The Bridesmaid Pt. 04

I'm sorry for the long delays in adding to some of my stories. Partly this is because some are based on truth, and some because I simply don't have the time. When I wrote Part 3, I thought it was the final part. Perhaps you did too. But as it turns out, it wasn't.

If this chapter is shorter than some prefer, I'm sorry. Also, if it's just sex that you want to read about, then this chapter probably isn't for you either. Really sorry. Any feedback is always welcome.

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After the long weekend as bridesmaid, and spending some amazing time with Charlotte, I arrived back at my office, where I kept all of Georgia's things. As I unlocked the door, an overwhelming feeling of depression swept over me. I unpacked my bags and sorted dirty washing into a laundry bag, as usual.

I realised that I had two choices. Simple. To carry on as I always had, hiding, skulking around in secret, pretending to be someone else. A normal guy. Or to make a life changing decision to be someone completely different. A woman. Me. Georgia.

The former would be simple. Not really requiring a decision at all. Everyone would be happy. It wouldn't affect anyone, except me. Surely the best option.

The only other option on the table was, frankly, frightening, and entirely the reason that I had never decided to come out, over several decades. I reasoned that work would not be a problem. I run my own business and most of my existing clients are slightly unorthodox already. Most would probably be OK with it. I was fairly sure of that, until I wasn't, and then I was.

My partner and family were something altogether different. Whilst I lived with my partner, it was more for convenience. We had divorced previously and spent many years apart, allowing Georgia to have her own place, with her stuff around her. We got together again, but to be honest, I can't remember the logic. For the sake of the family I think. It worked for a while, but now we are just two friends living in a house together, and we get on fine, although we sleep in separate rooms, and there is no sex. I have always been fairly sure she would struggle with me coming out, and now wondered why I had not tested the ground more beforehand. I felt scared just thinking about it.

Both my parents had passed away. It would have been hard for my Dad I thought, but also decided that my mother would have been really fine with it, and probably talked everyone else around. My sister would disown me for sure, but I hardly ever saw her anyway. Grandchildren were still very young, and I know of others that have transitioned and found youngsters to be very adaptable about the whole thing.

I was unsure about my own now grown up children, and that was my biggest concern.

As I did the laundry and generally prepared for a normal working day tomorrow, I decided to sleep on it and do some research. All of the time though, thoughts of Charlotte ran around my head and I wondered if I would ever see her again. Although I had her mobile number, I didn't actually know where she lived. Big mistake, I thought.

The phone rang, making me jump and waking me from my dreamy state.

It was Lyn, checking to see if I had returned home safely and thanking me for being her "stunning and fabulous" bridesmaid. She was at the airport, on her way to her honeymoon!

We talked for a while and Lyn probed me persistently about Charlotte, trying to find out if I really liked her, or if it was just an affair. It seemed that Charlotte had talked at length about me to Lyn.

I explained my crisis to Lyn, trying not to be too enthusiastic about Charlotte, explaining that I didn't want to start something really serious with her, only to hurt her in the future. I started to cry and sob as we talked it over and Lyn did her best to console me. When I put the phone down, I felt drained of all emotion and headed home.

The following day I woke up in good time and instead of feeling the dread of a decision to be made, I felt like a load had been lifted from my shoulders.

My partner was already up and I just put a dressing gown and went to the kitchen for breakfast. We exchanged small talk about the weekend and discussed what was ahead, work wise, in the coming week. When she left for work, I thought about how the conversations we have had could have been with anyone. We never talked about each other, or our feelings and plans. Immediately I knew this was over, and I had to move out, for the second time.

After breakfast I showered and went into the office.

When I get in I would normally put on some lingerie under my guy jeans and tee. I would rarely put in my boobs, wear makeup or wear my wig even though I am always in my office on my own. Somehow, I didn't need that to make me feel like Georgia.

Today it seemed my brain had decided it was to be different, and it didn't care if I received a visitor, or had someone Skype me.

After a moment's thought about possible consequences, I decided to run with it and spent 30 minutes or more than usual getting ready. I always dress casually in the office and saw no need for a skirt suit so I chose skinny jeans, flats and a lovely soft roll neck sweater. Adding a few accessories and light makeup I was ready for work, switched on the computers and settled in.

Although it felt very different, it didn't feel wrong, and I had no concerns for the day as my mind switched into work mode and I started to plan my day ahead. Today was a good day, I thought, and it passed by without any interventions. Probably just as well, I thought.

As I changed to go home, I knew that there would be difficult conversations, and tears to follow.

The evening was horrendous. I told my partner that I had to leave, and that I wanted us to stay close, and friends. I told her about Georgia and spent hours trying to explain how it came about, how it started as occasional crossdressing, how I felt, and how I literally have no control or option but to do what had to be done.

I used the internet to find articles on transgender people but she is an educated woman and was already aware of the LGBT community, and anyway, there had been a rush of TV programmes on trans-related topics recently.

She asked if I was gay. Actually, it was the first question she asked, and I responded very clearly that I was not. She was clearly relieved. Afterwards, I wondered if Charlotte qualified as a man, but quickly decided it was a no.

It was late that we eventually, both exhausted, turned in.

The morning arrived far too soon, and I dreaded going downstairs to breakfast, but it had to be done. I had to see her before she left for work. I felt that a load had been lifted off my shoulders and wondered why I had not told her decades ago.

To my eternal surprise, she hugged me when I entered the kitchen and we held each other tight for some time. She looked drained and I told her that I felt awful for what I had done. But she made it easy for me, promising to stay friends and not telling anyone until I decided it was right. People would not find it strange, she argued, we had separated again. We would simply say that we had given it a go, but it didn't feel right. We agreed to talk more that evening.

I was relieved, but also very sad. Unbelievably sad.

I went to the office and, unusually, didn't change into any of my female clothes. Somehow, it just didn't feel right.

I was busy but planned how I was going to manage my coming out. I found a lot of advice on the web, much of it written by trans people who had faced up to their situation much as I had. I wished I had read some of the advice before I had told my partner though.

Over the next week my plans developed and my partner helped me find a house to rent. She could not have been more supportive, although there were tears all along the way. We had discussed continuing to share the same house, but she didn't want to meet Georgia, and that would have been difficult. It was almost as if I had an affair, and Georgia was the woman!

I had moved out once before and this time was not as traumatic. Suddenly Georgia had been freed again, but there were still many decisions to be made, and difficult conversations to be had. I would miss my partner, of course, but it was clear that she would try to support me and remain close friends, much as we had in recent years.

Over a week at work I sent emails to all of my contacts about my change and most, but not all, were more supportive than I had expected, after getting over the shock. One said that they knew I was trans anyway by the way in which I had always dealt with them. Much more like a woman than a guy, they said, and immediately started to call me Georgia, asking when they would get to meet me/her.

Fortunately, my main clients also stood by me, and two suggested it would be an improvement, dealing with a woman for a change! One argued that there were not enough female project people. Oh well, there had to be an advantage somewhere I surmised.

That reminded me of a mtf engineer who I had worked with about 10 years ago. There have been one or two that I could recall over my years in the industry. She had quite a manly face, in my view, but otherwise she was all woman and always wore amazing heels. In fact, I think it was her heels, being unusually high for a typical workplace, that initially made me aware of her. I was always complimenting her on her choice of shoes and I am sure she thought I was hitting on her. Maybe I was? She was a true professional and being mtf never seemed to be an issue with her, although I wish now that I had an opportunity to talk to her about it. One is never sure though. Would she be disappointed that she had been outed? So I never said anything.

One of my concerns, in my head, was my appearance at conferences. I am well known and often appear as a guest speaker. As Georgia, it may be hard to speak from my experience, everyone knowing who I am. I have been around for quite a while. I pondered whether to attend such events as a guy, or whether to appear as Georgia and simply put it out there. Something like "Hi, I'm Georgia. You used to know me as ..." and then just get on with the presentation, after waiting for the applause to die down, of course.

I often daydream like this, I thought.

Just before lunchtime, Lyn emailed me to see how I was. I told her everything and she said that she was pleased for me, reassuring me that I had done the right thing, for everyone. She invited me over for the first weekend she was back, if I needed to get away. She also suggested I call Charlotte, or at least bring her up to date.

I had a meeting locally and then decided to have lunch in a café by the water, in Fowey. I thought it would help calm my soul somewhat.

After much deliberation I called Charlotte, only to be greeted, unexpectedly, by her voicemail. The sound of her voice immediately aroused every cell in my body, and I was transported back to the wedding weekend. I babbled some sort of message and hung up, wishing that I had given it more thought. What an idiot.

Less than a minute later, my phone rang, and it was Charlotte. My heart raced as I picked the call up.

"Hello Charlotte" I said with an edge of nervousness in my voice, "Thanks for calling me back."

"How are you?" she said, "Lyn tells me you have left your partner and decided to live full time."

"It's so nice to hear your voice Charlotte, I am fine, all things considered, although I have to admit, I could have used a few more hugs recently."

"How are you? What have you been up to? It would be good to catch up over coffee sometime."

There was a momentary pause, which felt much longer.

"Fuck me Georgia, are you just pretending to be cool about us, or what? I thought we had something special, and you haven't even sent me a text."

My heart sank as I felt how upset Charlotte was.

"What the fuck is going on with us?"

"My darling, gorgeous Charlotte. I am so sorry but I thought you wouldn't want me acting like a stalker. I really wasn't sure. I mean, let's face it, you are a ten, and I'm a 5 in the ratings thing. I thought you'd move on. I didn't want to hassle you."

"You fucking idiot," she snapped back at me, "My god, I love you Georgia. I really love you, and my heart has been yearning to hear your voice since we parted. Every single second since we said goodbye. How could you not realise that?"

She sounded angry, in a very emotional way. It seemed that I had misjudged things, again.

"Charlotte, meeting you has changed my life. I mean, literally changed my life. It is because of you that I am becoming who I really am. It is because of you that I have emerged, like a rather well-worn butterfly, into the sunshine. I know in my heart that I love you too, but I dared not admit it to myself. It thought that it would lead to nowhere and break my heart again, like leaving you in the car park did last time."

I heard Charlotte begin to cry and struggle to reply. We talked for a while and agreed to meet at Lyn's the next weekend as she was travelling most of the week.

When I hung up a wave of joy ran over me. It was as if the sun had just come out from behind a cloud and warmed me to my very soul. I was in love, and Charlotte loved me too.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind. There was so much work to handle, and lots to sort out in my private life. It was a torrent of emotions for most concerned, and I knew it would take a long time to settle down.

Work became my anchor and it was easier to become myself in that environment. My first meets with clients, either in person or on the phone, were interesting to say the least, and in some cases entertaining and very funny. Most were very cautious about what they should or should not say to me but once they realised I was OK and had retained a sense of humour we just had some fun.

I'm pretty sure a couple of guys hit on me, and certainly one female secretary did. This was new ground for me and I wasn't sure how to handle such direct approaches, but my shyness and naivety seemed to save me.

Now that I was going more or less full time, I realised that I needed far more clothes than before, especially smart working clothes for business trips, and decided to shop the weekend I was away at Lyn's. I thought I could probably use her's and Charlottes' guidance, and anyway, shopping for the wedding had been a real treat and doing it again was something to look forward to.

Wading through the maze of documents and guidance on how to change things like passport and driving licence to my female name took days and I realised I needed to see my doctor first. I had often self-medicated hormones, buying them from reputable places in Europe and decided it was time to change that rather risky habit. And anyway, getting bigger boobs was something else to look forward to!

The weekend came and it was refreshing to be able to pack a bag of freshly laundered clothes that didn't look like they needed ironing. Making sure I had everything I needed I headed off to Brighton singing along to the music as I went. I was so looking forward to seeing Charlotte again. We had talked on the phone every day since clearing up my misunderstanding.