“Wake up it’s a beautiful morning…” The sound of the old nineties song by the Boo Radleys blares from my phone, raising me from my slumber and reminding me that I have a big day ahead of me. After I rise from my bed, I pad through to the bathroom, reminded every step of the way that I’ve had plenty of big days over the last few weeks as well.

The first, most obvious thing I notice as I sit in my shallow bath (a mandated part of my recovery program) is the fact that the area between my legs is a very different 'configuration' to how it was during the first 22 years of my life, though believe me when I say I didn’t need to see it to know that it’s now there. The fact that it still takes me longer to both get out of bed and walk to the shower than it did before the operation is proof of that. And although it’s only been two months and I’ve been told both by friends and medical professionals not to expect immediate results, it still feels unusual and in a way ‘wrong’ at times. I don’t know how or why exactly, especially as it is literally a dream come true, but having a flesh and blood vagina almost makes me feel like more of a fraud than I did before the operation, almost like I’ve laid claim to something that isn’t rightfully mine. Nikki’s assured me that in time, it’ll feel normal and like I never didn’t have a vagina, but free time isn’t something I’ve got bucket loads of right now.

The reason I’m up so early today is because today, Monday the 3rd of September, is the first day of work for me in my new job- my new career. It’s just a coincidence that today would also be the first day of the school year if I’d stayed at university to do a Master’s Degree like Sarah, but it still hammers home the whole ‘change’ thing just a little bit more. Ophelia, Lauren and Katie have all also started their new jobs, the former two for modern London-based fashion design companies and the latter as an in-house photographer for Heavenly Talent (who I also did temp work for as a receptionist while I recovered over the summer). As for me, I’ll be working for a small (but popular) fashion zine. It’s a decent-paying job and something I’m obviously interested in and qualified for, and with London Fashion Week just around the corner (not to mention my connections with Heavenly Talent) I’m going to be kept pretty busy over the coming few months.

…Which makes me all the more glad that I took the opportunity over the summer to relax and have fun, not that my recovery gave me any other choice. Despite being limited mobility-wise, I still found the time to relax with my friends both in London and on the beach in Brighton, even if I did keep my thighs covered with a skirt or a towel most of the time. What was especially nice was Alexa and Jenny coming over during the summer for their honeymoon and spending time with me while I recovered, even if Alexa spent a lot of the time bombarding me with questions about her upcoming ‘snip’ (which I think is scheduled for some time late next year). My only regret is that I didn’t get the chance to properly introduce them to my dad, thanks to yet another change- namely, him spending more and more time in London with Sarah’s mum.

What, exactly, they talk about is a mystery. Sarah’s mum is a high-paid very upper-middle class medical professional and dad is a computer repair man who spends most of his free time watching quiz shows and reading books about things like astronomy or ancient Egypt. Nonetheless, the two of them instantly hit it off and have been spending more and more time together, all the while hammering home the one thing in my life that hasn’t changed over the summer- my relationship status.

Yes, despite now being an anatomically correct ‘princess’, I am still without my Prince Charming or any prince of any kind. Admittedly, I haven’t been looking over the summer, and I’m still months away from being recovered enough to use my [new equipment], but I’m still more than a little self-conscious that I’m the only one of my friends who’s currently single. Still, as my friends and family constantly remind me, I’m only 22, I’ve got decades ahead of me in which to find my soul mate. I just can’t help but think of that as decades in which I’m potentially alone…

“Hey!” My flat mate yells, banging on the bathroom door and snapping me out of my reverie. “You done in there yet? Left me any hot water?”

“Yes, alright, subtle hint taken!” I reply as I switch off the water and wrap my body and my hair in two big, fluffy towels, thinking about the one other change that took place during the summer, the biggest change of them all (that didn’t involve major surgery, anyway). You might have noticed that my flat mate doesn’t exactly sound like Ophelia, and that’s because she isn’t Ophelia. The tenancy on our student flat ran out over the summer, and as neither of us were students anymore, we temporarily moved back to dad’s house in Brighton while we planned our next move (made easier by dad not being in the house a lot of the time for reasons already described). However, of course, it wasn’t just myself and Ophelia planning the next move, it was myself, Ophelia and Telemachus as well.

Over the summer- their first summer holiday as a couple- Ophelia and Telemachus were practically joined at the hip and no doubt literally joined at the pelvis when left alone with each other. Even though Telemachus will still be a student this coming school year and entitled to live in student accommodation, there was no way he would live apart from Ophelia, meaning we had to look for any privately rented two bedroom flats in London. Out of the countless dozens of flats we looked at, precisely zero fell within our price range even when mine and Ophelia’s potential wages were added together. Well, okay, a few did, but none of the three of us fancied sharing our flat with enough wildlife to fill a David Attenborough show.

…And despite my promises throughout the previous year, as we searched for flats, the prospect of being a third wheel with a married couple grew less and less appealing. Eventually, after much soul searching (and more than a few tears on mine and Ophelia’s part), we settled on a new living arrangement. Ophelia and Telemachus would move into their own small ‘love pad’, while I’d share a small flat with two single bedrooms with my new flat mate…

“Finally!” Katie moans as she barges past me into the bathroom, clearly in desperate need of the toilet.

“Alright, alright, keep your knickers on,” I retort. “Or maybe don’t if you need a piss that badly.”

“Hilarious,” Katie snorts from the other side of the bathroom door. “What time d’you need to be at work?”

“Start at 9:30,” I reply. “Just enough time for a quick ‘date’ before I go…”

“…And that’s all I need to know about THAT,” Katie says as I head through to my bedroom for my least favourite task of the day. Well, least favourite task of the morning, considering I’m going to have to do it again twice more today.

I take a deep breath as I lay flat on my bed and slather disinfectant gel over my hands, before opening the pouch next to me and removing one of the slim rods contained within.

"Whatever you want, whatever you need..." I sing to myself in a quiet voice as I take several breaths to stop my hands from shaking. "Anything you want done, baby, I'll do it naturally..." I smear the end of the stent in lubricant jelly, before directing it toward my new 'opening'. "’Cause I'm every woman, it's all IN ME..." I bite my lip to keep myself from yelling any louder as the stent slides into my vagina, holding it open as I lay back down and try not to cry. I know I shouldn't panic so much about the process- after all, once 'Prince Charming' comes along, he'll- well, he'll be 'coming along' it a lot. And a flesh and blood penis will be a lot warmer and, well, more organic than a plastic stent with cold KY jelly on it. And my vagina will be a lot less sore as it heals. And I'll have to dilate less and less often as time goes on. And I need to keep repeating all of this to myself or I'll end up having a panic attack three times a day at regular intervals.

Once my ‘obligation’ is done, I pick out my outfit for the day, something that obviously needs a lot of thought putting into it. It’s my first day, after all, and you only get one chance to make a first impression. After pulling on a comfortable cotton bra and briefs set, I head over to my wardrobe and carefully scan through my (many) racks of clothes. The magazine I work for is technically based in an office, but as it’s fashion-related it’s safe to say the dress code won’t be business formal, but I’m still going to need to keep up appearances so jeans and a t-shirt are out too (not that I own that many jeans or any other kind of trousers). Most importantly, the first impression I need to make is ‘unquestionably female’. Whenever I stare at myself naked, despite being the proud owner of perky C cup breasts, a narrow (okay, 30 inches) waist, curvy hips and a flesh and blood vagina, the fact is still that I’m 5’ 10”, I have a 38 inch chest, size 9 feet and a very male skeleton (including, worst of all, my face). I know that many of my friends share this problem, but a lot of them work together in organisations that are guaranteed safe spaces for transgendered people, such as Heavenly talent or Soixante-Trois Airlines. Me, I’m going to be going it alone in unknown surroundings filled with strangers, and while I don’t doubt they’ll all be polite and professional, it’d be nice if at least some of them could become friends. And for the men in the office, maybe even more than friends…

In the end, I settle for a soft patterned blouse and a knee-length black skirt with playful wavy pleats, along with a pair of cute black flats, a look that gets the seal of approval from my flat mate as she emerges from her bedroom dressed for her work day.

“Looking good Miss Hanley!” Katie teases, a wide grin spreading across her immaculately made-up face.

“Why thank you, Miss Henderson!” I giggle, giving my skirt a playful swish. “Not looking too bad yourself, hehe! Isn’t that a bit, you know, ‘casual’ for Joshua Benedict?”

“Nah,” Katie replies as she strikes a pose to show off her tight short-sleeved top and slender knee-length skirt. “It’s his office but it’s my studio. But, you know, I need to make an impression, don’t I?”

“Even among people you’ve known for what, five years?” I reply.

“Meh, I just- I just want them to take me seriously, you know?” Katie asks. “They still see me as a little kid, you know? Want to be taken seriously as, like, a woman, not just a girl…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I chuckle. “Only replace ‘girl’ with a different word.”

“Oh- come on…” Katie sighs. “You didn’t spend weeks in hospital to still be anxious about THAT, did you?”

“Trust me, I’m never NOT going to be anxious,” I reply. “Ugh- I- I dunno. Maybe just ‘cause I’m going in there alone, like, everyone there will be a stranger and it’s not like I can go in there naked to, you know, ‘confirm’ it, is it?”

“I’d have thought the skirt was a good clue there, though,” Katie retorts. “Honestly, you’re worrying about nothing, you’ll be fine. I used to read the magazine you’re working for, it’s proper liberal and everything.”

“…USED to read it?” I ask. “I’m hoping that’s gonna change, right?”

“Yeah,” Katie replies. “When you bring home free samples! Want to walk to the tube station together?”

“Sure,” I reply, rolling my eyes at Katie’s ‘joke’ as I lock the front door behind us.

“What d’you suppose Ophelia wore on her first day?” Katie muses.

“I’m not sure,” I reply. “Though knowing her it’ll have been, well, you know her.”

“Have done for three years,” Katie replies with a giggle. “Still got no idea what category she’d even have worn!”

“Yeah, doubt I’ll meet anyone like her at the office!” I say, chuckling to disguise the fact that I could really, really do with meeting someone like my BFF at work today- or better yet, my BFF herself…

Katie and I part ways at the Underground station, and after two nerve-wracking train rides, I find myself outside the modest, almost nondescript office block containing the offices of X-1 magazine. I take several deep breaths to calm myself before walking inside and stepping up to the small (but still very elegant) reception desk.

“Hi!” I say with a nervous wave. “I’m, umm, Jacinta Hanley, the new staff photographer?”

“Miss… Hanley?” The receptionist asks, making me instantly panic that I’m at the wrong office. Seconds that feel like aeons pass as my mind is filled with images of me being laughed out of this very wrong office, scrambling to get to the right office in time only to be told I’m fired for being late and laughed out of there as well… “Oh yes, got you now! Terri will be down in a bit, please take a seat!” I try not to audibly breathe a sigh of relief as I thank the girl and sit down in one of the waiting area’s plush chair, musing on how much the simple act of sitting down has changed since my operation. I’m only waiting for a handful of seconds before I’m greeted by the magazine’s editor- my new boss- a petite ginger-haired girl in her late twenties. As I stand up to greet the young woman, I’m suddenly very glad I wore flats this morning…

“Hi!” Terri says with an excited giggle as she gives me a polite handshake. “It’s nice to meet you again Jacinta, you’re looking great! Are you all healed after your operation?”

“Getting there!” I chuckle. “Still a bit, you know, sore in places but I’m getting around a lot easier.”

“That’s good to hear,” Terri says as she leads me into the main office area. As the magazine is small, there are only a handful of employees, but the office area still somehow manages to feel cramped and noisy. The noise quickly stops, though, when we enter the room and Terri claps her hands, attracting every pair of eyes in the room straight towards us- or rather, straight towards me.

“If I could your attention please?” Terri shouts. “I’m pleased to announce today that we have a new member of Team X-1, everyone, I’d like to introduce Jacinta Hanley, who’s recently graduated from LCF and will be working as a new staff photographer! Jacinta, would you like to say a few words?” I don’t know if it’s physically possible for someone’s eyes to go as wide as dinner plates, but if it is, then mine just did.

“Umm, hi!” I say, my voice intermittently squeaking with nerves. “I’m Jacinta, Terri just basically covered everything about me, heh, it’s- it’s nice to meet you all!” A smattering of semi-enthusiastic ‘hi’s greets my self-introduction.

“I’m sure you’ll all be friends before too long,” Terri says. “We’ll go round the room introducing ourselves, one- umm, where’s Tom?”

“On the loo, I think,” one of the employees, a girl roughly the same age as me, replies.

“Okay, we’ll wait for him then,” Terri says, before leading me to a plain, empty desk in the corner of the room. “We figured you’d want to use your own laptop and camera for editing and preparing photos but if there’s any other equipment or software you need let us know.”

“Thanks,” I reply as I take my laptop out of my bag and begin setting it up. “Do- umm, do you have any, you know, assignments for me yet?”

“We will by Wednesday,” Terri replies. “Ah, and here’s the man who’ll sort them out now! Jacinta, I’d like to introduce you to the guy who’ll be researching stories for you to go and photograph. Tom, this is Jacinta Hanley, Jacinta, this is Tom Randall.” Yet again, my eyes go wide as I stand up to greet the man I’ve known since childhood- and who I just seem to keep running into…

“H- hi,” Tom says with a nervous chuckle, though probably not as nervous as mine…

“Hi!” I say in a probably very overenthusiastic voice. “Long time no see, heh!”

“Oh, do- do you two know each other, then?” Terri asks.

“Yeah, we were kinda at LCF together,” Tom says. “Jacinta was below me- umm, a year below me.”

“We were also at secondary school together,” I chime in. “Though, of course, I was kinda, umm, different back then…” I grimace as I feel an awkward silence fall over the three of us.

“Well,” Terri says with obvious forced enthusiasm, “I guess that’s one less person you’ll have to get to know, heh!”

“Yep,” I say, biting my lip due to the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

“Well, I’ve, umm, got some forms for you to sign,” Terri says. “The usual stuff, health and safety, etc.… I’ll let you two get, umm, reacquainted, heh!”

“Thanks,” I say, before trying not to fidget as Tom pulls up a chair next to me. “…So then, how long have you been working here?”

“Just over a year,” Tom replies. “After I graduated. I, um, didn’t see you come in for an interview…”

“The interview was at the- at the college,” I mumble in reply. “So, umm... You- you still with Caitlin?"

"Yeah," Tom replies in a low, quiet voice. "Moved in together earlier in the year."

"Oh, umm, okay," I mumble. "Anyway..."

“Anyway, yeah,” Tom says. “We keep running into each other, don’t we?”

“Probably gonna happen more often now that we’re working together,” I reply.

“Yeah, probably,” Tom chuckles. “Anyway, umm, I’ve got emails to send…”

“Okay,” I say, trying not to feel awkward as Terri returns with various forms for me to read through and sign. The amount of times I seem to run into Tom like this is bordering on ridiculous. Well, okay, it's four times in three years, but that's still a lot when you live in a city with a population of eight million. Maybe the universe is telling me that despite his relationship with Caitlin, he is my 'Prince Charming'- or, more rather, the universe is dangling him in front of my face and saying 'let's look at what you would've won' like those old game shows my dad loves...

The rest of the morning is spent being shown around the office and being introduced to my new colleagues. Thankfully, the magazine’s staff seem on the whole to be a friendly group of people. After Terri and Tom, there’s the deputy editor, a young woman named Lizzie who seems very friendly, two staff writers named Josh and Alex who may or may not be a couple (even Terri isn’t 100% sure) and a webmaster by the name of Ciara who seems very serious on the surface, but I’m assured has a very playful sense of humour when not on the clock. Naturally, all of them ask me about my friendship with Jamie-Lee Burke, but, much to my surprise, none of them immediately ‘clock’ me as transgendered- some even react with shock when I tell them. Of course, there’s nothing to say that I have to tell them at all- literally nothing, anymore- but it’s best to get any awkwardness out of the way sooner rather than later. Fortunately, all of the staff seem to be perfectly fine with it, meaning there’s not likely to be any awkwardness at all. At least, none concerning my ‘status’, anyway…

After lunch, which for me includes an awkward (but thankfully not ‘awkward’ awkward, just ‘physically’ awkward) dilating session, the seven of us gather together as Terri briefs us on the next month’s issue and our various roles. As it’ll be mainly focussed on young fashion bloggers, I’ll spend most of my time travelling to the various teen/tweens’ houses and photographing them, but only once Tom has got their permission, of course. The meeting drags on for a couple of hours, though a large part of this is due to me being further ‘inducted’ into the culture of the magazine. This ‘induction’ continues once the clock hits 5pm and I pack away my things ready to head home, only to be told that I’m not heading home just yet.

“It’s a little office tradition,” Terri explains as she virtually frog marches me to the office’s exit. “On someone’s first day, we always take them out for a drink to celebrate!”

“’Monday drinking’ is a tradition?” I ask.

“There are only seven of us working here, it doesn’t happen very often,” Josh replies in what sounds like a broad Devon accent.

“Well- okay, I guess!” I chuckle, earning cheers from my new colleagues- my new friends- as we head out of the office and to a nearby pub. However, we only make it ten steps before…

“So how did you meet the Angels, then?” Lizzie asks, making me smile- the first questions I was going to be asked was either this or something else, and to be honest, I’d much rather it was this question than the ‘other one’.

“I met them through Nikki Thomas,” I reply. “The Angels’ PA?”

“Don’t recognise the name,” Lizzie replies, making me giggle.

“Ooh, I am SO telling her that!” I giggle. “I went to uni with Nikki’s then-girlfriend/now-wife, and obviously we have, umm, something in common…” I brace myself for an awkward silence, but fortunately…

“Oh, wait, I think I remember that wedding,” Terri pipes up. “Wasn’t Krystie Fullerton the, like, vicar for that one?”

“She was indeed, well remembered!” I giggle. “I was a bridesma-“

“Ah, and Jamie-Lee Burke and Steph Abbott were bridesmaids too, weren’t they?” Lizzie interrupts. Jesus Christ, I think to myself, never mind ‘always the bridesmaid and never the bride’, now I’m not even a frigging bridesmaid…

“Umm, yep!” I say, chuckling to try to avoid offending my new colleagues. “I, umm, I was too.”

“Oh, cool!” Lizzie giggles. “So what’s Charlotte Hutchinson’s house really like? Is it as big as it seems on TV?” 1, 2… Maybe 3 seconds of fame? I think to myself.

“Ehh… Not really,” I reply, ignoring Lizzie’s (hopefully) unintended slight. “The party room’s maybe five or six times as big as my living room back home, not counting the bar area.”

“So cool,” Terri chuckles. “I would give ANYTHING to go to one of the Angels’ parties.”

“Well, now you have someone to ask to take you as a ‘plus one’,” Alex teases, making me giggle and roll my eyes.

“…I suppose I could ask,” I shrug, giggling again as I get cheers from all of my new friends.

Naturally, everyone else also asks this question, even Ciara and the three boys, and even after we arrive at the pub questions keep coming in about the celebrities. My new friends are especially impressed by the fact that I was a witness at Jamie-Lee Burke’s wedding (much more than me being a Bridesmaid at Nikki & Sarah’s wedding) and are very impressed by my ‘fellowship’ tattoo. However, any time the conversation looks to be heading toward the meaning behind the tattoo, it gets steered in another direction entirely, usually by Terri or Lizzie, as though everyone’s afraid of stepping on a sensitive area (so to speak). Though as is often the case, it’s this pussyfooting around (pardon the pun) that’s making me feel the most awkward. That being said, though, I can’t help but wonder whether the others feel that me and Tom barely speaking is just as awkward, considering that everyone now knows how long we’ve known each other. God knows Tom probably does. Hell, even I do, at least a little…

The seven of us eat dinner at the pub and eventually leave just after 7:30pm. On the way home, I can’t help but feel a little ambivalent about my new job. The whole group is certainly friendly, the work will be interesting and right up my alley and the pay is alright. However, I can’t get over the ‘Tom factor’. I mean yes, he is in a relationship, but he is attractive and has always seemed interested in me (and not just in a 'curiosity' sense). He's never seemed like 'Prince Charming' material though- so why do I keep thinking about him?

“’Bout time,” Katie says, not taking her eyes off her phone as I walk through the front door. “I’ll call off the search parties, then?”

“Oh shut up,” I retort. “I sent you a text, didn’t I? Only got a few minutes’ warning myself, it’s an ‘office tradition’ apparently.”

“Meh, fair enough,” Katie shrugged. “Meet anybody nice today?” Oh- jeez, I’m not THAT boy hungry, I think to myself.

“…As in?” I ask defensively.

“As in, ‘did you make any new friends at work today?’” Katie replies. “I’m not THAT interested in your sex life, god’s sake!”

“Well- then yes, I did make some new friends,” I reply.

“Knew you would,” Katie says with a smile.

“One of whom was Tom Randall,” I say bluntly, and I can almost hear a record needle scratching inside Katie’s brain.

“…Tom Randall?” Katie asks, frowning as I nod. “As in ‘known since primary school and harboured a huge crush throughout uni’ Tom Randall?”

“It was secondary school and I didn’t harbour a huge crush,” I say defensively. “Okay, maybe… he’s involved, anyway, and it’s been years since I last saw him, so there’s no chance of any, you know, ‘spark’, right?”

"I thought the last time was Snikki's wedding?" Katie asks.

"Which is over a year ago," I retort. "Hence more than one year, hence 'years'."

“If you say so,” Katie shrugs, an annoyingly smug smirk on her face. “While you’re up could you make us a cup of tea?” I roll my eyes as Katie quietly (and unsuccessfully) tries to suppress her giggles at what has become a running gag between us.

“Sure, as long as you don’t mind me dilating first and then using my stent to stir it,” I retort, making Katie laugh out loud.

“Eww,” my freckled friend chuckles as I head upstairs for my final ‘obligation’ of the day. The rest of the evening passes by unremarkably, catching up on the TV saved on our set-top box and updating and installing all of the software onto my laptop that I'll need for work. And, of course, dodging any Tom-related questions my flat mate fires at me.

I again wake up at 6:45am the following morning and follow what has quickly become my new morning routine of bathing, dilating and dressing for the office before leaving the flat, only stopping to knock on Katie’s bedroom door before I go (she isn’t at work until later in the day). A short while later, I’m once again stepping into the reception area of the building that includes the X-1 office, only today I’m stepping in with confidence instead of a mixture of nervousness and terror. That confidence remains as I greet my new friends & colleague en route to my desk, it remains as I set up my laptop ready for the day ahead, and it comes crashing to a halt when Tom pulls up a seat next to me.

“Hey Jacinta,” Tom says, making me fidget in my chair, and not just because of my still-young vagina. “Did you- did you have a good evening?”

“Yeah, it was okay,” I shrug. “Got a bit of grief from my flat mate for being home late but that’s about it.”

“Cool,” Tom says. “I’ve, umm, I’ve lined up a few jobs for you this week, we’re going to make a major feature of the whole ‘teen fashion blogger’ thing so we’ve got plenty of people for you to visit the next couple of weeks. ‘Cause you don’t have a car yet we’re going to keep you mostly based in the London area for now, obviously we’ll pay any travel expenses you have.”

“Okay,” I say as I look over the itinerary Tom’s drawn up.

“Also,” Tom continues, “why did we barely exchange ten words when we were at the pub yesterday>” Okay, let’s be blunt about this then, I think to myself.

“Well, umm,” I mumble as I try to gather my thoughts. “I was, you know, getting to know everyone, and I already know you, right?”

“Yeah,” Tom says. “Is that also why your body language is screaming ‘uncomfortable’?” Naturally, this causes me to fidget again despite myself.

“…I’m only a few months post-op,” I reply. “It takes me a while to get, you know, ‘settled’.” I can’t help but smirk as mention of the operation causes Tom, like most men, to fidget as well.

“Okay…” Tom says. “But- but that’s not all, is it?”

“…Okay, maybe not,” I sigh. “It’s just- gah, I dunno… We do seem to keep running into each other though, don’t we? I mean at uni, then Nikki and Sarah’s wedding…”

“…Which was over a year ago,” Tom reminds me. “And we haven’t seen each other since. And it’s not like we were ever going out, were we?”

“Well- I guess not,” I say, giggling nervously as I try vainly to hide my embarrassment. “I did- I did always, you know, have a bit of a crush…”

“Can’t really say I’m shocked,” Tom says, chuckling as my cheeks turn bright red.

“Are- are you still-“ I mumble.

“Yeah, me and Caitlin are still going strong,” Tom says softly. “How- how about you? You seeing anyone right now?”

“Nah, not right now,” I reply. “Was seeing someone earlier in the year, we split up just before summer.”

“Oh- oh, I’m, umm, sorry to hear that…” Tom says.

“Nah, I dumped him,” I shrug. “Plenty more fish, right?”

“Definitely,” Tom says as I feel myself begin to relax. “Meantime, though, I really hope we can be friends, I mean, I hardly knew ‘Jason’ when we were at school, and-“

“I’d like that,” I say, smiling despite a feeling of disappointment growing within me.

I don’t know what exactly it is about Tom that gives me a ‘buzz’ inside. Sure, he’s an attractive young man, and admittedly most (okay, pretty much all) attractive young men give me a ‘buzz’ to some degree, but Tom… I dunno. Maybe it’s because I’ve known him since childhood, maybe it’s because we’re going to be working in close proximity, maybe it’s because I know his character, know that he’s a decent guy and I know he wouldn’t have a problem being with a transgendered girl- just maybe not with THIS transgendered girl. Only one thing is certain right now- Tom may be A Prince Charming, but he certainly isn’t MY Prince Charming no matter how hard I wish…

The rest of the day is spent preparing to meet the various teenagers I’ll be meeting over the coming few weeks, familiarising myself with their blogs and their styles and formulating ideas with Terri and Lizzie on what photos I want to take and how they’ll be laid out on the page. And, of course, answering more questions about the Angels. With the initial awkwardness with Tom (mostly) behind me, the day flies by and by the time the clock reads 5pm I feel like I could do another eight hours of work. However, as we get ready to go home, another kind of ‘awkwardness’ again rears its ugly head.

“No pub visit today, then?” I ask Josh and Alex in a teasing voice as the two of them get ready to head home.

“Nah, not on a work night,” Alex replies. “Well, not on a Tuesday work night, you know?”

“Yeah, we kinda need an early night,” Josh says. “First week of a new issue’s always the busiest, if we get a head start now there’s less pressure as the deadline gets near.”

“Yeah, Tom said the same thing,” I chuckle. “Makes sense, I guess, though I’ll be out and about tomorrow so don’t quite need an early night, heh.”

“Got anything planned, then?” Alex asks.

“Not really,” I shrug. “Just heading home and dil-“ I pause as I suddenly realise that the end of that sentence could’ve been many things, but my friends seem to know that it would’ve ended with ‘ate’, and I know they know that by the sudden extra width in their eyes. “…Umm…”

“It- it’s okay,” Alex says. “I- umm…”

“Do- umm, do you- do you mind-“ Josh stammers, his cheeks reddening as I try not to sigh. It’s not like this isn’t something I’ve had to handle in every new circumstance I’ve found myself, after all- well, all except for my closest friends and family, anyway.

“Look, guys,” I say, “I- I honestly don’t mind, you know, questions as long they’re, you know, respectful? Am I- am I really the only transgendered person you’ve ever met?”

“Well, you know, kinda…” Alex mumbles. “It’s just- I- I kinda can’t wrap my head around it, you know? Like, have you always known that you were- umm…”

“For as long as I can remember,” I reply, smiling as Josh opens his mouth to ask another question, only to be interrupted by our petite editor.

“Guys?” Terri asks. “We talked about this last week?” I bite my lip as guilty expressions spread across my two friends’ faces- obviously Terri had words with everyone else in the office ordering them not to ask me any personal questions. She obviously wants the office to be a safe space for me, and while I definitely appreciate this, there’s a big difference between ‘safe space’ and ‘wrapped in cotton wool’.

“I don’t mind, honestly,” I say, trying to spare my friends’ blushes. “I mean, like, it’s just part of who I am, you know? And they weren’t being insensitive…”

“Well- okay, if you say so,” Terri says, clearly not convinced by my sincerity. “If there ever is a problem-“

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it, honestly,” I say. “Seriously, I- I’d rather be asked the questions, you know, ‘included’ than be, like, an outcast.” I beam a sympathetic smile at Josh and Alex to let them know that not only am I not offended by their questions, I’m actually appreciative of them. Yes, the questions can be construed as personal, and yes, the ideal would be to be viewed as not a transwoman, but just a woman, full stop, but I don’t want to come across as cold and aloof. I want to make friends, and like it or not, people are going to be interested in this facet of my character. Just as long as it means they’re also interested in the rest of me…

“Well- okay, if you’re sure…” Terri shrugs.

“I am,” I say with a confident smile. “See you all tomorrow!” I smile as my new friends wave goodbye to me and I leave the office feeling that it’s become just a little bit more like a second home- just like any good workplace should.

I arrive back home just after 5:30pm and immediately head through to the kitchen to start getting dinner ready, but as I enter the room I’m greeted by a sight that suggests that I’m probably not going to need to cook tonight.

“’Bout time,” Katie says, leaning against the kitchen counter dressed in a tight tube top, a short black pencil skirt and sky-high stilettos and wearing a lot more make-up, perfume and hairspray than she did when she went to work this morning.

“…Date tonight, then?” I ask, heading toward the fridge to pick out a meal only for my friend to block my path. “Gonna need a little context here?”

“The context,” Katie says with a wide, devilish grin, “is that you haven’t celebrated starting your new job yet, as you well know!”

“Umm…” I reply. “I went out for dinner yesterday with my workmates?” This answer obviously isn’t good enough for Katie, who simply shakes her head in response.

“Well- yeah, but you haven’t celebrated it with US yet,” Katie says with a giggle as Nikki, Sarah, Lauren and Ophelia all emerge from the living room, all dressed for a night out and all wearing wide, proud grins on their face, with none wider or prouder than my BFF.

“Did you really think we would let you get away without a celebration?” Ophelia asks with an uncharacteristic giggle. “After all, you were recovering all throughout the summer so we could not celebrate then.”

“But now, we CAN,” Nikki says as she produces a stereotypical journalist’s hat with a fake press pass tucked into the band and places it on my head. “It’s been FAR too long since the super six were last, well, a six. Not that I of all people can blame you for needing a few weeks off, hehe!”

“Oh- girlies, this really isn’t necessary,” I protest, even though I know there’s no point in arguing once the girls’ minds are made up. “Besides which, I’ve got work tomorrow, I know a lot of you have too, right?”

“Nope,” Katie replies with a smug grin.

“Even though Krystie doesn’t do the Wednesday morning lessons anymore, Jon still avoids scheduling work for Wednesday mornings,” Nikki explains.

“And we have projects we can work on at home,” Lauren says, pointing to herself and Ophelia.

“And you said you’ll be on the road tomorrow,” Katie reminds me. “So you’ve got no excuse!”

“And we really, REALLY miss our sister,” Sarah says in a soft voice. “Yeah, so we’ve all got new ‘gangs’ at uni or work, but so what? They’re not family. This is.” As if on cue, Katie takes her phone out of her handbag, and within seconds the unmistakable opening bars of ‘We Are Family’ by Sister Sledge are playing and the six of us are dancing around the kitchen.

“Ah, the party starts here, hehe!” Lauren giggles as the music fades out.

“No,” Katie corrects her BFF, “the party starts when Miss Hanley’s dressed properly!” I giggle as five pairs of eyes shoot expectant glances in my direction, and quickly retreat to my bedroom to get ready for the day ahead. However, seconds after I start stripping off, a gentle knock comes from my door- a knock I instantly recognise.

“Come in, O,” I say, grinning as my brown-haired BFF swishes into the room in her long (but with a very high slit) floaty skirt. “No hubby to cling onto tonight, then?” Despite my angst about my own single status, I’m forced to grin as Ophelia giggles at the mention of her 19 year old spouse.

“Telemachus has decided to stay home and catch up on his reading,” Ophelia replies. “Something I most definitely do not miss about university!”

“Yeah,” I say with a sympathetic smile as I remember how badly my BFF struggled with her dyslexia while doing her degree. “So, then… How’s life in the love shack? Everything still okay?”

“Everything is wonderful,” Ophelia replies in a dreamy voice. “After twelve months I did not think it would be possible to be more infatuated with Telemachus than I was at the beginning, but that has certainly been the case. Then again, I never thought it would be possible to be infatuated with anyone…”

“Yeah,” I half-heartedly chuckle as I fish through my wardrobe for an appropriate dress.

“A better question would be whether or not everything is okay with you?” Ophelia asks. “Whether or not you are settled in living with Katie?”

“…Yeah, ‘course I am,” I shrug. “I love Katie, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Ophelia asks. “But are you settled?” I open my mouth to ask Ophelia what she means by her question, only to pause as she and I both know exactly what she meant.

“…Kind of,” I reply. “I still miss, you know, the early days of you and me living together, you know? But I guess we’ve got to grow up, we’ve both got careers, you’ve got a husband…”

“Yes,” Ophelia says with what almost sounds like a sad sigh. “It is ironic that in order to live with my husband, I had to move away from my soul mate.” Naturally, this causes my tear ducts to well up.

“…Really?” I ask my BFF between sniffles. “As I’m applying my mascara?”

“It is true, though,” Ophelia says. “I miss the old days as well. And not just because you are a far superior cook to both myself and Telemachus!”

“I am going to much SUCH a great wife,” I boast, making my BFF giggle.

“You absolutely are,” Ophelia assures me. “As long as you follow my example and always make time for your friends?”

“Well, duh!” I chuckle. “You know, dad sent me something he found online the other day, apparently it takes 50 hours for someone to go from being an acquaintance to a casual friend, another 40 hours to become a ‘real’ friend and another 200 to become a close friend.”

“290 in total?” Ophelia asks, smiling as I nod. “All six of us must have long since passed that figure.”

“Oh, by miles,” I say. “Wonder how long it takes to go from ‘close friend’ to ‘BFF’?”

“Well,” Ophelia says with a grin, “for me, it was three seconds.” Needless to say, this causes my freshly-applied mascara to get completely ruined.

“…If we’re late for the party I’m blaming you,” I grumble, making my BFF laugh again as I reapply my make-up. “Where we going tonight, anyway? Doubt many clubs will be heaving on a Tuesday night…”

“We shall be going to Charlotte’s house,” Ophelia replies. “Though it’s actually Jamie who’s organising it tonight, as Charlotte will obviously have her hands full!” I smirk as I think of the two beautiful baby girls our friend (not to mention national celebrity) Charlotte gave birth to a few months ago.

“Thank god her bedroom floors are soundproof,” I chuckle. “Ahh… I’m really looking forward to tonight now, you know? Even though I was just there on Saturday evening, heh. Wonder why Jamie didn’t theme the party then?”

“I think there are other people coming tonight,” Ophelia replied. “Other people getting ‘fresh starts’. As you might have assumed from the lack of notice the party was a last minute decision.”

“Well, I’m definitely not complaining!” I giggle as I put the finishing touches to my look for tonight and go back to the kitchen to show it off to my friends, all of whom obviously approve!

As we head down to the taxi, I can’t help but muse on how different my two groups of friends are- and how different I am when around both groups. My work colleagues would likely be surprised to see me now, in my expensive cocktail dress and Christian Louboutin stilettos, but then again, the rest of my 'gang' probably wouldn't recognise me at work either. Though I suppose this is hardly anything out of the ordinary, having separate professional and personal lives- it just means I'm becoming more of a grown-up. And the most important thing is that in both lives, I am unquestionably 100% female.

A short while later, the taxi pulls up outside the familiar, expensive home of Charlotte Hartley and her family and the six of us spill out, already buzzing with excitement ahead of the evening’s fun. Before we even reach the front door, we’re greeted by the hostess for the evening, who makes sure to greet both myself and Nikki with long, friendly hugs.

“Hey girlies!” Jamie giggles. “Sorry about the short notice, glad you could all make it today, hehe!”

“Oh, like it was ever NOT gonna happen!” Sarah giggles.

“Why is it short notice, anyway?” Katie asks. “I was doing your headshots all morning and you didn’t say anything, then all of a sudden I get a text at, like, 2:30pm saying ‘party tonight’.”

“There are a few visitors in town today,” Jamie explains. “Only found out myself around 2:30, heh, but I figured I wouldn’t pass up the chance to celebrate everyone’s new starts at once, hehe!”

“Who’s in town, then?” I ask, before stepping into the house’s party room and freezing as my question is answered.

There, stood near the entrance of the room, are my 18 year old Welsh friend (and ‘fellowship’ member) Ian… And stood next to him is his best friend Lee Charlton. Who, more significantly, is also my ex-boyfriend. My last ex-boyfriend. Who I dumped. Recently. Yikes.

“Oh, umm, hey guys!” I say in a voice that’s undoubtedly way too overenthusiastic. “You down from Cardiff today, then?”

“Umm, well, yes,” Ian replies, making me frown at the obviousness of my question. “Just signing the contract for our flat, getting to know the area, that sort of thing.”

“Okay,” I say. “Definitely gonna be living in Islington, then?”

“Yep,” Ian replies with a cheeky grin. “Just down the road from the Emirates so I’m hoping to catch a few matches. And hoping to give my grandma a heart attack by having Jeremy Corbyn as my MP, heh.”

“Cool,” I say, trying my best to avoid my ex’s gaze as an awkward silence falls over the three of us. “So, umm… Chest still sore?”

“Sometimes,” Ian- who had a double mastectomy this summer at the same time I was having my operation- replies. “Is your- umm, your-“

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Lee hastily says before almost sprinting away, leaving me and Ian looking momentarily dumbfounded.

“It would ask if he was squeamish,” I say with a heavy sigh, “but a: I already know how squeamish he is, and b: I reckon he was just looking for an excuse to get away from me.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Ian says, nervously scratching his head.

“Umm… Is there something you’re not telling me?” I ask. “Come on, I thought I was your big sister?” I attempt a supportive giggle, though this only serves to make my ‘little brother’ look even more anxious.

“Lee, he-“ Ian says with a very noticeable grimace. “He kinda- kinda has a girlfriend. In Cardiff, I mean.”

“Oh, umm, okay,” I say. “Well, umm, fair enough, I suppose?” And it is fair enough, really- I dumped him as he really wasn't 'Prince Charming' material so I can hardly fault him for looking for someone else. Though I won't deny it hurts a little that he, the sarcastic self-proclaimed nerd who fiddles around with robots all day, found someone before I did...

“Okay,” Ian says. “He met her after she recognised him from Robot Wars, he’s been playing on that fame all summer with any girl who’ll listen and all those who won’t, and eventually-“

“Yeah- yeah, Ian, no offence, but I’m really not that interested?” I say, biting my lip as Ian frowns at my blunt tone of voice. “Umm… How are you and Chloe doing?”

“Doing great,” Ian says with a typically boyish smirk. “Gonna miss her while I’m in London, but she’ll be coming here in a year’s time anyway.”

“Cool,” I say. “And to, umm, answer your, umm, earlier question… Still a bit sore, still a bit of getting used to. And your cheeks are about to turn red.”

“…Yeah, a bit,” Ian grimaces. “But, you know, I guess these tattoos are, like, an obligation to each other? To help and support, maybe? I dunno.” As I nod and try not to feel too awkward, I let out an internal sigh of relief as another member of our ‘fellowship’ approaches with a wide grin on her face and a pretty blonde girl following closely behind.

“Hey guy and girl!” Our friend (and rich, famous and successful singer) Stephanie says with an excited giggle. “Jacinta, Ian, I’d like you to meet my friend Ellie, Ellie, this is Jacinta and Ian. Shouldn’t need to say which is which, hehe! Ian’s also going to be starting at UAL this month. And don't worry, we'll throw you both a REAL party when you do start, hehe!”

“H- hi,” Ellie says with a nervous wave as I greet her with a hug and Ian greets her with a gentle handshake.

“Hi,” Ian says. “You’re going to UAL too?”

“Yep,” Ellie replies. “Studying, umm, music, heh…”

“Ah, cool,” Ian says. “Graphic Design here, heh. If you’re doing music you should speak to Stuart, Jamie’s husband, he’s a music graduate as well.”

“I’ll let you two talk shop,” I say as I slink away and join my flat mate en route to the bar.

“For the record, I didn’t know your ex was gonna be here,” Katie says.

“Given that you didn’t know WE were gonna be here until a couple of hours ago, I’ll let you off,” as I sit down at the bar (which has been thankfully vacated by Lee), though I immediately regret this decision. “…Okay, bar stools and my new hoo-hah are NOT a good mix…”

“Are you okay?” Katie asks, immediately concerned by my grimace of pain.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” I moan as I stand and try to get myself comfortable- only to start blushing as the party’s hostess approaches us.

“Miss Hanley…” Jamie sighs, making me roll my eyes.

“Yes, yes, I know,” I mumble. “Don’t think I did any damage but it’s gonna suck to dilate tonight…”

“For what it’s worth, I did the exact same thing a few months after my operation,” Jamie says in a sympathetic voice as she leads me to a nearby sofa and instructs Katie to bring over our drinks. “And as I’m 5 inches shorter than you, it REALLY hurt, heh!”

"Ouch," I grimace.

"How are- how are, you know, 'things', anyway?" Jamie asks.

"Still, you know, 'weird'," I reply, eliciting a sympathetic smile from my friend.

"It'll get less weird, trust me," Jamie says softly. "You were always destined to be a beautiful, successful woman with all the right 'parts'. We just had to earn them a bit more than the rest of the girls, that's all. Months from now, you'll have forgotten what it was like to ever have had any 'hang-ons' and you'll be mounting that bar stool like a pro. I guarantee it."

"I guess," I mumble as I remember my concerns from yesterday morning and realise I'm literally sat next to the perfect person to discuss them with. "Jamie, did- did you, umm, after, you know..."

"Don't be so bashful, Jacinta," Jamie says with a grin. "Whatever it is you need to ask, just ask. We're both girls who've shared something special. Not 'wrong', not even 'unusual', just 'special'. It's only natural you'd have some questions even after the operation and you know all you have to do is ask."

"Okay..." I say hesitantly. "Did- after the operation, umm, did- did you feel, you know... Like you had something that didn't really belong to you?" My famous friend pauses briefly before answering, contemplating her answer to a question she'd clearly never been asked before.

"Not really," Jamie replies, making me fidget. "Well, not consciously, I guess. I didn't know many transgendered people back then, certainly not as many as I know now, and I was the first person I knew who had SRS, and as all my friends were female, they had no problem with it... Jacinta, have- have you been, you know, bullied, or something at work?"

"Oh- no, not at all," I reply, chuckling as I remember the conversation I had mere hours ago. "Quite the opposite, my bosses have made it clear that even any inappropriate questions will land whoever asked it in boiling water, heh."

"Good," Jamie says. "So why all the, you know, angst?"

"I- I dunno," I sigh. "I mean, I've wanted this my whole life, but- ugh, it's like you said, I'm five inches taller than you and taller than most girls in the room. All the other girls in the room, come to think about it. Even with a real, you know, 'thing', I still feel like an impostor, you know?"

"Okay," Jamie says, taking a deep breath. "First, talk to your counsellor about this. Second, most importantly: why did you want to have SRS?"

"Because I wanted to be the person I truly felt I was inside," I instantly reply, smirking as I realise what Jamie's getting at. "And yes, having the SRS worked there, it's just- ugh, I dunno."

"It IS a big change," Jamie says softly. "Gradually, it'll be like you never had anything else, take it from someone who knows, hehe! So don't fret, and remember that you'll always have friends who love you and accept you for the true, AUTHENTIC woman you are, okay?"

"...Okay," I chuckle.

"In the meantime, relax and enjoy the party!" Jamie giggles. "Think you can do that?"

“Yeah, I guess,” I chuckle, before trying not to frown. “…Though thanks for inviting my ex, by the way.”

“Oh-“ Jamie replies, frowning before letting out a sigh. “…Yeah, I could’ve maybe used a bit more brain there, heh. Him and Ian will probably be hanging out with Stuart and the boys anyway, but if not, just come and find me, okay?”

“Heh, can do,” I chuckle. “Any other fellowship members here tonight, then?”

“Jess has a flight tomorrow,” Jamie replies. “Ashley’s obviously only 15, Laura- well, I messaged Laura, but haven’t heard back yet, so I dunno. You’d figure she of all people would kill to be at a proper Angel party- well, okay, a party at Charlotte’s at any rate.” I chuckle in response to Jamie’s remark as I start to relax. It’s obvious that she’s trying to take my mind off of Lee, but I don’t mind one bit- especially as it’s working. And I'm still amazed that someone with over 5 million followers on Instagram will take time out of her day just to cheer me up...

“Is Charlotte going to be down later?” I ask. “Does she even know you’re having the party here?”

“Yes and yes,” Jamie replies with a playful eye roll. “She’s just dealing with the twins at the moment, once they’re settled she’ll be down.” Needless to say, if I’m amazed at Jamie being my friend, it goes about a hundred times more for Charlotte. However, both girls have never been anything but sincere about their commitment to the phrase ‘You can never have too many friends’.

“…Speaking of,” I say in a teasing voice, “if Stuart’s here as well, who’s looking after the cutest member of your family?” This time, I get an eye roll AND a sigh.

“My parents,” Jamie replies. “And before you say anything, it’s harder to get her grandparents to NOT babysit at times, especially since she’s started talking!"

“Would this be the cutest member of the Milton family we’re talking about?” Katie asks as she returns carrying three glasses of sparkling wine atop a small tray.

“Why does everyone call Olivia that?” Jamie asks.

“Because it’s true,” Katie and I reply simultaneously, making us both giggle uncontrollably, a giggle that quickly engulfs Jamie as well!

“Touché,” Jamie giggles as she sips her wine. “Anybody at your new work got any kids, Jacinta?”

“Umm,” I start to reply as I think about my answer- only to find out I don’t really know about the private lives of any of my colleagues. Well, apart from one of them, anyway… “Dunno, really. Only known them a couple of days, heh.”

“Well, apart from the one you’ve known years?” Katie reminds me, making me silently curse.

“Who’s that?” Jamie asks, eliciting more silent curses.

“Just- just someone I knew from school,” I explain. “In Brighton. He went to LCF, but he was above me. Us, umm, he was a- a year above us.” Smooth, Jacinta, I think to myself.

“…And that’s all we’re going to be told, trust me,” Katie says, snorting with laughter as I give her a subtle elbow in her ribs.

“More boy trouble?” Jamie asks in a sympathetic voice that no doubt disguises a feeling of exasperation. I could hear the word ‘yet’ in her mind that was missing from the start of her question.

“When are boys anything BUT trouble?” I ask, earning a cheer from my friends and a clinking of our glasses. Moments later, Jamie lets out a squeal of happiness as her BFF appears in the room and quickly makes a beeline toward us, greeting the three of us with a friendly hug each.

“Hey girls!” Charlotte giggles. “Especially you, miss ‘gainfully employed’, hehe!”

“Thanks!” I squeak, giggling excitedly as the room is filled with music and, despite my ‘soreness’, I get up and start to dance the night away. Though I make a point of staying as far away from Lee as possible.

When I head home just after midnight, though, I am considerably less stressed out than I was 48 hours ago. Sure, there’s been a big change in my life, but the one important thing that hasn’t changed is the vast web of friends, and the party was just what I needed to be reminded of that. My friends will always be there for me whenever I need them, and that's a fact I can take to the bank. Just a pity that another fact is that literally all of them are also in relationships.

The following morning, despite my late night, I’m awake before my alarm goes off, and for the first time in a long while, I’m actually okay with waking up alone in my bed. I’m even okay as I pass by Katie’s bedroom and the loud noises coming from within en route to the shower. Last night proved that I don’t need a man in order to have fun- if anything, last night would’ve been more fun without any men present. Well, depending on physical you like your ‘fun’, anyway. Still though, despite my lack of ‘Prince Charming’, at least I’m not saddled with any ‘ugly stepsisters’- quite the opposite, in fact. And at work, I’m confident that Terri and Lizzie will go out of their way to make sure there’s no ‘ugly sisterhood’ there either. And I can put up with Tom’s presence constantly reminding me of my lack of ‘Prince Charming’- it’s not like I’m going to run into any other reminders in my job.

My work day is spent visiting the homes of the various young fashion bloggers I’ve been sent to photograph, which is relatively straightforward but still fun as I work with the young women (all of whom are under 18) to create images that will hopefully cause our magazine to fly off the newsstands.

My final stop of the day is at a house in the West of the city for a fashion blogger whose name seems familiar to me, but I can't quite remember why. However, when I knock on the door, it suddenly comes back to me where I know the name 'Ally Clarke' from.

"Hang on," a familiar man's voice comes from behind the door, a voice that makes my stomach sink and makes me immediately silently curse the heavens with every swear word I know in every language I know. If ever I needed proof that I am the universe's plaything, it's about to open the door in three, two, one...

"...Jacinta?" The unmistakable voice of my ex-boyfriend Simon says as he stares at me, wide-eyed. "What- what are you doing here?"

"Umm... I'm, umm, here to see your sister?" I reply. "For the magazine?"

"They- they sent you?" Simon asks.

"You knew when you got together with me that I was studying fashion photography," I reply, pointing to the camera bag on my shoulder. "Now I, you know, work in fashion photography." Oh for fuck's sake, just please let me get this over with... I think to myself.

"Who is it?" An unfamiliar woman's voice asks from inside the house- a voice that doesn't sound anything like how I remember Simon's mother or sister sounding.

"Umm- umm, no one babe, just someone here to see Ally," Simon replies. So, obviously, he's in a relationship too, I think to myself. Maybe I should've been named 'Ally' as well, with the surname 'McBeal' just to hammer it home even harder...

"Can I come in?" I ask, trying not to grimace as Simon nods and lets me in, and trying not to flinch as a painfully familiar pair of eyes lock onto me as I walk through the living room en route to the stairs. "Hi Jenson, nice to see you again."

Of course, I carry out my job professionally- Simon's sister has gone from being an annoying, almost stereotypical teenager to a driven young woman with her own YouTube channel, a significant following (as in 'larger than mine') on Instagram and looking toward studying at LCF next September (something she credits me for as her inspiration, gratifyingly). And, of course, she has a boyfriend as well.

I've had my share of wins in the past, but I've got to be overdue one at this point. Yes, I'm finally starting life as the woman I always wanted to be and I'm at the start of what promises to be a long, successful career, and those are major victories to be sure. If I'm honest with myself, I don't really need a 'Prince Charming', not right now- so why does the universe keep reminding me of all of my previous 'also rans'?