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Chapter 3,
The project and beyond

Having mostly dealt with the trauma and aftermath of a violent assault and rape, Chris was now back at University but still involved with the support and counselling group

As is common in most university courses, although there were still a lot of formal lecture sessions, a major part of the final year is given over to a research project or dissertation, which ends with a submitted report and presentation of the the project to fellow students and staff. As I was still involved with the support group I asked that my time and experiences with them form the basis of my dissertation. My tutor was quite happy with this and advised that a personal involvement with a subject often results in a better result, but that I should still try to remain slightly detached so that my project remained objective and professional, and did not become too personal. She also suggested that as I would need to spend more time with the support group, it might be easier if I based myself at the associated campus in Truro, where I could access all the research information, and, depending on the course modules I chose, could also attend some sessions there or by video link, and only go in to Exeter when necessary for particular modules and to review my progress with the dissertation. After clearing with Sandy that it was acceptable to use the support group for my research, that’s what I decided to do and I gave up my room in the Halls of Residence and moved back home, saving a lot of money.

I continued working with the support group, although Sandy was now happy to let me lead a lot of the discussions and I was getting a lot of useful ideas and perspectives to incorporate into my report. At one of the sessions I was asked what had got me into the situation where I was assaulted, so I gave them a quick run down of how I got there just leaving out the details of exactly where I lived and had worked, as there was still a lot of confidentiality involved with everyone’s personal background, although everyone was pretty open with emotions and their thoughts.

“It’s coming up to Christmas soon,“ said Sandy, “What does anyone think about going out together for a meal to celebrate? We are all becoming a little bit more relaxed and outgoing and we should get out and enjoy ourselves again.” The normal after-meeting crew and a few others were up for it, so we agreed to book one of the better Italian Restaurants in St Austell for the Friday before Christmas. Louise, who was the one I had become most friendly with chipped in “Chris, now that we know about Chrissie, and her effect on your life, it would be nice if we could meet her, don’t say no straight away, have a think about it.

And so a couple of weeks later, Chrissie turned up at Trattoria Napoli for our Christmas party. Jilly had got me all glammed up, with a “LBD” with silver and red sparkles, which she thought very Christmassy, matching black lacy underwear, and 3” strappy heels, heavier evening make-up, and with a new, more feminine hairdo with a bit of colour and highlights that she had got one of her hairdresser friends to do for me. She had driven me up to St Austell, and with a “Call me if you want a lift home, I’m not going out tonight, go sock it to them Sis.”, Jilly watched me go to the door and then left for home.

With my coat buttoned up and holding my small clutch evening bag tightly, like a security blanket, I entered the restaurant shyly, and saw the gang in a separate alcove at the far end of the restaurant, where I thought we would have a bit of privacy and not attract too much attention, but it was not to be. Suddenly I had a gang of giggling women all over me, “Wow, where have you been hiding”, “you look amazing”,“love the dress”, “you should keep your hair like that, it really suits you”, “welcome to the party Chrissie come and sit down and have a glass of wine”, so much for not attracting too much attention.

I had an amazing evening, the girls were fantastic and so welcoming, the food was delicious, especially the Lean Gurnard, a traditional Italian regional Christmas recipe made with fish, seafood and vegetables, and the tiramisu was to die for. After the meal we all got up to dance, even finishing off the night with the waiters leading us in a traditional Tarantella folk dance. Dancing in heels for the first time was different, the whole balance and body movement changes, but I managed without falling over or treading on anyone. It was all over too quickly, I had really enjoyed myself and just fitted in with the girls, like I had at the cafe, but it was soon time to go home. I couldn’t get a reply from Jilly’s phone, sometimes in bad weather the signals are not very good down in Mevagissey, I didn’t want to call home as, if Jilly had decided to go out, I didn’t want mum to come out on such a dark wet night, and the cost of a taxi back from St Austell would be a silly price.

“ Why don’t you come back to mine,” said Louise, “I don’t live too far away, and there is a spare bed.”

“ Are you sure, all men are pigs remember.”

“ I think I might be mellowing, you have helped pull me back from that, and besides I see a Chrissie before me, not a Chris.”

After a drink and a chat about how everyone had loosened up and enjoyed the night, it was time for bed. “That’s the spare room in there, you had better go in and clean off the warpaint, feel free to use any of the cleansers and things you find in the bathroom, and don’t forget to moisturise when you are done. I’ll dig out something for you to wear, and leave it on the bed for you.’’

I had a problem in that Jilly had got some adhesive breast forms for me for tonight as they would help the LBD sit better, and I didn’t have the remover with me, but it worked out ok as Louise had left me out a satin ice-blue strappy nightie which fitted surprisingly well over “my” breasts. I went out for a goodnight hug and kiss, thanked her for putting me up and went off to bed. After the bustle and excitement of the day and evening I dropped straight off to sleep.

I woke the next morning and felt a tickle on my face which turned out to be Louise’s hair, she had crept into the bed instead of going into her own and we had slept spooned all night.

”Louise are you awake.”

“H’mm, I’m still a bit sleepy, go and help yourself to coffee or something and I’ll be out in a while”.

I grabbed a matching full-length dressing gown from the door hook and went out into the kitchen and by the time she appeared there was a pot of coffee on the go, and some fresh croissants just coming out of the oven.

“I forgot you sometimes work in the cafe kitchen, I could get used to this pampering. I’m glad you enjoyed last night and got on so well with the rest of the girls, we must do it again sometime soon, but maybe just the two of us.”

“Are you sure? When we first met you hated and were wary of all men, and now you invited me into you house, shared a bed with me and are suggesting we go out on a date.”

“ I’m pretty sure, I’m now a lot more content, but I need to make certain, come back to bed with me now and we’ll see how it goes.” We were both a little bit apprehensive as it was the first time for both of us since we had been raped and emotions were very mixed, but we eagerly started to explore each other’s body, caressing and kissing, and we soon made quite passionate love until we had both reached climaxes, and relaxed cuddled in each others arms. After an encore or two, we decided we had better get out of bed and enjoy the day.

I had no change of clothes, I had intended to go back home, and the dress was too formal to wear for a day around town, but Louise offered the loan of a skirt and top which was a reasonable fit for me. After applying a light daytime make-up, and some lippy and mascara, we went into town for a lunch and some shopping. “You can’t go home on the bus in your dress, it’s over-the-top for day-time, you need to get some new clothes. Either get some Jeans, a shirt and some trainers, and go back as Chris, or get a skirt, top and some shoes and go back as Chrissie, which is it to be? If you ask me, with your hair styled and streaked like that and with your false boobs, I suggest Chrissie is the best option.” My collection of women’s clothes had started

The next few months were very intense between my College course work at Exeter and Truro, researching and compiling my dissertation, and continuing with the group sessions, although often attending as Chrissie, rather than as Chris, at the suggestion of Louise and Sandy. I was becoming much more relaxed and at ease as Chrissie, and, apart from the occasional discomfort of nipping bras and control briefs, beginning to actually enjoy the feel and emotions of life as a woman and being dressed in skirts and dresses. Between Jilly and Louise I had never-ending advice on what suited me and what I should avoid.

The members of the group sessions constantly changed as some came to terms with their experiences and moved on in life, but unfortunately there were always new people to replace them. Most of the new members became regulars for a while but some only came once, sat quietly listening without contributing and disappointingly never came back. Louise stopped attending as, helped by the counselling sessions and my personal attention to her in bed, she was now outwardly totally comfortable in male company, although she still had a preference for me to be Chrissie whenever I stayed over at her place.

Many of the new members were still traumatised from their experiences, but we found that my appearance and personal history as Chrissie helped them to open up. As research, I had lots of one-to-one discussions with several ex-members of the group who had now moved on, and explored how and why the sessions had helped. One of them, Angela, told me that before I started with them, the discussions were not doing her a lot of good, a lot of the talk was just about self-pity. and how horrible men were. However my positive approach and openness about my own feelings had encouraged her to think about what she wanted in life and how to move on to achieve her aims, and that she was now much happier and owed a lot of it to me. This made me feel really good and I began to consider this style of work as a career after my graduation, to see if I could really make a difference to peoples lives.

I completed my course and submitted my dissertation, “The Benefits of Group Counselling for the Victims of Sexual Trauma“, including, anonymously, a lot of the comments I had received from my discussions, along with references to research papers by others. I prepared for my presentation to fellow students and staff, and although these are normally low-key and rather routine affairs, I decided, with the guarded approval of my tutor, to make my presentation as Chrissie. When I approached the podium wearing heels skirt blouse and full make-up and was introduced as Christopher Trevelyan, there was a bit of a murmur and a few sniggers and giggles around the room.

“Good afternoon everyone, most of you know me and you may be a bit surprised, shocked, embarrassed, or even disgusted, at the way I am dressed, but this is nothing compared to the embarrassment, disgust and humiliation suffered by the victims of sexual assault. Recovery is often a long drawn out affair, unless the victims can be made to realise that rather then harbouring anger at the actions of their attacker, and wallowing in self-pity, time would be better spent determining where they wanted their life to go and making positive changes to get there. Sometimes you need to adopt an unconventional approach to dealing with each individual person to suit their particular issues, rather than adopt a one-size-fits-all solution, which I why I dressed like this for a lot of my research discussions. I then followed up with an outline of my involvement with my support group and gave examples, obviously with the names changed, and details of how their lives had been turned around by attending the group sessions. As I finished, what started out as the normal polite ripple of applause turned into a crescendo of clapping, whistles, and even a “good for you girl, go for it”.

As I left the room I was approached by a well dressed middle-aged lady who did not seem to fit into the category of either student or staff, who I vaguely recognised but couldn’t put a name to.

“ Hello Chris or is it Chrissie, you may not remember me but I attended one of your support group discussions. I am Marilyn Wright, I am the director of Social Services at Cornwall County Council. Sandy at the support group told about how you changed the approach at the group sessions and were able to sympathise and empathise with many of the people there, especially using your penchant for dressing as Chrissie to help them accept you and help them move on in life, and so I came to see for myself, and left very impressed.That was an excellent presentation today and I was most intrigued that you appeared as Chrissie, but it really helped to get your points across. Here is my card, when all the excitement is over, assuming you have done well on your course give me a call, I think we may have a very good opportunity for you.”

A few weeks later, now as a proud graduate with BSc (Hons) -1st class, I called up Marilyn Wright who told me that she needed to replace one of their social workers who was retiring on health grounds, and that if I decided to join her team, my primary role would be to support and monitor voluntary groups around the county helping people with all sorts of problems, trauma , sexual, disability, psychological and victims of crime. Although most of the groups were run on a self-help voluntary basis the Council gave practical and limited financial support to allow the work to continue. She added that my ability to work as either Chris or Chrissie could help in certain circumstances but that would be at my discretions if I felt it useful. Obviously I would need to make a formal application and pass interview, but she said that would not present a problem as the job was mine if I wanted it.

I got the job without any difficulty and I moved in full-time with my fiancée Louise in St Austell to set up home together, and although to the world in general and to neighbours I was Chris, in the privacy of our own home, and for special nights out Chrissie made frequent appearances. As most of my work was out-and-about rather than office-based I was free to appear as Chris or Chrissie as appropriate and as the mood took me.

I now have a loving and understanding partner, a fulfilling career with excellent long-term prospects with a caring and tolerant employer, life is wonderful, who knows what the future might bring ! Maybe a little bit of suffering makes us all stronger and a better person if we can overcome the immediate pain.

The end