Life's Changes

by

Meggan Sommers

 

The Beginning

"Honey. Would you get our guest a glass of water?"

"Sure dad." came a sweat young voice from the kitchen.

"Here. Have a seat. What can I do for you?"

"Well Mr. Stephens, I'm here to research Michael Rogers."

Doug hadn't heard that name in years. Michael did indeed have a story. A story with unimaginable story line. Let's listen in on it. What follows are the words of Douglas Stephens.

Let me start at the beginning and tell you his story. Our parents went to high school together and our birthdays were only two months apart. We both had sisters about ten years older than us. And since we lived only two doors away from each other, we grew inseparable when we were young. Michael's father died from complication from lung cancer when we were three. Michael's mother knew he was going to be different from the start. Unlike almost all babies when born, Michael didn't cry at all, not once, when he was in the hospital or so his mother said. Over all, he was a quiet guy. He liked to listen to music, not being much of a reader, and watching sports. He gave up trying at sports when he was little. He decided if he didn't try, he didn't fail.

Since he wasn't an athletic stud, he tried to impress people with little bits of trivial information that he had heard. Most of the time he got some part of it wrong or exaggerated part of it, but no one ever said anything.

Michael wasn't ugly or homely but he was no Robert Redford. He tried to get girls to like him by being their friend and help them in any way he could. He would talk to them, help them with their homework if he could, and he even helped in the church nursery. Almost anything, just to help them out. Mostly he just hung around with them. In fact that's what most of his friends were, girls. He told me once he felt better, more secure, with them. He knew, most of the time, what to talk about. He felt out of place when he was in a group of all guys. If there was just one girl or me, he was okay. The reason he felt okay with me was because we were close friends. But that's when he was in a group, most of the time he was a loner. If there was a social with our church youth group, he somehow managed, even if it wasn't consciously, to set himself off from the group.

Michael was the type that would go out of his way for others. One time when Sue, a below average student, received an A on a major math test, he treated her to dinner at a local restaurant. He would loan money to people and he never asked for it back. One year Michael ignored his finals to help three people with their finals in other classes. He received B's and C's on his tests while they acquired A's and B's. He did things for everyone in one way or another.

Michael was active at church too. He was a sound and media technician for the Sunday services. Corey Larson, sound and media chairman, wanted Michael to be the chairman when he got out of high school. Michael was really good on the sound board. Michael was a natural. He taught things to technicians that had been on the board longer than him. They often called him the boy genius.

He also worked in the nursery and primary departments. He taught Sunday School at times too. Like I said before, he liked to do things for others. Oh, at Christmas, he was the only guy in the high school department to give out Christmas cards.

Michael worked at a local department store as an office manager in the adult clothing section. At seventeen, he was in charge of ten employees that worked the floor. He was well liked by the other employees because he was easy to work with. He always told someone when he or she was slacking off and asked them if they had a good reason. Sometimes a person would have a personal problem and their mind would not be on the job. If that was the case, Mike would offer to listen to them if they wanted, if not asked them to try to concentrate more and hope the problem would be solved. If there was no personal problem, he would ask, not demand, for that person to work harder and earn his or her paycheck.

Michael thought he didn't have any friends which was not in the least bit true. He felt like he didn't fit-in anywhere. He told me that even though cliques are wrong, he would rather be in one than be an outsider. He also told me that he often thought of having an accident just to see who would come to see him. I tried to convince him that he wasn't an outsider and even the kids in the youth group at church told him he wasn't. The people at the department store looked up to him, but he had it locked in his mind that he was. Maybe the secret he kept was part of it.

You know the feeling that something is just not right or someone is hiding something. Well that is the feeling I got and several others mentioned that they thought something was strange on days that we talked to or saw Michael. On days that the temperature reached the 80's, he would wear jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweat shirt over that. I had no idea what it possibly could be at the time. We just thought he was crazy. We found out later what it was.

 

Revelation and Discovery

You now know as much as I did. One Wednesday night our church youth pastor, Tony Frank, told us that Michael had something important to say. I remember that night as if it were last night. Michael got up in front of the group and told us something that stunned and shocked us all.

"I'm not too sure where to begin." Michael said cautiously.

"Just say it." John spoke up.

"Okay. Well." Michael pause to collect his thoughts. "I'm a transsexual."

There was a long, very silent pause. The few seconds seemed like a few hours. You could here a pin drop, after the sound of chins hitting the floor. I don't know who, but someone asked 'how' quietly and probably to themselves , but never the less Michael heard it and answered.

"How you ask? Well, it all started when I was really young. I always knew I was different. For those who are wondering what I'm talking about, I'll explain. A transsexual is one who has lost all desire to dress and be of the same sex. They dress, act, and live as the opposite sex. There are about 200,000 people in the U.S. that have been diagnosed as having Gender Dysphoria Displacement, which is the medical term for transsexuals."

Then everything came together, the 80 degree days, hanging around with girls all the time, the Halloween two years ago. Everything came together. I remember that Halloween so clearly. Mike and I were planning to spend the day together and to go to the youth group Halloween costume party that evening. We spent the morning at the zoo near by. In the afternoon Mike said that we should go to his house because his costume took awhile to put together. I agreed, seeing nothing wrong with the explanation. When we got to his house Becky, his sister, met us at the door.

"We better get to work on you, Mike. It's four o'clock. The party is at six." She hustled Mike into her room. Watching his transformation from plain old Michael into a young and beautiful woman, was like watching my own sister before her senior prom. The whole time, Mike and Becky went on as two girls gossiping about the happenings at school and the people in their lives. The curlers in his hair, the skimpy bikini panties, black nylons and garter, the sexy black bra, with breast forms, and the slip, and the make-up over the smooth features of his face all added to the illusion. With each stroke of the brush of make-up, the closer he came to looking like an actual female and not a male in drag. He then chose a casual, black, sleeveless evening gown that reached the mid thigh. He also selected a pair of shimmering black one inch heels and small black hand bag out of the collection of accessaries in Becky's closet. The illusion was complete. If I had not seen it for myself I would not have been able to recognize him. From his first step into Becky's room to the last adjustment of the evening gown, it took Mike about one and a half hours for the transformation to be completed. It only took me ten minutes to change into my lumberjack costume.

As we were driving to the party, the weirdest sense came over me. For a brief moment I thought there was an actual female sitting beside me. I had to keep reminding myself that this was my friend Mike and not Meggan. He asked me not to disclose who he actually was until someone else guessed or discovered the illusion. To make the situation even more elaborate, he said that he would be my date for the night. I felt strange about the whole thing but agreed because it would be a great practical joke on everyone there. We got to the party a few minutes late and everyone was standing around talking. As we walked in, I felt a gentle touch of soft fingers making their way into my hand. I looked down and saw smooth fingers tipped with maroon nail polish in my hand. Goose bumps run up my arm. I had to keep repeating in my mind, "This is your best friend Michael."

Everyone fell for the illusion. Mike had dreamed up a whole life for Meggan. She was a sophomore at a high school in California. She lived with her mother in a apartment in San Jose and modeled for a local department store's ads. The story went on, no one had the slightest clue of the real person they were talking to. Mike said that we had met when I was out in California on a family vacation last year and we had grown very close. All of the guys and a few of the girls complimented me on my taste in women. I just laughed. At the end of the party, we decided not to ruin the gag and never did tell them the real story.

Later that night, after the party was over, Mike and I went back to his house for a midnight snack. We sat down on the sofa, Mike gently crossed his legs and adjusted the hem of his dress. We laughed about what people had said at the party. I told him that I had to keep reminding myself of who he really was. I looked up at him and all I saw was a beautiful young girl looking into my eyes. We started to lean toward each other with our eyes never parting. Then I remember my eyes closing and our lips meeting and touching my hand to his cheek. My heart raced. The passion in the kiss was real. The moment seemed an eternity. Then my senses came snapping back and I pulled away from him still breathing hard. He looked at me as though he wanted to continue.

"Please. Don't stop." Mike pleaded.

I looked at him and said something to the affect that it was late and I had to leave. In the car I wiped the lipstick off and drove home. That situation was only mentioned between ourselves and only on rare occasions.

My attention returned to what Mike was saying. "My mom let me take a vacation by myself so I decided to go to New York for two weeks last summer. I took two suitcases. One was filled with male clothes and the other was filled with female clothes. For one whole week I lived as a woman. One night when I was dressed as a woman, I went out on the town. I stopped at a fancy disco and bar in the down town area and was picked up by this guy. He was about six feet tall. He had dark brown hair with stunning blue eyes. He wasn't built like the Hulk but he did look like he worked out at a health spa. I thought to myself, 'Hey this guy is kinda cute.' I naively thought `What could go wrong.'

"He walked me back to his apartment, which was only a few blocks away, for drinks. When we got to where he lived, there was a fire already burning in the fireplace. All the lights were out creating a vary romantic atmosphere. Over on the table was a bottle of red wine chilling in ice and two glasses waiting to be used. My awareness of the possible danger of being discovered was lost in the romantic moment. He poured the wine and we nestled in some cushions in front of the fireplace. We talked a little, drank a little, kissed a little. The whole time I felt nothing could go wrong. I was in heaven and I was wrong. After we finished the glasses of wine, the situation became physical. His gestures and kisses began to lose their romantic touch. No longer was it a peaceful atmosphere. He started to attack me. He was trying to unbutton my blouse. I tried to resist, but he became even more persistent. Lunging his tongue into my mouth as he pulled my blouse off. I continued to struggle against his advances, but his strength overwhelmed me. He got my blouse and skirt off, but only with a struggle.

"With only a my slip, bra, nylons and panties on, he carried me to his bedroom and resumed his advances towards me. When he found I was wearing false breasts, he became a little suspicious, but it did not dull his drive, probably because many women these days have mastectomies and wear false breasts. Even when he found out I wasn't what he was expecting, the female he had picked up in the bar, he stepped back and looked me up and down with a perverted grin on his face. I must have been a sight. A cowardly shaven male body staring back at him with a Princess Di hair do and make-up covering the face. I was shivering with fear. `What could possibly happen next?' I thought. Then his smile widen and he took me under the covers of the bed. I was in a daze and just went with the flow. He persisted to violate me. All I could do was lie there on the bed and accept what he was doing to me. Though my eyes were closed, I could feel the rhythmic motions of his pelvis against me as he kissed me up and down my neck and back. I could only wait until the whole thing was over. My chance to escape the hellish nightmare came when he climaxed and fell asleep. I put my clothes back on and left his apartment."

Michael paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. Then he went on. He told us how his problem started. There were tears of pity in some eyes and shock and disbelief in others. The youth group was never the same after that night. They tried to hide what they were thinking but it always showed. For two years nothing was the same when Michael was around.

After that night at church, Michael didn't care if his secret was discovered by a stranger. I noticed, in the gym locker room at school, that Michael's legs and face were clean shaven. At times, you could tell he was wearing makeup and I noticed his eyebrows had been plucked. Then I began seeing him cross-dressed out in public.

The first time I was at his house after that Wednesday night, I went into his room and what I saw really did shock me. Over half his closet was full of skirts, blouses and dresses. I noticed a baby blue nightgown sticking out from under his pillow on his bed. His dresser was full of other female clothing; from sweaters and slacks to bras and panties. On top of the dresser were all sorts of make up, a curling iron and a few brushes. On the bookshelf there were a number of romance novels and books explaining Michael's problem. Some of the books were Second Serve, Man into Woman, The Mystery of Gender Displacement. He told me that most of the clothes were clothes that his sister and mother did not were anymore or were on loan. The rest of them he bought himself at his own department store. Michael's mother, Stephanie Rogers, was either too drunk or gone on business to notice what Mike was doing right under her nose. And with his father dead it was easy, at least part of the time, to live as a female. When he and his sister were young, they would play house. Becky would play the mother and he would play the daughter. In a way Becky encouraged him. She thought it was fun for Mike to turn into Meggan. It gave her a sister and brother and a boyfriend and girlfriend. Mike relished the times when they could go out as sisters and shop or see a movie or just walk around the mall.

1979 was our senior year in high school. Everything was going smooth for Michael. People were beginning to warm up to him again after that memorable Wednesday night. He felt a little bit more secure. But then American Airline's flight 191 went down after take-off in Chicago. All passengers and crew were killed. Mrs. Stephanie Roger's was on board. She was leaving for her last business trip for the company she worked for. After the funeral, Becky was termed legal guardian for Mike since he was not eighteen yet. There was enough money in the bank and the income Becky made from her job as a legal secretary was enough for the two of them to live on, though they did sell the house for money to be secure in a big apartment.

Each time I visited their apartment, the more his room started to look feminine. By the time we graduated from high school, two years after the night he disclosed his secret, a stranger would not be able to distinguish Michael's room from Becky's. His closet had totally filled with female clothing. His bed was covered by a white bedspread fringed with white lace. There were posters of male movie stars on the walls and the calendar on his bulletin board had pictures of oiled muscular men wearing only a skimpy swim suit.

Mike and I often did things together. We would go to movies, go swimming. You might think it would be difficult for a male to look feminine in a female swimsuit but he cross-dressed even when we went swimming. I don't know how he did it but he looked great in a one piece swim suit. A onlooker would never take a second look at him. To them he was female.

Speaking about people thinking he was female, Mike, dressed as Meggan, introduced me to Andy Lilie. he was a college student that was in town for the summer working as a lifeguard at the beach in the city. Andy had no idea who he was actually dating. Andy thought he was dating Meggan Rogers, a teenage girl who just graduated from high school. The relationship between them became quite close. One time I saw them kissing in the back seat of Andy's car. The relationship came to an end when Andy went back to school at the end of the summer. Mike told me that was his first true experience at being accepted as a female for a long period of time.

 

 

The Trial Years

After we graduated from high school, we decide to attend a nearby junior college before going on to a four year university. The junior college was too far to commute everyday so we also decided to share the cost of a two bedroom room apartment only two blocks from the school. Michael asked me if I minded his cross-dressing. I said not really because I had become use to it and I understood that it was part of him.

Michael was going to be adventurous and try to enroll as a female and live as a female. I was a little bit taken back by this but learned to live with it. It was interesting to live in the apartment as him. For the first time I witnessed the rituals he went through each day to become a female. Mike would wake up at five A.M. to prepare for the day. He would shower and shave his face and legs and would then plucked his eyebrows. Since his hair was long, below his shoulders, he could curl it or braid it. I had watched my sister put her make-up on and I noticed no difference in how Mike did his.

After about nine to twelve months of him living totally as a female, I had a tougher time thinking of him as Michael. I thought of him as Meggan. He did the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. On the coffee table right next to my Sport's Illistratated and Motor Week magazines were his Good Housekeeping and Flair. Everything he did was feminine. There were only faint clues of Michael left.

I knew Michael was going to Doctor Damon, a psychiatrist, since our sophomore year to help straighten out his feelings. The doctor told Mike never to show up as a female, since the doctor's mind was set on trying to deal with the cross-dressing and the doc was hoping to stop it. But Meggan knew there was no turning back.

One full year of college went by and everything was about the same. Then Doctor Damon made a startling decision, Meggan was diagnosed as a transsexual and was placed on female hormones. He had tried his best but realized the medical truth. That was in May of 1981, by August, she had good breast development and the fatty deposits began to take female contours. Since she had already lived almost a full year as a female, she could have the surgery as soon as she could afford it. Unfortunately for her the time for surgery would be far in the future. Neither of us had very much money in the bank and the surgery would cost an estimated eight thousand dollars.

In the mean time, she underwent electrolysis to remove her facial hair. It was a painful process. I went with her on several occasions for support. The process involves a small needle that is strategically placed at the base of the hair. Then electricity burns the root so it won't grow back. This is done six to ten time for each hair follicle. The patient has to lay perfectly still or her face will look like the surface of the moon. I sat beside her, holding her hand and wiping away the tears for her. The process took over two years but Meggan never gave up.

You may think this whole story is a little bit on the weird side. Okay. A lot on the weird side. Your right. I saw my best friend change himself from a normal, average looking male to a young and very attractive female. The guy I would double date with was now dating the guys on the college football team. Meggan dated more in one month than Mike did in one year. And seeing my best friend in curlers and a nightgown at night was at times more than I could take, but since I had seen Meggan developed into the young, beautiful person she was, the whole situation was not so hard to accept. It was vaguely like watching my sister grow up, except in this case it only took a year.

That is one thing that Meggan never had a problem with. She was accepted by everyone she met. No one ever questioned her femininity. She wore the same style of clothes other girls her age wore; short mini-skirt, tight blouses and bikinis. Though she was careful not to undress from the waist down in front of other females, she did not care who saw her. She loved her newly formed body. She wanted to show it off, with in reason of course.

(I guess I should explain why I use the female pronouns and Meggan's name and not Mike's. You might think since he has not had the operation to change his sex, he is still male. With that argument, I can not deny. But in all other aspects Mike is Meggan. Except for the genitals, there is no longer any hint that Michael Rogers ever existed.)

 

 

Big Plans

Knowing Meggan was totally different than the Michael I had known. Mike was very withdrawn in public. Meggan on the other hand was very out going, personable and someone you wanted as a friend. She was a volunteer at a child day care facility in the afternoon and all the children adored her and she loved them too. She was also very smart.

Meggan had a good mind for business. She was already store manager at the department store where Mike once work. Mike quit that job a few days after graduating from high school. Meggan went back there six months later for a low management position and started her way up the ladder. Probably because she could solve any problem that was thrown at her.

After living together over a year and a half, Meggan and I became very close. We would share things with each other that we told no one else. We would talk about the people we dated, our secret dreams and fantasies. I wanted to be the manager of a ritzy restaurant in New York. She wanted to walk down the aisle wear in a beautiful wedding gown with yards and yards of lace on it. She wanted to marry a wealthy man and live in Vermont. One of her dreams that would never come true was her dream to bear children. A dream that nearly all females have that would not be in Meggan's future. One night as we talked she started to cry because of her condition, a female trapped in a male body. As I held her, I knew a very strong bond had grown between us.

We started to hold hands in the halls at school, snuggling up in front of the television, doing things normal couples did on dates. Dating her was as natural as the past girls I dated. We kissed each day as we parted company. We even started to sleep together. Since we both had a aversion to oral sex nothing went on during these times, we just wanted to be close together. Most of the time I forgot Mike ever existed. Meggan was a whole new person.

This went on for a year as we both finished up with our associates degree. The topic of marriage was coming up in conversation more often than it had before. One day when I was talking to Becky the subject came up. I told her what had been going on between Meggan and myself. Becky was not surprised. She knew that someday this would have happened if we had kept living together. I asked her what I should do. She asked me if I loved Meggan. I fumbled around for a few moments thinking about the question then realizing that I did love her. Becky suggested we talk about getting married. We were both adults, knew the whole situation and could decide on a reasonable solution.

That night at dinner, Meggan and I discussed the idea.

We had been living together for more than two years. We did love each other. We both understood Meggan's situation, so we decided to go ahead with the marriage.

My parents had known I was living with a girl but they never knew about what had happened to Mike. They didn't care for me living with a female but knew that nothing would happen. My sister on the other hand knew about Meggan and who she really was and thought the whole situation was getting closer and closer to being homosexual. My sister thought it was sick and perverted. I tried talking to her. Meggan tried to talk to her but all she could see was a man in drag and her little brother planning to marry him. Though she hated the whole idea she never told our parents. She had enough respect to let me tell them when the time was right.

Meggan and I had five months before we had to move to the university to study our majors. We wanted to get married as soon as possible to qualify for housing for married couples. With our responsibilities at the junior college completed, Meggan and I moved back home. She moved back with her sister and I moved back in with my parents. We finally set a date, August twelfth, which would be one week before we would move in to school housing.

By now Meggan had managed to get her license changed to Meggan Rogers and she had other forms of identification, so there was no problem with verifying that she was for all practical purposes a female. Her breast had fully developed and the electrolysis treatment was finished leaving a very smooth, feminine look. The natural fatty deposits had also done their job of making Meggan into a beautiful female.

The only remnant of Michael Rogers left was the picture my sister kept in her apartment. It was of Mike and I when we graduated from high school three years before. Somehow that day and that person seemed to have never existed. The love that Meggan and I shared erased any doubt that we were doing anything wrong. The several months flew by as we planned the wedding and then it was here. I woke up fairly early to jog the few miles I usually did three times a week. I decided to jog past the high school to take a good look at it and try to remember my high school days. As I jogged, my mind wondered through the past. The story of Mike in New York, that Halloween party and the night at church when he revealed his secret all came racing back. The images were exceptionally clear in my mind. Then my mind raced to the present and the images I saw of Meggan and seemed to have no connection with the earlier memories of Mike. They didn't even look the same. I had very little doubt of what I was doing. I loved Meggan and nothing could stop it.

As each hour passed, I became more nervous. Then I realized I was standing at the front of the church sanctuary and the music of the wedding march started to fill the air. I turned and saw her standing at the back of the room. The wedding gown was lined with lace and lace trim. The train was almost eight feet in length made of pure white satin. Her arms were covered in a very soft white lace that came down the length of her arms and was secured by a small strip of satin that went around her middle finger. The bodice was close-fitting and had a low cut v-line descending to the middle of her breast. It was heavily covered with elaborate designed lace which also came up around her neck. Her head dress and vale were designed with the same lace as the trim and sleeves on the gown. The head dress complimented her dark hair which gently fell to her shoulders. Even with the vale over her face I could see her smiling face and the tears in her eyes.

As she approached, I held out my hand to her. We turned toward the minister and the ceremony began. The time flew by and it was time to kiss the bride. As we were facing each other, I lifted her vale and gently rested it on the back of her head. The we came closer together and then our lips met. After what seemed like eternity, we let go and turn to face the congregation still holding hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the minister announced. " I would like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Dougless Stephens."

As the minister said the word Mrs., Meggan squeezed my hand harder in the realization of a dream.

She was married and to a man. Meggan Rogers, formally Michael Rogers, was now Mrs. Meggan Stephens.

 

 

Real Life

The four years of college seemed to fly by. We both received our degrees in restaurant management. Meggan had been working as a hostess at Casa Azteca, a very fine Mexican restaurant. The restaurant was near school and our apartment which made it ideal. I had a job of assistant manager of a small Italian place a few blocks from the university. We both enjoyed our work and were accepted as fine employees.

Meggan still had not undergone the reassignment surgery, but no matter. Her facial hair had been gone for nearly four years. Her body had filled out as much as it would, well developed breasts, smooth curves of a woman, and her voice was as feminine as possible. The surgery would have to wait until we had the money.

Meggan lead a relatively normal life for any woman but, there was a time, one terrible time, that someone approached her and outright told her, in her face, that she was a fag and looked like a sideshow freak. How this man could have known Meggan's true identity is a mystery.

It happened in the hall of our apartment building. She was coming home from school and I had gone to work. Meggan told me the story later. Even though Meggan no longer had the strength she once had when she was a man, she clenched her fist and swung stiff-armed across his hooded face knocking him backwards. He regained his composure quickly and grabbed her by the arm and with his other hand seized the material of the back of Meggan's dress and pulled. The dress ripped apart taking with it her slip. Now most of her body was displayed. Her bra, panties and shoes were all that was left. Meggan screamed for help but no one answered her cry. The man proceeded to disrobe her violently. Meggan froze when he drew a switch blade out of his right boot. The man pick her up and threw her against the wall. With her chest pinned, he took the knife, slid it under the bra strap and yanked outward. He swung Meggan around, grabbed the bra between her breasts and pulled down. In the same sweeping move, he caught her panties and pulled them off as well.

She stood there shivering with fever, sobbing hysterically, and her body totally naked, her breasts hanging and her tiny male genitals also in view. The man's hand kept positioning on the knife. His eyes were filled with hate and a perverse enjoyment. He positioned his left hand firmly between Meggan's breasts.

"Make up your mind! Do you want to be a man?!" he motioned as though he would slice across her chest. "Or a woman?!" He waved the knife near her groin. "What will it be?!" All Meggan could do was cry. Tears flow down her check, with her mascara outlining the path. "So. You want to be a weak sniveling female huh! I can arrange that." His eyes gleaned with a perverse, hideous look. With that he poised his right arm straight behind his back and readied to stab her in the groin.

Just as he began the swing down, Meggan mustered enough strength to break free of his hold and run. As Meggan slipped from the man's grasp, the knife plunged into the wall. The man stumbled a bit but was after Meggan in no time. She ducked into the laundry room and waited for her attacker. He slowed down and entered the room with caution.

"I know you're in here fag." With his back toward her, she took off one of her shoes and with the two inch heel as a weapon, she laid it into the back of his head. He turned, looked at her, anger burned in his eyes, and fell to the floor. She told me that all of it happened in a span of a few minutes but it seemed like an eternity.

As she walked back to pick up her clothes, she was met by four police officers, one a woman. They said they had an anonymous tip of an attack in progress. Meggan was too weak and frightened to speak, so she just motioned in the direction of the laundry room. As two of the officers ran passed her, the woman officer took Meggan’s blazer and put it around her. She could hear the other officers voices over the walkie-talkies. "Central- this is unit ten."

"Go ten."

"Scene secure. Send the medics up, apartment two-thirteen. We also need the boys from forensics down here."

"Ten-four unit ten."

The woman officer led Meggan back to our apartment to get dressed and to get the report. The paramedics came in a few moments later and examined her for any injuries. Meggan refused to be taken to the hospital, she was shaken and her scratches would heal. As Meggan got dressed she told the officer what had happened. The policewoman accepted Meggan's story and no charges were ever filed. It was all in self-defense.

Meggan eventually got over the attack with the help of therapy. She's gone through a lot. But nothing has kept her from her dream, to be a woman.

We finally had enough money to go into business ourselves. We bought a small restaurant that was going out of business for a dirt cheap price. We were hopeful that the business would bring in enough money to pay for the surgery. Since the surgery is deemed cosmetic, our insurance would not pay any part of the ten thousand dollar bill. Each month we would put a portion of our earnings into a special bank account exclusively for the surgery.

Business was slow at first, but when we hired a top notch cook, who had been trained in New York, word spread about the fine food and the restaurant was making money. All of this took about a year but it was worth the wait. Business became so good within two years that we had to start taking reservations for most of the dinner hours.

Finally after three years in business and eleven years after the beginning of hormone treatment, we had just enough money saved to afford Meggan's surgery. She had been making regular trips to her doctor so he could mark her progress. He made the arraignments at the hospital for Meggan's sex reassignment surgery. The operation would take place in one month.

Meggan was ecstatic. Finally after a long, long wait, it was finally going to happen.

 

. . . . To be continued . . .

 

 

 

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© 1990 by Meggan Sommers. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.