Do You Think I Should Start Charging??
Oh come now… get your mind out of the gutter. (Ok, I realize being in the gutter is awfully fun, but for now, pull it out!)
I was talking about relationship advice. Or advice in general. See, I’m beginning to think I missed my calling. I should have been a psychiatrist or therapist. Even my counselor thinks I’ve missed my calling. He says I’m damn good. Hmmm. That’s sweet, don’t ya think? Well, either that or a stand-up comedienne. Allow me to clarify.
One of my male friends called me to talk to me about his girl problems. I get these calls from him from time to time. He is such a sweetheart… we have so much in common, and I consider him the little brother I never had. (He’s four years my junior) So, my “kid brother” needed some advice from his “big sis”.
Actually, I’m quite flattered. My “kid brother” is one gorgeous piece of man. He also has quite the reputation as a ladies man. Ok, some people think of him as a “ho”. But that simply isn’t true. If people ONLY knew!! I think it’s just rumors spread by jealous people. It’s just that he has so much going for him… looks, education, family ties (here a BIG thing!), money… and oodles and oodles of CHARM. He oozes charm. He is a true gentleman. His situation reminds me of the stories I have read about “The Season” that used to be held in England up until about a hundred years or so ago. (I mean for all I know it still goes on… but not with the same finesses as in days gone by.) The Season was an occasion that Society would pamper, preen, and parade their sacrifices-ahem!- I meant to say their daughters of marriageable age before the eligible men of the Haute Ton. Its affectionate nickname was “the Marriage Mart”. Prime Male Real Estate would be such a man as my “Kid Brother.” The ambitious mama’s trying to shove their daughters in front of these men to try and gain their notice and hopefully make an advantageous match. Anyhoo… there is one slight problem. He can be such a dork when the relationship is going well, the chickenshit.
So he calls me for advice. We talk for about, oh, 30- 45 minutes. And this makes me experience a hidden memory….
The first night I met Z, he was …well, talking about his relationship that just ended. Blah blah blah. The whole damn night. Endlessly. All the while checking ME out.
That week had been MY week. I had a record five male friends coming to me looking for relationship advice. Five of them came to me. God alone knows how many times each, asking for advice on how they had managed to forget EVERYTHING I had EVER told them previously.(I guess I’m the voice of reason to them? I dunno.) Anyway, so here I sat, the first night I met my friend C’s (my male friend) from college’s brother, listening to his relationship’s downward spiral, wondering to myself, “What IS it about me that makes people confide in me?”
Don’t get me wrong, please! I must admit that I like it that people feel they can confide in me. That something, whatever it is, about me makes people, men or women trust me with their confidences and that they know or sense and trust my advice or opinion. That is really wow, ya know? I’m honored, actually. And if someone tells me to keep it a secret, I will, guaranteed.
Which is a nice segway into the next part of my post.
I, for once, find myself in a bit of a quandary on how to begin, on how to start to broach a subject that is rather sensitive. I’m open to any suggestions you all might have.
I mentioned earlier how I met my husband. His baby brother (who is almost 3 yrs younger than Z) and I were friends in college. I knew “C” for about 8 months before I ever met his brother. C and I had some classes together and were, are, great buddies. If it wasn’t for C, I wouldn’t have my daughter. Ok, granted, I also wouldn’t be the wreck that I am today, but still.
C and I get along so great. What is great, is that we can just sit and laugh like hell together….for HOURS Even when it comes to disciplining Arianna, C has always backed me up, supported me, more so than his brother, my husband, ever has. He has felt I was in the right, when my hubby and MIL were interfering, he would help me put my foot down. We have a great relationship, always have. I don’t remember us either exchanging negative words or angry with each other. If we were angry, we’d just kind of stay out of each other’s way till we got over our respective huffs.
Some of you may wonder why I didn’t end up with that brother instead, if we clicked so well. Well darlings, the fact is, C is gay. I’ve known this, sensed it, way before he ever admitted it to me. And he was NOT some effeminate flaming gay either. A more manly man – and gorgeously exotic- you’d never guess that he was gay! Beautifully chiseled features like a statue…. Great bone structure, square masculine face, high cheekbones, luscious full lips, and strong brow. Great blinding smile and an infectious laugh. His mother, and 3 of his 6 siblings DID NOT KNOW HE WAS GAY. STILL DON”T, in fact. Well, monster knows NOW. Like as recently as a month ago.
When I got married, we lived together with C and their monster, erm mother. We lived together for a few years before he moved off by himself to New York to pursue his career. Ok, enough with the background.
My quandary. Well, C, after some long, hard soul searching came to a conclusion that he was just not satisfied living his life as a gay man. In the whole gay scene. He was sort of in limbo. This was about 2 years ago, I suppose, maybe a little less. He did the whole psychological evaluation in two different countries… USA and Iran. (Just to keep things orderly and cover his ass, pardon the pun) Both came up with the same conclusion HE had come up with.
He is a heterosexual woman trapped in a man’s body.
So therefore, he eventually began taking hormone replacement therapy, and the steps required at the beginning of the transition from male to female. Yeah, that’s right, he is in the process of becoming a she. (Yes, Costrina, this is who you think it is.)
First time he visited after starting the hormones (didn’t tell anyone about it, BTW), I noticed, when we were swimming, that his chest was completely different. Before he always had amazing Man Pecs. Now, they were completely different shape and, well, bigger a bit. I noticed, he had a slight flaring of hips also. Nothing real obvious, but it was there. (Oi! Look, I’m just real observant. Honest. I notice EVERYTHING and store it away like a squirrel stores nuts for winter. A friend of mine said I have a mind like a steel trap!) So. Next trip, two months later, I really noticed some differences, and he confided in me when I mentioned my observations to him what he was up to. It was a relief, believe me, for him to tell SOMEONE. He didn’t tell my husband, his brother, which they are so close and always have been. He told me. ME! Wow. Dayum.
It became my duty to tell my husband. To break the news, because frankly, C was scared of his reaction. Not that Z is the Macho man older brother or anything. That is the Firstborn and oldest brother. He is a wackadoo. Nice, but… a wackadoo. Anyhow. Later, after C left, I got around to telling Z. This is how I did it.
“honey, you know how you always said you wished you had a little sister?” he said “yeah” I said, “um, well, sometimes, you should be careful what you wish for, cause your wish has been granted.”. He looked at me and then I said “C is and has been taking medications for some time now, female hormones, and has decided to change his gender to be a woman. He is happy and at peace with his decision”.
Now, Transexuals, (what C is) is totally different from Transvestites and Drag Queens. Ok? Transvestites and Drag Queens want to look like women and live as women, but never actually BECOME women. They are gay men that like to look like women. Transexuals were born the wrong sex. Even when C did blood hormone work, he had more female hormones before starting hormone therapy than he should have. Mentally, he was a hetero female. Got that? Good. Now then…….
My Fucking quandary now? Apparently, I did such a good job with my husband, and fixing the botch up job that my husband did telling their mother last month, that C has asked me to break it to the two sisters here. OH Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!!
Ok. I’m flattered that “she” (referred to from now on as she or Shayda, her new name when she is done, cause, well, everyone calls her “ma’am” now and “Miss”) trusts ME to break this news to her family. Really. But this is where it gets interesting.
See, there are a few, itsy bitsy snags. I told her sure, I’d do it when she’s done her gender reassignment surgery (translation: when she has removed some of her male equipment and turned the rest into FEMALE equipment) ie: when it’s too late for her family to bitch and nag and do anything about it. NOW she has decided she wants them to know now, before, cause she plans to hopefully get it done in the next 6 months or so. They are nagging for her to visit here, and she won’t come again. She wants them to understand why, I guess, which IS fair.
Regarding those “snags”. The elder of the two sisters, apparently is aware that Shayda is gay, she THINKS. This sister, “S” is also quite intelligent and now that she is older, more open-minded. She is also well traveled and wise. (she is also not a DAMN thing like her mother and is proud to say it.) I don’t honestly foresee a problem with this one. I can talk frankly and openly with her to some degree. She won’t like it probably, but I don’t think she will go apeshit and lose her mind.
I wish I could say as much for her younger sister. Younger sister, ‘N’ is exactly 1 year younger than “S”. N is 10 years older than my husband. She is also extremely narrow minded, ridiculously so, not very “quick”, stubborn, self-centered, and, well, a more friendly version of her MOTHER. Yup, Monster’s mini-me. N is a ball of laughs though, usually. She also has severe panic disorder. One more thing. She is EXTREMELY HOMOPHOBIC. (are you beginning to see my problem now?) I mean, she HATES and doesn’t understand this at all. (To give you an idea: when she heard Z wanted to marry me, she was against it, cause she thought all western women were whores and slutty, like what she sees on tv and what she has heard.. I didn’t say that, I’m just repeating what I was told. Ok? People that don’t know, judge our country by shows like Jerry Springer, Rikki Lake, etc... and Melrose Place and those kind of things, understand? They just don’t know better. Just like a lot of Westerners think all Arabs live in the desert in tents and ride camels, while in fact, they drive Huge Mercedes’, BMW’s, Hummers, Rolls Royce’s, Jags, Ferrari’s, etc… and live in HUGE freaking OPULENT mansions with servants up the ying-yang! See what I mean?)
About N. One other little problem. Due to the fact that in her eyes, her mother is next to God and is never wrong, she believes every little lie she hears about me, and, well, needless to say, hasn’t spoken or even LOOKED at me for a year now. You know why? Cause the first day of school, (her daughter goes to Ari’s school too) she had agreed to pick Ari up from school (we live in the same compound also), but no one had bothered to tell me. I thought Z would get Ari from school that day. Needless to say, I got a call from the school nurse teling me that she was feeling very ill, and nauseous and to come get Ari from school. I went and told this to my then new boss, and he let me go. On my way, I called Z, and told him I was going to get her and take her to the Doc. He said nothing). He also didn’t call his sister to tell her that Ari was already gone home early cause she was sick, apparently. By the time I finally got Ari home, I had just sat down, exhausted, N called me SCREAMING. I was confused. Why didn’t anyone tell her Ari wasn’t there, she had been waiting in the parking lot for 15 minutes, etc.. Shriek, shriek, scream. Me, confused. I tossed the phone at Z after talking to her didn’t work. Apparently this all became my fault. Great. Since then, no talkie, no lookie. This is the woman that when her foot was broken and she was HOUSERIDDEN, I would go over every day and keep her company, entertain her, make her laugh, dance for her, and bring her special treats. When I went on vacation, I brought her a shitload of gifts. I kept thinking about her stuck in her damn chair with that cast, with her leg elevated while I was on vacation, and would find myself buying things for her that I thought would cheer her up.
N has no idea that Shayda is gay. How the HELL am I gonna tell her, when she isn’t talking to me, that her brother will shortly become her sister?
Ideally, I want to get them together and spring it on them at once. Get it over with. Shayda wants them to know… like NOW.
How the hell do I tell N that her brother, her baby brother is the very thing that she loathes, despises and doesn’t understand?? That it is too late to turn back now, even if Shayda wanted to, which she doesn’t.
Shayda told me that if they cannot accept this change, then she is ready to cut them out of her life, and to make sure they know it. She also knows, since I have told her, that no matter where I live, wherever my home is, she will always be welcome in it. She knew it without me saying.
How do I tell both sisters that the person is the same, just the packaging is different? (Other than saying just that?)
Somebody help me! (Sooner, rather than later, please!) I’m really open to suggestions. And I will answer whatever question may be in your mind too. I might have to do this tomorrow night. Or Friday.
I just know N is going to freak out on my ass. I just know, KNOW it. Ugh. I’m SO not in the mood for her shit, either.
Hell, I DEFINETLY need to start charging.