to be a woman.”

“Mistake? Dad, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. The fact that I’m standing here talking to you now should tell you that I’m not that shy little trying-to-be boy any longer. I’m a young woman making her way in the world just like everyone else. I love who I am for the first time in my entire life.”

His face beginning to turn red, Tim continued. “You’re a young man, plain and simple. I don’t care if you think that you’re a woman, a rabbit, or a squirrel. You cut yourself in your bathroom to get attention, and this little stunt that you’ve pulled today is getting my attention, too. Michael or Megan or whoever the hell you are, I’m cutting you off after the spring semester. You can find your own way. Just don’t expect me to help you get there.”

Tears filling her eyes, Megan looked at her mother, hoping for support. “Mom?”

“I’m sorry. The more that I’ve thought about it, the more I think that I made a mistake by helping you. There’s no way that a person can permanently change from a boy to a girl. You might be able to make yourself look like a young woman, but there’s no way to become one. I think that you’re making a big mistake in trying to live as Megan. I wish that I could say otherwise, but I’m standing with your Dad on this.”

“How about all those times that I told you that I was a girl, that I wasn’t a boy? What about those trips to the mall where you let me go as Megan? What about my fourteenth birthday where you took me to Ulta? We both cried after my makeover. Did that not count for something?”

“Michael, I was hoping that you would grow out of it. After your suicide attempt and your week in the hospital, I thought that you would have realized the truth. You were born a boy.”

After Michaela finished, Tim continued. “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t want to see you again until you end this charade.”

Megan ended the conversation by asserting, “I’m sorry, Mom and Dad, but this is who I am, and your arguments won’t change anything.”

Tim turned and stormed off into the house, followed closely by Michaela. Within a few seconds, the outer door slammed shut, leaving Megan standing alone by her car.

As Megan slowly strode back to the driver’s side of the car, anger and sadness burned within her. There’s nothing to be done by staying here, she thought, and looking around one last time, drove carefully out of the driveway. Knowing that she had to release her emotions at some point, Megan drove as quickly as she could to a nearby supermarket parking lot. Finding a remote space, she locked the doors and then let the flood of tears begin. It would be the better part of an hour before she would once again collect herself. She decided to call Dr. Teague as soon as she got back. But Megan had already made up her mind – she was going to live forever as Megan with or without her parents’ support.

University Campus – three hours later

After two more stops on the way back to campus, she finally arrived to a now almost-deserted campus as the sun was starting to set. Megan parked the Corolla in the lot adjacent to her dorm, but before alighting from the car, stared straight ahead, pondering her next move. Her eyes still showed signs of her earlier tears in spite of her attempt to fix her makeup to hide it.

All of a sudden, there was a loud thumping on the glass of the drivers’ side window. “You OK in there?” A fellow female student who looked the same age was tapping on the Corolla.

At five feet, six inches, Susie Templeton was a bit shorter than Megan with long, straight sandy blond hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her complexion was flawless, made even more evident by her very white, almost pasty skin. Since it was cool, but not cold, she was dressed in denim overalls paired with a long-sleeve tee shirt. The daughter of a car dealership chain executive and a registered nurse, Susie was not the kind to shy away from a situation where she felt needed.

Startled, Megan shouted, “Just a minute!” and opened the door, getting up briskly from her seat. She stepped out and stood, balancing herself against the car. Looking blankly at the girl, she answered, “Yeah, I’m OK. Just thinking.”

“You just looked really down. I was worried about you.” Pausing, the woman continued, “I’m Susie. Susie Templeton.”

“I’m Megan. Megan Phillips. And yeah, I am kinda down.”

“What’s going on, Megan”, Susie asked sympathetically as the two walked slowly to the front of the car, which was parked next to the sidewalk leading to the dorm’s entrance.

Megan pondered her answer for a couple of seconds before answering. “My parents. They kicked me out and I think they’re going to disown me.”

“WHAT? Why?”

The new girl sighed. She was going to have to share the truth with Susie, and probably, Susie would make some kind of rude remark and run off, leaving Megan to suffer alone. But the truth had to come out sometime.

Pausing, Megan sighed and began to tell her story. “Susie, what do I look like to you?”

Susie shrugged her shoulders, wondering where this story was going. “Um, a girl. Like every other girl around here.”

“Susie, I was born as a boy. All my life, though, I felt like a girl. Three years ago, I began to take hormone treatments without telling my parents, and when I got here, I finished them so that I could live as a girl. Mom and Dad didn’t like it and told me to leave and not come back.”

Susie first expressed surprise, and then not wanting to further humiliate Megan, said “Their child? They told their child that didn’t want to see her again? I can’t imagine.” With a subtle frown on her face and an audible sigh, Susie continued. “And by the way, I can’t even imagine you as a boy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one hundred percent girl.”

At those words, Megan choked but managed a small smile as she whispered to Susie, “Thank you!”

“Stay with me for a few days”, Susie exhorted. “Let’s talk. Maybe together we can work something out. I need a roommate for next semester. Mine left to go somewhere closer to home.”

“But you don’t even know me!”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re a girl that’s going through a trauma. You don’t need to be by yourself. And I’m here. Mom and Dad are going on a cruise for Christmas, so I’ll be here for the entire Christmas break by myself, too. We can keep each other company.” Even though Susie was not one to hug total strangers, this girl’s an exception, she told herself as she hugged Megan tightly.

“Thank you! Would you mind helping me unload, Susie? I’ll take part of it to my room, then maybe I can separate some things and come to yours. Can I borrow your phone to call my doctor later on?”

“Sure! Lady, we’ll make our own Merry Christmas.”

The two made for an interesting contrast as they walked toward the dorm - the tall, darker skinned Megan formally dressed and the shorter, blond haired, very pale Susie in her overalls and t-shirt. But in spite of their differences, the two would grow and remain close for years to come.

CHAPTER 2

December, 1992 – A few days earlier at Metro Hospital (a large hospital in the same metropolitan area where Megan grew up)

Brenda Britton suffered mightily through the one and only labor that she would ever have. After a long and intense struggle, the child had finally been born and was now on an examination table in the delivery room. Her husband was nearby, as he always was. Unfortunately, Jerry Britton was a controlling alcoholic that ruled everything in her life. She almost hated to bring a child into the environment that was the Britton household. Somehow, the child would survive, she felt.

Dr. Peter Nicosa, a Family Practice physician, was completing his exam of at what first appeared to be a male child. However, he had located a small opening just below what appeared to be the child’s penis. Could this child possibly be intersexed, he asked himself. He was tempted to call in a pediatrician for a second opinion. At that moment, though, Jerry peered over Dr. Nicosa’s shoulder. At six feet two and two hundred forty pounds, he was six inches taller and ninety pounds heavier than the doctor. Nicosa felt uncomfortable with such a large presence towering over him and attempting to control the situation.

“How’s it going, Doc?” Jerry inquired.

“I think that there may be reason for me to call another doctor for a second opinion, Mr. Britton“.

Showing Jerry the small hole that he found, Nicosa continued to explain that the hole could be the result of several things. Jerry was furious. The doctor is trying to say that there’s something wrong with my son, he thought, and I’m not gonna stand for it.

“Doctor, you don’t need a goddam second opinion. Just sew the damn hole shut and let’s go down the road. I’m not worried about what might or might not be wrong with my son. Just do it.”

“But if your son has something else wrong, I want to check it out.”

“Like I said, Doctor, just sew the hole. Quit fuckin’ around with me and get it done.”

Nicosa was tempted to call Security to restrain the man. However, if Jerry turned out to be right and nothing was really wrong, then making a scene would only make things worse in the long haul for both he and his patient.

“OK. I strongly advise against it, but I’ll do it, Mr. Britton. Stay here and you can watch me do it as long as you leave your gloves, mask, and gown on.”

“Got it, Doc.”

Nicosa, now relieved, decided to make small talk. “What are you going to name your son?”

“He’s gonna be named Kyle after my dad.”

“We’ll try to take good care of Kyle, then.”

Jerry didn’t realize that his child was actually a girl with a case of Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia. What appeared to be male genitals were actually overgrown female genitals that had grown outside instead of inside. While Nicosa was sewing up the hole that was actually her vagina, he noted that the urethral opening was not quite at the tip of the “penis”. Something was going on, and in his limited experience, he had not come across anything quite like it.

What doctor and father didn’t know, and couldn’t have known, was that Kyle was female in every way and would just need surgery to correct the external appearance of the genitalia. As the child matured, Jerry Britton would be the only one to assert that this child was male.

CHAPTER 3 – Three and a half years later

Late May, 1996

It had been just two weeks since an earthquake of life circumstances had shaken Susie Templeton. She and her roommate had suffered through it together.

On their way to their only child’s graduation, James and Joan Templeton were hit head-on when a semi-truck whose driver had fallen asleep crossed the center median of the highway. Both parents were killed instantly. Susie learned of it only a scant eighteen hours before she was to walk across the stage for her degree.

For the next week, Susie was in a fog of grief, and it was only with Megan’s help that she made it through graduation and burying her parents, all within the scant period of three days. Then there were the innumerable details to handle, including the sale of the house where she grew up and the moving and storage of their belongings. Even with her aunt’s help, Susie was almost overwhelmed with the number of decisions to be made.

All the while, Megan was begging her roommate to let her cancel their trip to Thailand, where Megan was to get genital reconstruction surgery to remove her genitals and to physically appear as, and legally be a woman. But Susie wouldn’t hear of it. In her mind, nothing should stop her roomie’s plans.

During the previous three years, Megan’s life had been a flurry of school and jobs. When she wasn’t working, she was sleeping, and when she wasn’t sleeping, she was studying, in class, or at work. A year earlier, through one of Susie’s contacts, Megan had procured a lucrative summer job in Colorado between her junior and senior year. It was so lucrative that Megan had managed to accumulate enough money to pay for the surgery and the plane fare for her and Susie to get there. With the help of grants and scholarships, Megan even had a small amount of savings to fall back on.

The psychiatrist-to-be still greatly missed her parents, and on more than one occasion, had picked up the phone to call them. Each time, though, she backed off, reasoning that if they truly regretted their actions, they could have taken the initiative to reach out to their daughter.

Ever since Megan’s disownment, the two young women had become the best of friends as well as roommates. The two had similar philosophies of life and enjoyed similar temperaments. Even with their vastly different college majors and career goals, they were able to appreciate their differences and had little feeling of competition.

This day, though, both young women were running purely on adrenaline. The traumas of the last two weeks and the anticipation of Megan’s surgery had worn out both girls. The twenty-four hour series of flights to Bangkok was still ahead of them.

Megan and Susie scrambled around their apartment, making sure that they hadn’t left anything that would be needed on the trip. Susie had elected to take her car to the airport, since she knew that she would certainly be the one to drive on their arrival back home.

Other than a few changes of clothes, Megan’s bags were full of post-surgical supplies and snack food. As a result, the two young women were miraculously able to keep their baggage down to one suitcase apiece plus their carry-ons.

Finally satisfied, they ran down the stairs to Susie’s car. Not knowing about the traffic situation, they didn’t want to be late for the plane.

Once settled in the car, Megan began talking excitedly to her roommate. “Thank you again for agreeing to go with me. And I wouldn’t have had my surgery this early if hadn’t been for that connection in getting me the job driving the jeep in Colorado.”

Susie smiled back. For now, she could forget the last two weeks and concentrate on the trip ahead of them. Brushing her long blond hair out of her face, she quickly pulled out into traffic from the university’s parking lot. “Anytime, girl. And as far as Thailand, you’re the one that paid my ticket, remember?”

“Yeah. But it sure made it an easy choice – spend the money and get a “nurse” that speaks English, or spend the money and maybe get someone who speaks only Thai with a little English on the side.”

“And remember that the assistance covers the flight back, too. Somebody’s gotta push the wheelchair.”

“Oh, yeah, that too.”

“OK, let’s see, the flight over, being with you before and after surgery, and pushing the wheelchair around the airport to get you home. I’m working too cheap.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Free counseling forever.”

“Deal.”

In a sense, Megan had lost her parents, as had Susie. As well as helping Susie with all of the business and personal arrangements, Megan counselled Susie in order to at least partially relieve the trauma. The fact that Susie was giving Megan a hard time about the trip was a sign to the latter that healing was indeed taking place.

By making the trip to Thailand, Megan was able to save thousands of dollars on her surgery. It was worth the gamble, and since the first year of graduate school would start in three months, having it done and over with was attractive. It was also fortunate that Megan and Susie would remain roommates the next year. While Megan would be starting on her M.A. in Psychology, Susie was to begin work on her M.B.A.

The flights were uneventful, but in spite of that, two very jet-lagged and tired young women staggered into the Bangkok airport almost twenty four hours later. Fortunately, a driver from the doctor’s office was waiting for them, and whisked them off to a hotel adjoining the clinic where the surgery was to be performed.

It was only sixty hours from their departure that a very groggy Megan was ready to be whisked into the operating room. Both girls were teary-eyed due to their physical and emotional exhaustion. But while Megan was excited about her surgery, the separation plus the risk of something happening to Megan during surgery weighed heavily on Susie’s heart. Having just lost her parents, she didn’t want anything to happen to Megan.

After the nurses took Megan back to the operating room, Susie choked back tears in the waiting room. She prayed in the best way that she could, not having been to church since she was a small child. The prayer brought her relief, and she spent the rest of the wait with a couple of books that she brought with her.

After six hours, an excited and smiling Thai nurse came to the waiting room. “You can come with me. She in recovery, doing ok” she told Susie in broken English. Susie smiled back and said “Thank you!” through tears that were now falling down her cheek.

It took Megan a while to come completely awake, and once she was awake enough to talk, she found Susie hovering over her.

“Welcome back, sis!” Susie exclaimed, starting a tradition that would span the rest of their lives. She had never called Megan a “sis”, but it seemed appropriate given everything that had happened during the last two weeks.

Megan sleepily stared back at her best friend. “Hey, I made it. Or at least I think I did.”

“You did! Welcome to womanhood!”

“Finally. Now maybe I can get my birth certificate to match.”

“That’s only paperwork. You’ve been a girl since I’ve known you.”

“Thank you! I love you, Susie.”

As Megan began to drift back to sleep, she replied, “I love you, too, Megan.”

It would be several more days before the pair could fly home, but “best friends forever” would apply to them for the rest of their lives.

CHAPTER 4 – Almost Four Years Later

February, 2001 through June, 2001 – Metro Hospital Mental Health Unit

Megan Phillips had started her psychiatric residency just six months earlier at Metro Hospital. The tall, slender 26-year-old woman with Cherokee (Native American) features, round glasses, and straight black hair that was in a ponytail most of the time, had garnered the attention of another psychiatric resident, Matt Belwick.

She had dated a few times in her college career, but with her schedule of work and classes, it was difficult to have any steady relationship. In fact, Megan hadn’t been on a date with anyone more than twice. For personal reasons, Megan believed that a woman should be a virgin until her wedding night. Once that men found out that she wasn’t available for sex, they moved on.

Megan’s past was a troubling problem to her, as well. She felt that she needed to divulge her past as a male before anyone became serious in their relationship with her. It was a problem that all trans-women faced at one time or another, especially since some men reacted violently to the news.

Belwick couldn’t have known it, but Megan was attracted to him. It was his intelligence and his sense of humor that caught her attention. His six-foot-three height didn’t hurt anything, either, as Megan constantly felt that she towered over everyone, especially when she wore heels.

One day, the two encountered each other as they were trying to find a seat in the doctors’ reserved area of the cafeteria at lunchtime. There was only one table available, and though Belwick was willing to let Megan have it, she wanted to share. So the two sat down together and slowly began a conversation. Both doctors, although able to talk to their patients without issues, were shy when it came to new acquaintances of the opposite gender.

Both of them struggled to make conversation until they began to talk about their mutual experiences as psych residents. There were the inevitable stories of suicide attempts, patients attempting to break out, and distraught parents seeing their child hospitalized for mental issues.

Before long, their lunch break was gone, and both had to get back to their respective work areas. As Matt prepared to leave, he asked Megan if she’d like to go out for dinner somewhere other than in a hospital. With a smile, she admitted that she would. Trading phone numbers, they hastily departed to different areas within the mental health unit.

A few days later, Megan received a pleasant surprise. Immediately after a conference concerning a patient, she was sitting in a small office when her cell phone rang. Retrieving the cell phone from her pocket, she looked at the caller ID and answered it with a smile.

“Hello, Megan Phillips.”

“Hi, this is Matt Belwick. I was wondering if you had off tomorrow night and if you’d be interested in dinner?”

“Hi, Matt. Yes and yes! I’d be delighted.”

“What time would be good for you?”

“How about 7:30? I should be home and changed by then.”

“Great. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up.”

Megan gave Matt her address, exchanged a few more pleasantries and then hung up. Smiling, she gave a fist pump with a quiet “Yes!” to herself. She couldn’t wait to get back to the apartment to tell Susie.

The next evening came, and Megan hurried home so that she could change. Putting on a dress that emphasized her slender build and her height, she also purposely chose low heeled shoes so that she wouldn’t come close to Matt’s height. With only six inches between them, she wanted to look up at him, not across.

Susie inspected Megan before the appointed time and gave a whistle and “You go, girl!!” when asked for her opinion.

At 7:35, Matt arrived at the apartment. When Megan opened the door, she saw a ruffled Matt still in the clothes that he was wearing at the hospital.

“Hi. Sorry about my appearance. Late case.”

“It’s OK”, Megan giggled. “It happens to all of us.”

The couple continued their exchanges and Matt finally took Megan to his SUV, a Nissan Pathfinder that was neither too old nor too new.

To say that the date was successful was an understatement. The two began talking as soon as they sat down at the restaurant and didn’t stop until the restaurant closed at 11:00. Matt took Megan back to her apartment. Then the two sat and talked another thirty minutes in the Pathfinder before Megan interrupted with a “Do you know what time it is?”

“Shoot, I need to be at the hospital at 6:00. Oh, well, what’s sleep? I sure enjoyed this, though. You’re an awesome woman, Megan.”

“Thank you. And it was so good to spend time with someone who understands. And Matt, you’re awesome, too.”

“We’ll do it again, soon, I hope.”

“I’d like that, too.”

The two exchanged a quick peck on the cheek, and Megan alit from the SUV waving to Matt before he drove off.

Megan went to the door of the apartment and the second the door opened, a squeal erupted from her roommate who had spent the previous ten minutes spying on them from the window. For the next thirty minutes, they would share the experience before Megan realized that she, too, had to arise early.

Susie was thrilled for her best friend. She was afraid that Megan would become “married to her job” and never enjoy herself with a man. Matt was also on the same page morally, and he wasn’t in any hurry to sleep with someone before marriage.

Megan and Matt became close quickly, and after just a few dates, Megan sensed that it was time for a speech that she had been rehearsing for some time but had never delivered. The two were sitting outside in the Pathfinder in a theater parking lot enjoying a private conversation following a movie. Megan caught herself thinking about the possibility of a passionate kiss. It was now or never, she decided, as she made sure that the door at her side was unlocked in case that there was a problem. Finally there was a break, and Megan decided that it was time to reveal the truth about herself.

“Matt, there’s something that I need to tell you.”

“What about?”

“About me.”

“Oh, about that assault conviction from when you were a teen-ager. It’s OK.”

Megan reacted with a frown, causing Matt to burst out laughing.

“Matt, please, I’m serious.”

Sensing the moment, Matt quickly recovered and began to listen intently and seriously.

“Matt, I’m not all that I seem to be. I mean, there are things in my history that..”

Matt interrupted her, “If you’re talking about being a male to female transsexual, I know all about that.”

“But how? I mean, it’s not general knowledge. It’s not something that I’ve gone around broadcasting.”

Megan looked at Matt with a worried expression.

“Kasey the hen told me. She was worried about how I would react when I found out.” Kasey was a head nurse in the unit and routinely kept an eye on the new residents to help them be successful. He stopped a minute to gather his thoughts, then continued. “Look, Megan, I don’t care if you were an elephant in your prior life. Whenever I look at you, I see a beautiful young woman who’s dedicated to her job and has more love than anyone else has ever shown me. I don’t care if you can’t have children – the world has more kids that need adopting than it can handle. And you know what - you have more love to give than 99.9% of the women in this world. I’m just glad to be your friend and I hope that I’m good enough so that we can keep a good thing going.”

She looked at him with a stunned expression, then began to comprehend what he said. He sat quietly with sympathy on his face. Megan began to tear up. Matt held out his arms and she fell into them, both giving and receiving the most genuine hug that each had ever had.

The two regarded each other from that moment as serious candidates for marriage. Neither was willing to express it, though. It was too soon to give significant weight to such thoughts, as both shared deep hurts from earlier in their lives that would have to heal first. But that didn’t stop them from continuing to spend as much time together as possible.

One Tuesday in June, the two encountered each other in an employee break room at the Mental Health Unit. Matt was totally exhausted, having gotten little sleep in the previous forty-eight hours. His slumping shoulders, swollen eyes, and blank expression left no doubt in Megan’s mind. She was worried about him and expressed it firmly.

“Matt, you need to go to the sleep room and get some shut-eye. You’re going to mess up and either say the wrong thing or prescribe the wrong medication or something.”

“I’ll be OK. I get off in just a few hours, then I’ll head home and get some sleep. I have off ‘til Friday.”

Squeezing his hand, she forcefully said, “Promise me you’ll just go to one of the resident sleep rooms. I don’t want you driving!”

They talked for a few more minutes, then both realized that the break room was empty except for the two of them. Exchanging a quick kiss, they traded “I love you” greetings. Then Matt added, “I hope that you’ll take this good care of me when you’re my wife.”

Although temporarily taken aback, Megan smilingly retorted, “The next time you use the word “wife”, buddy, you better have a ring to back it up!”

Matt then realized his mistake, blushing as he answered. “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry. I was just thinking…”

Smiling back at him, Megan giggled and squeezing his hand added, “I know. I’ve thought the same thing, too. A lot. Look, you better get back. We’ve been in here for at least ten minutes.”

Matt leaned across to kiss Megan with a huge smile on his face, and whispered “I love you. Thanks for making my day.”

Megan whispered back, “I love you, too.” Then she quickly added with a broad smile, “Now get back to work, slacker!”

Matt left the room with a huge grin. Unfortunately, the couple didn’t get a chance to talk again.

After having two restful days off, Matt returned to a rotation in the emergency intake section of the hospital. Unstable mental patients were first brought in to this area, no matter the reason. There were two sections to the unit, making occasional traversing of the lobby necessary. Only an hour into his shift, Matt was making such a crossing through the lobby area when he was approached by an unshaven middle-aged man who shakily held his hand inside a jacket that he was wearing. Spotting the man’s demeanor, the resident psychiatrist temporarily froze and before he knew it, his worst nightmare was beginning.

Removing his hand from beneath the jacket, the man brandished a .357 pistol which he pointed directly at Matt. With a voice as shaky as his hand, he began yelling, “My brother is in this here facility. I’ve come to get him out.”

At the sight of the gun, everyone in the lobby froze. One of the staff managed to run back inside the unit and called security. But most of the security force was occupied with another incident in the main hospital’s emergency room, so it was going to be several minutes before help could arrive. Matt was on the front line with an increasingly filled lobby full of people staring at he and the gunman.

An increasingly nervous Matt was thinking, but was coming up short of ideas on how to effectively defuse the obviously unstable gunman. But he decided to try.

Matt pointed to one of the conference rooms adjacent to the lobby. “Sir, why don’t we step inside here? I can get some more information from you and maybe we can talk.”

“I’m not here to talk! We’re beyond talkin’, sir. My brother’s in here to dry out for the fourth time. You people aren’t doin’ any good. Me and my family, we want to get him outta here and take him back to my sister’s house. She can help him better than anybody. Prob’ly won’t have to be back in one of these places.”

“What’s his name?” Now, Matt was visibly shaking. Unknown to him, one of the staff unwisely called Megan. Alarmed, Megan ran downstairs to join a throng that had gathered on one side of the lobby. Because of her height, she could clearly see what was going on, even though she was at the back of the crowd.

The lobby suddenly grew quiet as everyone struggled to hear what was being discussed.

The gunman talked and continued to wave the gun around, keeping it pointed at Matt. “Name’s Charlie Shaw. I’m Pete Shaw, his brother. Now, take me to him. I’m gettin’ tired of just standin’ here.”

A security guard finally appeared, coming in from a side door that hadn’t been blocked by the observing crowd. Not knowing what was happening, he hesitated to signal to the people gathered in the lobby to leave, at least for the moment.

Matt continued to try to reason with Pete, but nervousness and the crowd rattled Pete’s nerves.

Across the lobby, Megan was shaking with fear. I just hope that Matt keeps his wits about him and maybe he’ll get this guy to calm down, she told herself.

Matt and Pete continued to talk, but it was becoming apparent that Pete was getting agitated, a dangerous condition for someone with a gun. Matt had failed to calm his nerves, and even though the crowd was finally dispersing on orders of the security guard, Pete was more than determined to break out his brother.

Finally, Pete gave one last order. “Doctor whatever-your-name-is, I came in here to git my brother out. Now are you gonna let me do that, or do I have to do somethin’ we’ll both regret?”

Matt hesitated, but decided to make one more plea. “Sir, if you’d just give us a minute..”

Pete discharged his weapon, and the bullet struck Matt directly in the heart. Megan shrieked at the turn of events and began yelling and shrieking “Matt!” By this time, two other security guards had come to the lobby, but had hesitated to intervene on Matt’s behalf because they were afraid of such a thing happening.

Pete stood by, shaking as he stared at Matt. He was unaware of the guards, and they took advantage of the situation to finally move in. While one guard held a gun at Pete’s back, the other took his gun from him. Pete was not in a mood to resist. In desperation, he took someone’s life, and too late, realized that the whole situation that he created was stupid. Now, someone was dead, and he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison.

Megan waited until the guards had Pete secured, then rushed over to see about her boyfriend, but was beaten by several other medical staff. Finally, she was able to get close enough to him, but recognized that she was too late to help. Hands to her face, she began shrieking and crying. After standing there for several seconds, one of the other staff members took hold of her and moved her back in order to let other doctors attend to Matt. But it was too late for them all. Matt quickly bled out, his blood spreading in an ever-increasing pool on the lobby floor.

Shortly afterward, the police arrived, and escorted Pete to their car for a trip to the county jail. With hospital security camera footage as evidence, there would be virtually no chance for his acquittal from murder charges.

Finally, Megan was hustled back to a staff break room, where she composed herself enough to call Susie.

On hearing Megan’s tears, she hurriedly made the ten-minute drive from her office to the hospital. After a lot of explanation, she was finally let in to the employee area where Megan was still sitting, now calm, but was staring at the walls in an almost numb look on her face.

Susie greeted her with a hug and Megan’s tears began to flow once again. The two began talking in between Megan’s sobs. Susie and Megan had many long conversations after the death of Susie’s parents, and now was payback time.

Susie started, “I mean, it was on the news that a resident had been killed by a gunman. But they didn’t give any details.”

“Matt was crossing the lobby and this nasty looking guy stops him to ask about a patient. He starting talking to him, then the guy pulls a gun. Matt tried to get him calmed down, but there was a crowd in the lobby. Everybody was staring at him, and it made him nervous. Finally, he gets tired of talking to Matt, then s-hhh-oots him.” Megan began to quietly sob again.

It took another couple of minutes until Megan could talk again. Susie decided to ask Megan more questions.

“One of the people outside said that you ran up to him afterwards.”

“As soon as they cuffed the shooter, I ran over to Matt. Once I got a good look at him, I realized that there wasn’t any chance for him, so I started crying. Then a nurse came and brought me back here.”

Megan paused, then continued. “Susie, he was the first one that I was ever in love with. We hadn’t talked about it yet, but both of us knew that we were going to be married sometime down the road.”

“Oh, my God. I mean, I knew that you were crazy about each other, but I didn’t know that it was that serious.”

Megan nodded, then continued through her tears. “Matt and I were like two magnets the size of a pea bouncing around inside a boxcar. By some million-to-one chance, we happened to click. We were perfect for each other. What I couldn’t do, he could. What he couldn’t do, I could.” She paused for a moment, then looked with sad eyes toward Susie. Then blubbering, “He’s gone. He’s gone. What am I supposed to do now? He was perfect and I loved him.”

Susie had been best friends with Megan for over seven years, but early in their relationship, she realized that no matter how much of a woman that Megan appeared to be, she didn’t have the experience of teen-age crushes and breakups. Susie remembered the first kiss that Megan received from a date, so at age 20 was prancing around their campus apartment like a 13-year-old. Even though Megan had breakups in the past, this was her best friend’s first serious relationship.

Susie hugged Megan for several minutes until the latter calmed down. “Look at me”, she admonished Megan. The psychiatrist looked back at her with sad eyes. She had witnessed this from her friend before and knew that it was time to pay attention.

“Sometimes bad things happen to us, just like a forest fire. The fire devastates everything. But what happens? The forest recovers. My parents took me to the Rockies when I was twelve and Dad taught me about it. The aspens come back first and shade the pine trees. Then the pine trees grow up and protect the aspens. All the while, the forest floor is rejuvenating itself.” Pausing for a moment, Susie continued. “Like you said, it seemed like Matt might have been ‘the one’”.

Taking Megan’s face in her hands, Susie looked at her straight in the eye. “But Megan Anne Phillips, there will be someone for you at the right time. But you’re going to learn from this and be stronger. Remember, I love you, sister.” Susie had done all that she could do. After hugging Megan one more time, she told her, “Sit here for just a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

She went out to the hallway and located a nurse. She wanted to talk to a supervisor, because it was evident to her that Megan probably wouldn’t be able to work for several days and might need counseling to get over the grief of her loss. Fortunately, Megan’s direct supervisor suddenly appeared, and identifying herself, began to tell the supervisor of her concerns. The two were in agreement, and in a few minutes, both were on their way to the break room.

Megan was relieved of duty for the next week, and ordered to attend grief counseling. Like many first loves, though, Megan would get over the grief through time, but would always carry Matt in her heart