The Counsellor

Afternoon People xx

Y’all good? Nope? Tough. I am. And at this moment in time that’s all that matters. I am a living and physically breating human being, with a brain. At least I think it’s a brain inside my head, anyway. I had an EEG (Electro Encephalograph for you big heads) when I was a kid, and they said there was one there. Does that mean they found one? Or did the woodworm hide within one? Who knows, currently, I don’t.

You see, the result of my recent doctors appointment has sent my head into a tailspin. I mean; how can I, the master of all things female (Yeah I’m a player and I’m goooood at pucking up women) actually BE female? This just doesn’t compute – At all. I’ve spent all of my adult life living as a man, fitting in with men, enjoying the company of men, flirting with men…

What? Nah, I didn’t just think that, did I? – Nah…

OK. Just what is going on inside my head? I am a man, I need woman. I need to f… Am I Bisexual??? This went on for days. I mean seriously, I’d never had these thoughts before. Although I’d never been told I was a woman before, at least not by a doctor anyway.

Come on, right, Men are always calling each other Queer; “You’re a woman you are, Man up?!”, and, “Oi! Gayboy, get your arse over here and fix this! You broke the server, you get here and fix it” – Commonplace quotes in my life, especially on a night shift in the data centre. Did I tell you I worked in IT? Probably not, but I do; have done for years… But still; Men are Men. We’ve played footie together, got muddy, scored goals, hugged in the showers… Mmmm… Get out of my head!! I need to see a counsellor, this is not right…

So I book an appointment. I gotta straighten this out; my whole identity has just changed overnight and that is not right (or is it, I actually don’t know anymore). I’ve never looked at a man like that before, at least not that I can remember anyway, so why am I thinking about it now?? There must be a latent sexual problem, it can’t be anything serious; so I’m sure I can deal with it via a few counselling sessions.

Goes to the appointment. Well, I only needed one.

“Hiya Doc, How you doing?”, said I.

“Fine thanks Robert, glad you could make it”, was the reply.

“Call me Bert”, I said, “That’s the name I prefer to use, less formal”.

“Sure”, she said, “What can I do for you?”.

“I’ve just been the doctors and came out with a diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria. That can’t be right, can it?”, I said, “I mean, look at me, do I look like a woman?”. “Well…”, she said, “You don’t look like a woman, No, but you sure as hell act like one. What do you think gave the doctor the clues they needed?”

I want to get up and walk out the door, but I’m pinned to my seat. How in the hell did a counsellor, who’s never met me before, work out that a man in a suit, with a bald head, was a woman? I picked up the mirror next to me and looked into it.

“Serously, I have no idea. I don’t look like a woman – See…”, and I pointed to my face. “I never said you look like a woman, Bert”, she said, “I said you act like one. Your walk, you mannerisms, your facial expressions when you’re talking; all tell tale signs. There’s a woman in there trying to get out”, was the response.

I sat forward. “What exactly are you trying to say?”, resting my chin on my finger. It was at this point she held up a mirror, just far enough away for me to see my whole face and it’s posture. And at just the right angle to give the tell-tale signs away. And I fell off the chair. “What the fuck!”, I said falling off the chair. “So I act feminine sometimes, give me more than that!”, my arms are flailing everywhere at this point as well

She’s still holding the mirror at me. “What did you say to the doctor? And I want the full transcript…”. I put my hands on my head, took a deep breath, and recited everything I told the doctor first.”

“There’s definitely a latent, feminine sexual interest there”, she said to me after I recited the part regarding the interesting weekend, the long member and it’s positioning. “But there’s more than that”, said she, “If the events of your childhood were different, I’m almost certain you would have transitioned in your teens – Tell me more about those years please?”.

“OK”, I said – “And don’t hold anything back”, were the words she used as I was about to start.

And it all came spewing out – Unabated, unhinged, unchallenged. All the random acts that didn’t make sense from my teenage years suddenly gained meaning, form & definition, and presented themselves, on the tip of my tongue, for her perusal. One after the other. When I was done; she put the mirror down, turned to me, looked me straight in the eye and floored me with one sentence:

“You’re a woman Bert, Get over it”.

Oh Fuck.

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