-Chapter 8: A New Normal-

"Get up!"

Anna stood over me, repeatedly prodding me.

"Five more minutes…"

"No! Up!"

She pulled off the covers, and I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow.

"I don' wanna…!"

"Sophie! Get! Up!"

I was not a morning person.

"Fuck ooooooff…!"

"That's it!"

She suddenly jumped on me, straddling me and pinning me to the bed as she began ferociously tickling my sides. I laughed and yelled, but my cries for her to stop fell on deaf ears. She continued, unabated, for a full minute and a half of relentless giggle inducing torture. When she finished, she kept me pinned, looking down on me with an expression of smug triumph. I was gasping and trying to catch my breath, peering up at my merciless tormentor.

"You up now?"

"Yeah… I'm fuckin' awake, thank you very much…!"

"You're welcome!" she replied enthusiastically, finally getting off me. "Now get out of bed; I made us breakfast!"

"'Kaaaaaay…"

I sat up, slowly rising out of bed with a yawn. I stretched my arms over my head as I followed Anna into the kitchen, where she had laid out two plates of scrambled eggs and toast on the breakfast bar. Seeing as she had also brewed a pot of coffee, I poured us both a mug. Anna took hers black, whereas mine was drowned in cream and sugar. I feel like, as a barista, I was supposed to be the purist, but I wasn't about to pretend to like something I didn't just to maintain appearances. I'd had that phase early in high school. Wasn't worth it.

By now, it was about 9:00 in the morning. Anna had woken up and taken a shower before getting the food ready. She was perfectly presentable, whereas I looked disheveled, but my appearance was a '30 minutes from now,' problem. As we ate, we went over the day's docket. All we really had planned was going back by the hospital to get my name change and legal registration done. I wasn't scheduled to come in until 12:30, so that was still a ways off. Before we went, Anna said she wanted to teach me how to put on makeup, and I told her I'd gladly accept the offer, seeing as though I had exactly zero experience in that area. After that, we didn't have anything planned, which sounded like a great plan to me. We'd been going nonstop for the last day and a half, and I was eager to take a break.

Breakfast was enjoyable. The food tasted good, the caffeine helped me wake up, and Anna teased me about my bedhead. All was right in the world. We chatted idly for a bit as I nursed my coffee. I, once again, offered to do the dishes, since Anna handled the cooking, and she let me. I was kind of envious. I'd always wanted to be more of an early riser. I loved getting to watch the sunrise in the summer months, and getting a headstart on the day always felt nice. But, alas, I was a habitual night owl. Evidently, I'd been like that even before I was born; my mother saying I'd start kicking around inside her around 3:00 in the morning (which sounded like it would have been very unpleasant for her, but she would always just laugh about it.) So, when I got to see the sunrise, it was usually because I hadn't slept the night before. And, yes, trying to get up at 4:30 in the morning for work was almost always torture for me. There were plenty of times I would just stay up all night before going in. But, today, despite my typically poor sleep patterns, and the struggle I'd had with Anna this morning, I couldn't remember the last time I'd woken up feeling so refreshed. I'd have to remember to thank Winston again.

After rinsing the plates and scrubbing the pans, I made for the shower. Following yesterday's failed experiment, I really didn't feel like any 'me-time,' and I cleaned myself off quickly. Throwing my sleepwear back on, I opened the door and was met by Anna's eager grin. I was worried she had some kind of prank in store for me, given her expression and how much she seemed to enjoy teasing me of late. I was relieved when she said she just wanted to help with my makeup, holding up a plastic bag full of the cosmetics she'd bought yesterday. She walked me back into the bathroom, and while I didn't share her inexplicable enthusiasm for this impending beauty lesson, I was ready to learn, and grateful to have such a willing teacher. She laid out the collection of products, and… it was a lot. She's gotten eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, foundation, lipstick, lip gloss, and nail polish, all in a variety of colors. I stared at the army of cosmetics currently poised to invade my life, and felt decidedly overwhelmed.

"Uhhm, Anna…? Isn't this a bit much?"

"Hmmmm…" she mumbled, resting her chin on her knuckles, unintentionally mimicking Dante as The Thinker;

"Yeah. Yeah, it's too much. I just wanted to make sure we had all your bases covered, but… I miiiiiight have overdone it, just a smidge. So, let's start small. Besides, you never struck me as the type who likes women who wear too much makeup, am I right?"

"Yeah. I've always felt like makeup should enhance your features, not replace them."

"Great minds think alike!" she announced, clapping her hands together. She sifted through the assortment, picking out a few items; "There! Eyeliner, eyeshadow, and lipstick! That'll do for now, right?"

"Looks good to me," I replied. 

I appreciated her selection. The lipstick was a soft pink, not too far off my natural color, and the dark eyeshadow would be good for some subtle smokey eye. I'd always had pretty thick lashes, so I didn't see much point in overdoing them with mascara, and my skin looked fine to me; no blemishes and not oily or anything, so foundation seemed like overkill. Putting on the lipstick was easy enough. It's not like I'd never worn chapstick before. The only difference was that it actually mattered how much I put on, and where it went, but I managed to get it right, first try, which felt gratifying in its own way. 

The eyeliner was a bit trickier for me. Anna had gotten liquid liner, but said I should start with pencil. That wasn't a problem, but rather the fact that I'd had an aversion to any objects getting near my eyes ever since I was a kid. Even the visual of something moving directly toward my eye, regardless of actual distance, was enough to make me automatically recoil. So we went slowly. Anna demonstrated for me, and I studied her movements. I took a deep breath, and tried to copy her. I struggled to keep my eyes open, slowly tracing along the rim of my eyelashes. I had to stop every few seconds to blink, but, gradually, I got my left eye done. With some effort, I repeated the process on my right eye, breathing a sigh of relief when I finally finished. Anna gave me a gentle pat on the back, promising that it would get easier with time. Fortunately for me, the eye shadow was a lot easier, just brushing it lightly over the eyelid, being careful to put on just the right amount in the right places. Once again, I followed Anna's example as best I could. The hardest part was keeping my other eye open as I did it, but it went on without issue.

When all was said and done, I took a look at my whole face in the mirror, and I was shocked. It wasn't like I had a new face or anything (relatively speaking,) but I was surprised just how much difference a little makeup had made. My eyes looked somehow fuller, the whites of my sclera contrasted with the darkness of the eyeliner. They drew more attention, and, since I'd always felt like my eyes were one of my best features, that alone did a lot to enhance my look. The pink gradient of the lipstick made my lips look softer and more… I don't know, inviting, I guess? The color being so close to my natural shade made it so my lips didn't look out of place or overly eye-catching. It just made them look a bit more appealing. Overall, it was the kind of look I would have seen as 'effortlessly beautiful,' if I'd seen it on someone else. Mind you, there was effort put into it, obviously, but I looked amazing. I realize how narcissistic I sound right now, but, like I said before, I'd never liked the way I looked before, so seeing myself like that, and feeling pretty… It was nice. It was really nice.

"Wow," I said quietly, still mesmerized by my reflection. "If I was a six before, I feel like at least a seven right now."

"Girl, don't sell yourself short!" Anna said, playfully shoving my shoulder. "You're a straight-up ten, easily!"

I looked at her with a light chuckle;

"Hmhm~ That means a lot, coming from a dime like you!"

I'd always thought Anna was pretty. I don't care what anyone else thinks, she's a ten in my book, every time. Before, I probably would have gotten embarrassed and dismissed her compliment, but, fuck it! I felt good and I was gonna say the first thing that popped into my head. And she was clearly not expecting that response. She blinked a couple times, and I swear I could see her starting to blush. She regained her composure after a second and grinned;

"Damn! Point for Sophie!"

"Hehehe!"

I couldn't help but laugh. Maybe it was because I was with her; maybe it was me, or the makeup; but I couldn't remember the last time I'd ever felt so comfortable and confident. It felt fantastic. 

We still had about an hour and a half before we'd have to go do my paperwork, so we spent most of that time relaxing and chatting in the living room. I've always been a fairly quiet person, and it's not like Anna's the type to chat your ear off, but, I swear, when we were together we could just talk for hours on end. And we talked about all kinds of things; we shared stories, discussed our favorite books, movies, video games, and so on, had debates, and, as I'm sure you've noticed by now, poked a good deal of fun at one another. It was just so easy for me to talk to her. Honestly, I think just spending time chatting with her like that is one of my absolute favorite things to do.

The hospital wasn't too far from Anna's apartment, so we wouldn't have to leave too early. At about 12:00, we went to get dressed. I took my clothes into the bathroom while Anna changed in her bedroom. The usual Washington layer of clouds had rolled in, painting the sky a light gray and lowering the temperature a little bit. Opting to dress slightly warmer, I put on a t-shirt with an open red flannel shirt over top, a pair of black shorts, and some tennis shoes. I'd liked punk music for a while, and I liked to vaguely dress the part, despite my being about as intimidating as a kitten. Anna had opted for a slightly oversized hoodie and shorts with sneakers. After briefly exchanging compliments on each other's outfits, we spent a few more minutes hanging around before we left at a quarter past noon.

Traffic was light, and the drive only took a few minutes. As we walked into the hospital, I remembered, much to my displeasure, the state I was in the last time I entered. It was hard for me to believe that had happened just a day and a half ago. It felt like a lifetime, and, in a sense, it had been. But, I awoke from my daydreaming as we went to check in. I realized that that would be the last time I ever used the name 'James Fuller.' As we took our seats in the waiting room, I didn't know how to feel about that. On one level, it felt like I was losing a part of myself. Like, the person I had lived my life as for the last 22 and a half years was going to cease to be. And yet, on another level, I was almost relieved. I was letting go of something that was, at this point, holding me back. My old name was an obstacle between myself and my new life. In a sense, it felt like I was taking another step toward accepting the new me.

A few minutes later, we were called back by a young doctor. This man, I soon learned, was to become my new primary care physician. His name was Dr. Barry. He appeared to be in his early thirties, and was well dressed. He specialized in working with transgender patients, and, given my unusual circumstances and the overlap they created, I was assigned to his care. He came across as personable and considerate, and left a good first impression on me. It wasn't like I was particularly close with my old doctor, and Dr. Hastings had the bedside manner of Nurse Ratched. Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration, but he was definitely a 'business first, feelings second' kind of guy, and I'd never really vibed too well with that sort of attitude, at least with regard to medicine. We talked for a bit, and he agreed to fill my medications. He also offered some resources to help with my ongoing transition, which I was grateful for.

After we'd finished our discussion, he had a nurse lead me to another room to fill out my paperwork. It looked like I'd been put in some kind of office. It's not like this was something they had to deal with often, obviously. Fortunately for me, even though there had only been one SIS case in Washington before mine, the state considered it a public health issue, which greatly facilitated the whole legal side of the process. So, with everything conveniently set up, I sat down at the table and got to work filling in the requisite forms. After what felt like hours of reading and signing (though, it realistically only took about 15 minutes at the most,) I'd finally finished. The last person I met with was a representative of the DMV, who'd come to help get me a new license. I was glad they'd come, because god knows I didn't want to spend my whole afternoon sitting in the DMV. 

I was stood in front of a blank white wall, and did my best to smile as naturally as possible for the camera. This was followed by two retakes, as everyone knows it's scientifically impossible to take a good headshot on the first try. A minute later, they printed my license off, and handed it to me. I was given a link to a website I could use to transfer my email addresses and the forms were taken to be sent off to the various institutions that required them. I shook hands with the doctor again on the way out, and left the hospital with Anna, again. Finally, it was official. From that day forward, the world would know me as "Sophie Dawn Fuller."

As we walked through the parking lot and neared her parked car, Anna suddenly grabbed my wrist;

"Hey, come here a sec!"

"Huh?"

She quickly pulled me in and gave me a hug;

"You did it! You're officially the new you! How's it feel?"

I returned her embrace and answered;

"I don't know. It's weird. I guess I thought it would have been harder for me than it was. I mean, I know I just signed some forms and stuff, but still. I guess I'm just glad it's done."

We let each other go, and kept walking toward her car as she replied.

"Well, I think it's a big deal, and I feel like we should celebrate!" she announced as we sat down. "So, I think you deserve to choose; do you wanna go grab drinks, or ice cream?"

I couldn't help but smile at her thoughtful gesture;

"That's really sweet of you! And, uh, I don't know. I'm not really a day drinker, so I guess ice cream?"

"Look at you!" she said, teasingly patting me on the head, "Such a responsible girl!"

I waved her hand away;

"You would have called me a lush if I'd said drinks, right?"

"Yeah, something like that!" she answered with a playful grin.

"You're impossible…"

So, a short drive and a bit more teasing later, we pulled up to a local ice cream place we used to stop by after school every now and then. There was something nostalgic about being there with her. It brought me back to those simpler times, before my life had become so needlessly complicated, and I'd spiralled into such a deep depression. But, now, despite the circumstances, I wasn't depressed anymore; at least not like I had been just a few days ago. I felt as light and happy as I did back when we were teenagers. And, I was having a good time. We sat together, enjoying frozen treats and watching the cars drive by, people go about their days, and animals scurry about. It helped put the craziness of the last few days out of my mind. We were just a couple of young women having a day out. I hadn't been a woman this time two days ago, but right now, that didn't really matter, did it?

The rest of the afternoon was just as enjoyable and laid back. When we were done eating, we went back to Anna's apartment and just spent the rest of the day hanging out. We laughed at a terrible B horror movie, and shouted at each other playing a brawler video game, and talked. We talked about music, food, and what series we'd been watching lately. We talked about culture and philosophy. There were a few new topics thrown into our conversations, too. There was talk about clothes and makeup, and at one point, Anna suggested we do some 'girl stuff.' When I asked her what 'girl stuff' she had in mind, she suggested we paint our nails. So, I went along with her, and, you know what? I had a good time. She painted my nails first, a flat shade of black, and I did hers after, mimicking her motions as she painted mine. 

I joked about us matching, but she said that it was a perfectly normal thing girls did with good friends. And, that ended up making me feel good, too. It felt strangely intimate. Not in a sexual way (since people tend to associate that term with romance,) but more in a friendly sense. It was like a reminder of how close we were. And, honestly, the whole process felt perfectly natural to me. Like, yeah, I was a woman, and painting each other's nails was a thing some women did with their friends, and Anna and I were friends, so it just made sense, right? Just a couple of girls bonding. I had sort of realized that seeing myself as a woman was getting easier by the hour, and I couldn't understand why that was, nor could I bring myself to care why. I was having a good time with my best friend. What was there to worry about?

Around 5:00 we decided to order pizza, and Anna gave me shit for liking pineapple on my pizza, and I gave her shit for failing to appreciate culinary variety. Good times. We ate, and talked, and poked fun at each other, and laughed together throughout the evening until about 8:00. Since Anna was gonna be getting up so early to drive back to Oregon, we figured it would be better if I went home tonight so we could both rest up and handle our respective businesses tomorrow. We kept chatting on the car ride back to my house. As I got out of the car, grabbing the stuff I had brought to her place, she jumped out and ran over to me. Before I could even get a word in, she threw herself around me and hugged me tight, her voice muffled as she buried her head in my shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss you, Sophie…"

I chuckled quietly, returning the hug and patting the back of her head.

"You're only gonna be gone a day, right?"

"Yeah, but…" she whimpered. She pulled back and put her hands on my shoulders; "Are you gonna be okay?"

I would have thought she was being intentionally patronizing were it not for the look of genuine concern on her face.

"Hmhm~ Yes, Anna. I'm a big girl. I'll manage for a day."

She let go of me, looking down, embarrassed;

"I'm sorry… I know I'm worrying too much."

I shook my head;

"No, it's fine. I appreciate your concern, honestly. And, hey, I'm worried about you too. Have a safe drive, okay?"

She smiled somewhat sheepishly as she answered;

"I will, thanks. And text me to let me know how your talk with your mom goes, okay?"

"Will do!"

She walked back to the driver's side of her car, stopping as she opened the door;

"Maybe we can get together Tuesday?"

"I'll count the moments until then."

"You'd better!" she demanded, finally getting in her car. We waved at each other as she pulled off, leaving the neighborhood.

I let out a quiet sigh after she'd left. This was the first time I'd been alone since everything went down. I noticed, as I headed into my house, that my car was still parked in the street where I'd left it Friday night. God, I didn't want to think about Friday night. Of course, I'd be reminded immediately when I went back into my house, as my dirty clothes were still in a pile on my bedroom floor. Dirty clothes that I'd probably never wear again, I noted. I threw them into my hamper and opened up my closet. What was I even gonna do with all these clothes? None of them fit me anymore. I might keep a couple t-shirts and jackets I thought might look cute on me if I went for that oversized top look. Cute. That was the aesthetic I was mostly going to go for with my new wardrobe (today's outfit notwithstanding.)  What the hell was my aesthetic as a guy, even? Looking through my closet, there really wasn't any rhyme or reason. I'd more or less stopped caring about the way I dressed when I started college.

Supposedly, dressing nicely can make you feel better about yourself. Back then, it wasn't worth the effort. I hated myself and my body, so what was the point? It'd be like putting makeup on a toad (No offense to toads, they can be pretty if they want.) But now? Fuck that noise. I liked the way I looked, and I was gonna like the way I dressed too. I don't care if it was extra effort, it was more than worth it to me. Just thinking about that gave me a renewed burst of confidence.

I took some of my old clothes off their hangers and threw them in the corner, replacing them with the stuff Anna had so kindly gotten me. Eventually, I'd go through my old stuff and pick out what little I wanted to keep. After that; the community clothing bank would be receiving a very large donation from yours truly, and I would have to start saving spare money to fill out my wardrobe. The task was daunting, but, admittedly, exciting. But, regardless, that was a future Sophie job. For now, I'd put my stuff away, and I figured it'd be a good idea to get ready for bed. So, I took off my current ensemble and slipped into my oh-so-comfortable pajamas. Anna was right; they were totally a worthwhile purchase. 

Heading to the bathroom, I flossed and brushed my teeth, going through the usual nightly ritual. It was weird seeing the new me in the mirror of my own bathroom, but I'd get used to it soon enough. When I was done, I went to the kitchen to grab myself some water, and headed to my bedroom to settle in for the night. I didn't feel all that tired, and it was only a couple minutes past 9:00, so I figured I'd play some video games for a couple hours before heading to bed. Before that, however, I thought it'd be a good idea to message Lisa. I was feeling fine, and I figured I might as well go into work (plus, it's not like those clothes I wanted were gonna pay for themselves.) The shift I would have been working tomorrow was from 8:00 to 3:00, and I felt like I could handle that. I texted Lisa, and heard back in a couple minutes; she was surprised I wanted to come in, and asked if I was doing okay. I assured her I was fine, and she told me I could come to work if I really felt up to it.

With that out of the way, I sat myself in front of my TV and booted up my game console. I decided to play a RPG I'd gotten recently and had been playing some throughout the last week. It was some Tolkien derivative fantasy game that'd come out a couple years ago and I'd picked up on sale. I started to play, tuning out the outside world and losing myself in the setting, when something occurred to me; I'd made my character a girl. It's not like this was a surprise (I had picked out her design after all,) but I hadn't really given much thought as to why I'd picked a female character. Thinking back to other games I'd played in the past, I suddenly became aware of a trend. Whenever I played an online game, where I'd be playing with friends and not paying any real attention to the story, I would make a male character. But, whenever I'd play a single-player game with a focus on the narrative, I'd always make my character a woman.

I found myself questioning why that was. In the past, I'd just told myself that plenty of guys did that, and that if I had to stare at a character's butt for 20-100+ hours, I'd rather it be a girl's than a guy's. Sure, I'd seen enough comments on forums from guys who said they played as girls in games, and, sure, I did prefer girl butt, yet neither of those answers felt right all of a sudden. I mean, I was a woman now, so playing as one should have been even for me easier to accept, not harder. But I suddenly found myself hung up on it. Why had I preferred playing as girls for so long? When did I even start doing that? I remembered as a kid, I'd just play as guys because I was a boy and that made sense to me. I don't know when the switch occurred. I'd always just sort of put it out of my mind in the past, but now I couldn't understand why playing as a female had started appealing to me back then. It felt like there was more to it than polygonal butts.

I stopped and took a look at my character, and, I noticed, somewhat unsettlingly, that she vaguely looked like me. I'd made her an elf (what kind of person plays as a human in those kinds of games? I mean, seriously,) so the proportions were all a bit off. She was a lot taller and thinner than me. Her features were finer, her skin a bit more pale, and, obviously, I didn't have pointed ears, but everything else was roughly on point. Her eyes were almost the same size and shape as mine, with the color being a total match. Her nose was a touch longer than mine, but about the same shape. Her mouth was more or less the same size as mine, with her lips being the same thickness. And her hair, despite being a few shades lighter in color, was roughly styled the same as mine was now. If you'd asked someone who'd seen me in passing to describe what I would look like as an elf, there's a good chance they'd paint a picture of my current avatar. I mean, you wouldn't ask them to do that, and they'd probably call you crazy if you did, but you get my point.

I racked my brain trying to figure out why I had always done this. Why would I make my character look like myself as a girl? It's not like I'd wanted to be a woman before, so why did I always want to play as one in video games? I thought long and hard about it, but I couldn't come up with an answer. So, I tried to put it out of my mind and play the game like normal. But, every time I'd enter into a dialogue tree and decide what I wanted my character to say, I'd be brought right back to my questions. I was role playing as a woman. I'd been making decisions and living out fictional lives as women. Sure, maybe the differences in the games' stories and gameplay based on your character's gender were usually only skin deep, but I'd been doing it all the same. And I'd been doing it for years. Why? What force, or feelings, or desires had led me to do that over and over and over long before I'd actually become a woman? I couldn't understand it.

That nagging question kept pulling my attention away from the game, so, after about an hour and a half, I just quit and decided to go to bed. I was tired enough, and that was something I could worry about another time. So, I set my alarm, turned off the lights, and hopped into bed. As I laid down, I noticed another little difference from when I'd been a guy. Last night I was too tired to really pay attention, and I'd just automatically slept on my side. At first I laid flat on my stomach, like I usually did. I know that's supposedly the worst way to sleep, but I always had a hard time falling asleep on my back, and resting on my side always ended up smothering the family jewels. If it's never happened to you, trust me it sucks. I'd heard of other guys putting pillows between their thighs to alleviate this problem, but I couldn't be bothered. So, I just slept on my stomach. Except, now, that made my boobs uncomfortable. So, I rolled onto my side, and, with a lack of sensitive bits hanging down from my groin, there wasn't any issue. So, that was probably an improvement, to be honest.

I also noticed that I really wanted something to hold onto. Last night, I slept like a baby. Winston really did work wonders. I'd have to get myself a stuffed animal or a body pillow or something. I'd always slept with stuffed animals when I was a kid, but around the time I was thirteen or fourteen, I stopped. Because, you know, guys aren't supposed to do that or whatever. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until I had that wonderful little sheep in my arms. I needed to fix this asap. I am a grown ass woman, and I will sleep with a stuffed animal, and I am not sorry.