The Dance Of Changes - Part 20 (Patreon)

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'I'll just need to collect my suitcase from the back of the car.'

Richard seemed to pluck up the courage and leaned over to give me a farewell kiss on the cheek. He was clearly not an experienced or confident lover but was no doubt a sincere one. I looked into his eyes and couldn't stop myself from turning my head and raising my lips to meet his. Up to that point, I'd led a fairly sheltered life and had never had a girlfriend, and so this was the first time that I'd ever kissed anyone on the lips, with passion. It was a wonderful new feeling, and I was glad that I'd followed Helen's advice and renewed my lipstick just before we'd all left the club. Then I felt his tongue enter my mouth, and a shiver of pleasure went through my body. I closed my eyes so that I would have one less sense to worry about.

A host of different thoughts, feelings, and sensations flooded into my head simultaneously.' For heaven's sake, what is happening to me?' I asked myself.' What am I doing? Why do I feel so elated?' then,' Why don't you caress my thighs? These thoughts and many others came into my brain so quickly that I was unable to process them all.' How will Rich and I react to one another when we were working together?' 'What will Rob and Sarah think?' 'What is going to happen to us in January?' and then most fundamentally of all, Am I a man or a woman?' It was as if some elemental spirit or genie had taken over control of my mind as I moved closer and wanted my body to dissolve into his. I knew then that when the appropriate time came, I would not be able to stop myself from offering my body to him.

I had no idea how long we remained in that first awkward embrace in the front seats of the car. I had no idea what year or month, or day of the week it was, or whether it was night or day. In fact, I didn't even know what planet we were on. I was only concerned with the two of us together in the front seat of his car. It didn't matter that it was uncomfortable for us both; the only thing that mattered was that we were together in one another's arms. Eventually, though, we floated back down to earth as, apart from anything else, we had need of the atmosphere to breathe once again. My good sense began to re-assert control.

'I'd better go in now, that's Mum's bedroom up there, and I don't want to waken her,' I said.

He seemed disappointed but resigned to the night coming to an end. He got out of the car and handed me my suitcase. We stood facing one another for a moment.

'Goodnight, Michelle. I'll see you at work on Monday.'

'No stay, don't go; hold me and kiss me once again!'

'Goodnight, Rich, and thanks for everything.'

I waved goodbye as he drove off and then stood at our front door shivering while retrieving my keys in my handbag, wondering what I'd just done. I quietly let myself in our front door, put my case down in the hall, and took off my heels so that I wouldn't make any noise as I climbed the stairs to my bedroom.

'Is that you, Michelle?' came a voice from inside Mum's room.

'Yes, Mum, sorry if I woke you,' I replied.

Her bedroom door opened.

'That's alright; I've been awake for the last twenty-five minutes or so, in fact ever since the car drew up outside. I've been waiting for you to come in to ask whether you have a good time?'

'Yes, thanks,' I replied.

'I like the color of your new dress, but isn't it a bit short for this time of the year?' she asked.

'Oh Mum, I don't know what to do,' I said as I dissolved into tears.

'Whatever is the matter? What has happened?' she asked in some alarm.

'Nothing has happened; we had a good time. It's just that I don't know who I am anymore.'

Mum took me into her bedroom and invited me to sit down on the side of her bed. She sat next to me.

'Now, what is the trouble?'

'I just feel so confused about everything: about my work, about my dancing, about being Michelle.'

'Well, if it is upsetting you, must stop being Michelle. I know many people will be disappointed, but I'm sure they would understand if you explained.'

'But that's just the point, I don't want to stop being Michelle,' I said, sobbing.

'So, what is the problem?'

'I feel as if I am being sucked into a vortex and that both attracts me and frightens me at the same time.'

'Why should it frighten you?'

'Because I may never be able to get out again, and maybe I won't want ever to get out.'

'Would that matter if that's what you want?' she asked quietly.

'I just don't know, Mum. I'm so confused about everything. What do you think I should do?'

'Michelle, I've loved having you around these last few weeks, but it is unfair of me even to admit to that. I can't tell you how to live your life. What I can say, though, is that you will always be my child, and I will love and support you whatever you decide to do.' You are eighteen, and only you can know what you really want out of life or what is right for you.

'Thanks, Mum,' I said, beginning to dry my tears.

'Do you have to make an irrevocable decision about your future now?'

'I suppose not,' I replied, drying my eyes with a tissue that she'd handed to me.

'After all, you've only recently agreed to remain as Michelle at work until the end of the year, and then there are the various commitments you have made with Alan.'

'I wouldn't want to let everyone down.'

'That wouldn't matter if it was really making you unhappy.'

'But as I've just said, it isn't making me unhappy – I've been having a great time as Michelle.'

Mum sighed.

'I can't see what is the problem?' she repeated.

'I don't know. I just feel as if I ought to feel bad.'

Mum hugged me.

'Believe me, my dear, life's too short to feel guilty about things that make you happy and don't harm anyone else. When you get to my age, you will find that it is the things that you didn't do and the opportunities you didn't take that you regret most of all.'

'There is also this guy at work that I like, and I think he likes me.'

'Was he the one who just drove you home?'

'Yes, his name is Richard, he's the guy that has been filming us dancing together.'

'Has anything happened between the two of you?'

'We've only kissed, but I'm not sure that I would be able to stop myself from wanting to go further next time.'

'I see. Does he know about Michael?'

'Yes, we used to work together, although we never paid much attention to one another until I became Michelle.'

'Will your friendship affect your ability to do your job?'

'I don't think so, he is pretty professional in his approach to work, and we don't spend that much time working together, particularly as I now spend more of my time out of the office.'

'In that case, all I can do is to repeat what I said to you last week - be honest with one another. However, I do think you should use the next few weeks as an opportunity to learn more about yourself.'

'What do you mean?'

'From what I've seen, I suspect you may be transgender, which is a recognized psychological condition, and you may never again be happy living as Michael. However, I don't want to put ideas into your head. You must find out for yourself and perhaps seek professional advice or counseling. Over the next week or so, I think you should consider the possible implications of your remaining as Michelle after the New Year so that you are better able to make an informed decision about your future when the time comes.'

'Yes, thanks, Mum, I'll do that.'

'Now I think it's now time we both got some sleep. Maybe we can talk some more later.

That weekend in late October 2008 ultimately became something of a watershed in my life. It was not only the weekend in which I fully embraced the fun associated with being Michelle for the first time, but it was also the first occasion that I entertained the possibility of her remaining around for some time to come - possibly even forever. Fortunately, Alan and his partner were away for the whole weekend, so I was not expected to practice our tango. Instead, I spent a fair chunk of Sunday afternoon happily chatting to Helen on the phone, comparing notes about how we'd both got on the night before. I was relieved to discover that Joe had invited her to come down to London with him the following Saturday evening, so there would be no awkwardness that Richard and I would be going clubbing in Luton on our own. Helen did, however, say that she'd refused to leave for London until after she'd helped with the filming of our forthcoming demonstration.

After tea, I began to explore the resources of the Internet to see if I could find anything useful on the subject of transgenderism, and in no time at all, I found myself swamped in the material. I followed interesting sounding links from one site to another until I eventually lost track of time or where I'd been until Mum came up to my room to bring me a bedtime drink.

'You've been more than four hours on that computer, Michelle, don't you think you've done enough for one day.'

'My goodness, is that the time?' I replied. 'It's amazing just how much material there is on transgender. I had no idea.'

'What sort of information?'

'Everything imaginable: there are encyclopedia articles, news reports, sites offering medical, legal, social or even fashion advice, fiction sites, shopping sites, pornography. There are biographies, photographs, and even films on YouTube. I'd no idea that the subject was so complex and wide-ranging or that there were so many people affected. It is going to take me ages to go through it all.'

'Well, take your time – there's no hurry.'

Richard and I were both a little awkward with one another when we arrived for work on Monday morning. Neither of us wanted to make too much of our newfound friendship or let it interfere with our working relationship in any way. He just smiled and nodded to me when I came in and chose a quiet moment to have a word when Sarah and Rob were in the office, and Helen was on the phone.

'I tried to call you yesterday afternoon and evening, but your phone was always engaged,' he said quietly.

'Sorry, but I was chatting to Helen during the afternoon, and then Mum was talking on the phone to her sister during the evening,' I said. 'Thanks for Saturday night; I really enjoyed myself.'

'Me too. Are you still ok for next weekend?'

'I think so, but I suggest we make the arrangements next Saturday afternoon.'

'Ok,' he said, and we both carried on with our work, but I noticed Helen looking in my direction with a satisfied smile on her face.

After that, Richard and I maintained a normal working relationship, except perhaps there was extra warmth in his smile as he greeted me each morning or said goodbye at the end of the day.

In most other respects, it proved to be quite a normal week at work. I sold another house on Tuesday and so found myself to be coordinating three separate sales. I was beginning to get to know other people working in the property trade in our locality, usually over the telephone, but in a couple of instances in person when I delivered critical documents to their offices by hand or else they called into our office to discuss matters. It did occur to me that the more success that I enjoyed in this respect, the more difficulty I would have with ultimately extracting myself and returning to my previous role, but I put this to the back of my mind for the time being and concentrated on doing the best I could for the next few weeks.

The only slight issue at work was Sarah, who seemed to have lost her usual cheerfulness and optimism. I suppose it was inevitable as it was now more than a month since her accident, and she was clearly feeling the effects of her incapacitation. I suppose it was obvious to her that she was now taking a secondary role in the office and that the younger women were now performing the more interesting roles. She wasn't awkward or difficult to work with; she just seemed a little subdued compared to her normal positive self.

I also spent a fair amount of my free time in the evenings searching the Internet, identifying, downloading, organizing, and printing out information relating to transgenderism. I found what I read to be both fascinating and also worrying in equal measure. It was clear that large numbers of people (certainly many thousands) in Britain had successfully transitioned from one gender to another, often going on to lead happy and fulfilled lives in their new identities. Yet, at the same time, there were undoubted hurdles to be overcome – not least of which was accepted by their families and indeed by society as a whole. To some degree, their ultimate happiness depended on the successful assimilation of their new role, and the earlier that they'd made their transition, the better in this respect. The message I seemed to be getting was that attempting to deny such feelings in one's youth could lead to psychological problems, depression, or even suicide in middle age. This undoubtedly raised questions in my mind, but I told myself that the current exercise was purely one of collecting data – any decision about my future could wait until later, when I had the whole picture.

Alan and I went through our proposed Tango and Charleston routines once again at our usual meeting on Tuesday evening. We arranged to come a little early so we could go through our section first, all before the others arrived. It was clear that we'd both been practicing, so we were pretty happy with the result.

'Have you ever done any electronic dancing, Alan?' I asked as we were waiting for the other dancers.

'Yes, David and I used to go clubbing quite a lot when we were courting. In fact, we first met on the dance floor at a Rave.'

'What did you think of it?' I asked.

'Well, of course, it's quite different from ballroom, but we used to enjoy ourselves.'

'I went clubbing on Saturday night for the first time and was quite impressed. I was wondering whether it would be possible to devise some kind of more formal demonstration routine to show the older dancers that there is more to EDM dancing than just leaping about and waving your arms in the air.'

'I'd be happy to go along with that, but haven't we got enough on our plates with our current commitments up to mid-December?'

'Yes, I suppose you're right,' I replied sadly.

'But of course, there's always the New Years' Eve Ball, if you are interested. They sometimes include a couple of demonstrations during the interval.'

'I'll think about it,' I said.

By this time, the other dancers had arrived, and we soon discovered that everyone was quite happy with our plans and that we would not need a dress rehearsal on Friday, just a quick run-through together on Saturday morning. I was pretty pleased because I liked to devote the night before a demonstration to getting myself ready – washing my hair, de-fuzzing my legs and armpits, removing my breast forms, and checking that they were ok before Joan sticking them back on for me the following day.

I was a little surprised, though, when Rob arrived without his wife. It was the first time that I was aware that Sarah had ever failed to turn up to one of our weekly meetings, and she'd always taken an active role in preparation for the demonstrations despite her leg being in plaster.

'Is Sarah ok?' I asked Rob, remembering that she'd seemed especially low in the office that afternoon.

'She had a headache and has decided not to come tonight. She said that we all appeared to have the arrangements for the next demonstration well in hand, and she wouldn't be missed.'

'Well, that's not true; I was hoping to discuss my plans for the Jive and the Jitterbug with her,' I replied.