Masculinity Lost, Femininity Found

by Emma Kate

  

A sense of relief swept over me as I gathered my manuscript and went back to my seat. It was only then that I realized that the applause was more than polite, but was extended and heartfelt. I could feel myself starting to blush, especially when Jason reached down, grabbed my hand, squeezed it, gave me a peck on the cheek, and whispered, "Kathy, that was brilliant."

Finally, the clapping died down, and the chairman of the gathering said from the podium, "I think that Dr. Dennison and Ms. Putnam have presented to us startling findings about a highly significant topic that we need to explore further. As we have some time to spare I am going to suggest a ten minute break and then we will return to this hall for thirty or forty minutes of questions and answers."

A small crowd gathered around the dais, but I managed to slip away and leave Jason talking to them in earnest medical language. I took refuge in the ladies room where, after I had peed I freshened up my makeup, dabbed on some more scent, and put a brush through my hair. It was then that elegant well-dressed woman walked in, smiled, and said, "I guessed I'd find you here… it doesn't take long for a woman to discover there is one safe place where the male hoards won't follow you."

I laughed, "Yes, this is quite an escape hatch – and just about every week I discover more and more of the advantages of being female."

"If you could, would you want to go back?" I shook my head and mumbled something about not now. She grinned and said, "I don't blame you, I would have hated being born like that. I'm Renee White, by the way, My husband is a urologist, but that's not what's important, my younger sister is transsexual – I grew up with a kid brother who played with my toys, raided my closet, but who is now married to one of my former boyfriends. She's beautiful and he's drop-dead gorgeous. If they were able to have kids I am sure they would all be supermodels."

Renee and I chatted for a while, then walked together back to the hall agreeing that we would get some time together the following day. Little did I realize that that chance meeting in the ladies room would result in a wonderful friendship with both her and her sister in the years to come.

The audience seemed even larger when we were all settled again, with people standing around the walls at the back to hear Jason and me answer questions. The first one was for Jason and sought clarification on what might have done this to me. He carefully dissected the question, answering that there seemed to be some instability in my chromosomes which had resulted in the Ys becoming Xs, thus triggering a cascade effect which had resulted in the female me developing that would have resulted if I had been born with XX rather than an XY chromosome configuration.

Then a question was asked of me by a middle-aged man near the back, "Kathy, what do you like most about being a woman?"

I crossed my legs as I gave it some thought, realizing the action had been watched by every pair of male eyes in the room. I tugged at the hem of my dress, giggled, then laughed, "Well, I enjoyed doing that. It was great fun just now watching all you men perk up when I crossed my legs!"

The comment brought the house down. There was laughter and cheers, and I could feel myself both blushing and sensing the exciting liberty that comes with being female. Somehow it broke the ice and now we were able to get down to the nitty-gritty of the conversation. "On a more serious note I confess that while there are tremendous pleasures about my newly-acquired status, it is only little by little that I have come to appreciate them. I think the hardest thing about the transition is that becoming a woman has meant letting go some of the benefits which go with being a man, benefits with which I had lived with and taken for granted all my life."

I could see that my reply disappointed, so decided to soldier on with some examples. "Although it did not come immediately, under the tutelage of a very feminine creature I much appreciate fashion, clothes, shoes, jewelry, and so forth. I have come to love shopping and I like experimenting with styles, cosmetics, and so forth. When this adventure began, I did not think such a thing possible. I enjoy being closer to my emotions, and socially being free to express those emotions. As my friends and the researchers who have worked with me will tell you, tears are a regular occurrence with me, and I am happy for the release that they give." I paused, "The truth is I rather enjoy crying!"

Then I found myself wondering, should I or shouldn't I? Then I thought what the hell, this crowd are on my side. "And after a great deal of initial caution, I really do enjoy getting attention from men. Dating has turned out to be fun, and although I was very leery of the idea when all this started happening to me, there is something rather delicious about holding a guy's hand, being kissed, and more..."

With these words I could feel myself blushing. Perhaps I had said too much. My mind flashed back for a moment to that October evening at Philip's house. We had been out to dinner, had walked through Pike's Place Market, and now were having coffee together at his home. We were sitting on the sofa when his arm looped itself around me as we were chatting, and soon we were kissing. We had kissed before, but there had always been restraints, yet in the last couple of weeks I had been told that while there may be various small bits and pieces of me still reordering themselves, as far as they were concerned my body had now reached a point where I could now fully function as a female, although it was likely to be some months before I was able to reproduce.

That had been such a scary thought when I had been told, but what I realized now was that I was as free to be sexual as any other woman of my age. I had already discovered ways to give myself solo pleasure, but I would wake up in the middle of the night wondering what it would be like to go to bed with a man – and at the same time terrified that either I would not satisfy him or, even worse, that I would hate it when I came to doing it. It had been interesting how my attitudes had altered toward men, women, and sex during the time since all this had started happening to me.

Early on in the process it was noticed that my preferences were starting to change, but to begin with women were to be emulated and men were an object of fascination. Kissing a male, or being sexual in any way with him, didn't do much for me, although tests showed that in the process of transitioning from male to female I was sexually increasingly drawn to males. I learned, too, that spontaneous sex change was not unknown in nature, and that fish, particularly, were prone to it – although it was more often female-to-male in their case. Certain salmon I discovered, were prone to quite rapidly to change sex in order to maximize mating opportunities for the strongest males. It would seem that the hormonal changes that enabled such a thing had somehow been mimicked in my body, which would perhaps help explain why I was increasingly drawn to males as the process went forward.

To then discover that I was now free to have the sort of intimacies other women take for granted left me feeling excited and numb, frightened and desiring the adventure. I also wondered when the opportunity would present itself, although I did expect it would be with Philip.

Philip had been, as it were, trying his luck for a while, but until that evening I had tended to kiss him then brush his hands away if he was getting a little too fresh for my liking. It was funny that when I had been a healthy young man I had delighted and often succeeded in getting my hands inside girls' clothing, but now that I had found myself on the receiving end of such attentions there was a cascade of mixed feelings. That evening I could feel the battle going on inside me as Philip whispered nice things to me, stroked my hair, and planted pretty little kisses on my lips, nose, eyes, cheeks, forehead, and so forth.

There were still remnants of my male mentality that wanted not only to respond, but almost to take over the lovemaking, but I stayed calm and nestled closely, feeling delicious because of the attention he was giving me. This was something I liked. After a while, as his increasing hardness pressed impatiently against my thigh his hands started to wander, and I allowed him to brush them gently over my breasts. I loved the sensation, and the sexual temperature began to rise. While I was beginning to find it difficult to remember what it felt like to be a man and be aroused, I did recall how urgent it always seemed to feel. As a woman I was discovering that arousal was so different, more like a steady simmering than a rush to boiling point.

His hand slipped over my hips and down my thighs until he reached the hem of my skirt. As he stroked my knee trying to decide how daring he would be the little voice inside me seemed to whisper, "Come on, girl, it's now or never." My knees had been pressed tightly together, but very tentatively I opened them just a couple of inches and he gently stroked around them pushing his hand between them.

"Mmmm, that feels good," I whispered into his ear, and with heart pounding and body responding to his attention, during the next few minutes I liet that hand gently advanced upward until it rested on the goal of its desires. My whole body seemed to be sexually alive as never before, but a voice in my head was saying, "Kathy, dear, if you don't stop this soon you won't be able to stop it at all."

I was seriously considering pulling the plug on the fun and games when Philip changed his position and I was able to feel the size and strength of his hardness pressed against me. I had a rough idea what it must have felt like for him, and it sent something akin to an electric shock surging through my body. I was now incredibly aroused, but the arousal was a deep hunger and wanting because I felt incomplete and empty, and my body knew that I would only be able to feel whole and complete if we were one. He kissed me gently on the lips and I returned the kiss passionately, opening my mouth so that his tongue could enter my mouth. I groaned as my sense of arousal intensified. "God, I love it when a woman does that," Philip whispered.

"Would you like me to stay the night?" I volunteered. There was silence as he kissed me with increased ferocity and then I thought I would try my little girl voice out on him, fondled his penis, and said softly, "I think that's the message this hungry little fellow is giving me."

The next few minutes were like a dam bursting. They were also a flurry of clothing being shed. I had neither seen nor touched a real live penis since my own had been swallowed back into me and transformed into the feminine equipment I was now about to exercise for the first time, and while there was an initial sense of dismay when he slid off his clothes and stood naked before me, there was also an intense consciousness of ravenous desire. I knelt naked before him and gave pleasure to his shaft and balls with my mouth before he could take it no longer and almost dragged me into the bedroom where he lay me on the bed, covered me with his body, and decisively but gently plunged the organ deep inside me. I could hear myself whimpering, but there was nothing I could do about it.

I had used stents and dildos since crossing the sexual line, but having sex with a real live man was turning out to be an entirely different experience. Although it took several sessions of sleeping over for me to become comfortable enough with Philip to respond to his lovemaking with orgasms, I knew in the security of his bed that this is what I had been intended for sexually. And while I found myself enjoying it as I explored how to take initiatives in bed and delight in his body, it was a different kind of sex I was enjoying than in my previous life, for it was much more about giving and receiving. I realized one particularly beautiful night that I preferred this a thousand times to the aggressive, demanding sexuality that had previously been mine.

I realized also that I loved playing with Philip's penis, and he adored me doing it. Unlike most other women I had a pretty good idea what he would enjoy and how I could help him enjoy it. For me, though, it was fascinating to explore ways in which I could give play with his body so that he loved it and pleaded for more. "Oh, God," he said one evening as I knelt between his legs and sucked him, "It is almost as if you know what it feels like, I have never had a woman give me such pleasure before." At the time he had no idea of my full story. I was shaken that he might have guessed so waited to pick up the conversation until my mouth had given him full satisfaction.

My relationship with Philip did not last because as we progressed it became less and less about friendship and love, and more and more about sex. We would go out together, skip dinner and conversation, and hop straight into bed. However, I never shared with him my secret. It wasn't until well after it had finished that Philip learned the details of my past identity, and there was a genuine sense of pain and bitterness that he unloaded onto me. In the wake of the months I spent with him came other men and I guess I was a bit of a slut for a while as I got used to my new capabilities. Yet I did find myself developing my feminine personality as a result of the pleasure I received from other men's company. By the time I came to this conference I was probably as skilled in bed as almost any other woman of my age.

"Does that mean, Kathy," came a voice from the back of the auditorium, "That you are sexually active?"

I grinned and nodded. "Yes, it does."

Before the chair could stop him his supplementary question came, "And do you enjoy it? Do you enjoy it more or less than when you were male?"

I laughed. "I have always loved sex, but being sexual as a woman took some getting used to." I paused for effect then said softly, "I think I have got the hang of it now though…" There was delightful laughter, and as it died down I completed the thought with the words, "And before anyone asks, no, I don't have a boyfriend at the moment. And that is the last thing I will say about it or someone is going to be embarrassed – probably me… or Jason!"

As I finished that sentence there was another voice, a woman's this time, and this was nearer the front. "And what do you like least about being a woman?"

I shrugged. "Well, I have learned a lot from my transsexual friends and now believe that there is something far superior about being a woman. However, yes, I suppose there are times when it has its shortcomings. Given that reality, why should I complain about what has happened to me?" More laughter followed.

"Seriously, though, yes there are things I'm not happy about. Then one of the extraordinary things that happened in the transition process is that my skeletal frame has altered and I am now a couple of inches shorter, weaker, although being slender helps with fashion. It is infuriating not being able to reach things that used to be no problem, or not be able to see over heads in a crowd unless I am wearing high heels. Now I rather like wearing heels, but I have discovered why women tend to complain about them – my toes are often very sore, as well as the calves of my legs. What is also annoying is that I am nowhere near as physically strong as I used to be, so I couldn't even push myself to the front of a crowd if I tried." I paused then went on, "I guess one of the things that I have yet to get used to is the monthly cycle and its occasional accompanying discomfort, but now I realize why my former spouse would sometimes get so whiney and grumpy.' I paused again and dropped my voice. "What I suppose I don't like more than anything is that the old me knew exactly who he was and I had some idea of the shape of the rest of my life. The new me, Kathy, she hasn't got a clue and is rather lost in this world. I can't go back to my old career and way of life, but I haven't found an appropriate way forward. That does worry me."

Then there was another question for Jason. "Do you think that Kathy's experience is unique, are we likely to come across other spontaneous gender transitions, and is this something that is replicable by medical means?"

Jason had been involved in my case almost since the beginning, and over the period of the project I had gradually come to know him and respect him very much. At first he had been rather distant from me, but having been thrown together in this way we had become friends to such an extent that he seemed to be just about the only man I felt able to confide in.

This man knew my body almost better than his own, and had gone over every millimeter of me with a fine toothcomb over the last several years, had measured every tiny change, and had sought to coordinate the team of biomedical researchers who were trying to get to the bottom of this. I had heard him talk about me so much that I only half listened. Then I heard him say something that was new to me: "I am beginning to think that there might be other spontaneous transitions in the future, although the evidence from Kathy's experience would suggest that we are unlikely to see a huge rash of them. Whether she is the first on an evolutionary continuum, only time will tell, but I am not going to make any predictions at this point. However, I think it possible that some of our research will bear fruit in finding a way for the replication of something similar in the lives of individuals who wish to make this inter-gender journey, rather than have it thrust upon them as Kathy has."

Finally, the presentation was over. For a while Jason and I were mobbed, and he was still in earnest conversation with medical types when my crowd thinned, I was finally able to creep out of the hall and find my way alone back to my hotel room. I slumped on the sofa in the room utterly exhausted, emotionally wrung out, and rather confused. I felt drained and the longer I sat there the more a sense of hopelessness and confusion came over me until the inevitable tears began to flow. Perhaps I should have said something to the question about what I did not like about being a woman that while I appreciated the ability to be able to weep, I did not enjoy the ease with which tears always came at a point of tension and stress.

This presentation was the end of a long journey for me, the project was about to be wrapped up, and the last several years of my life were drawing to a close. I had a few months and some generous financial help to get back into the mainstream of life, and I had saved quite a lot from the retainer I had been paid, but what does a woman who has a male past do? Who would take me seriously? What did I want to be? I had some ideas, but I dared not go there because I knew they were never likely to happen. I was a freak, which meant both the professional and the domestic options open to me were limited, to say the least.

I don't know how long I cried. The phone rang once, and I ignored it. Then it started ringing every few minutes for nearly an hour until finally I answered it.

"Are you alright?" I heard Jason say, "I have been trying to get you for the best part of an hour."

"I'm fine," I choked out. "Just a little overwhelmed, that's all."

We spoke for a minute or two before he called off. I had an idea that he was supposed to go to some kind of dinner that evening, but wasn't sure. Finally I managed to drag myself off the sofa, closed the blinds and wondered what I would do to feed myself, not that I was very hungry. I helped myself to a brandy from the mini-bar, then slid into a nice perfumed bath. Tina had never bathed, but I had discovered just how luxurious hot water swirling around my body feels during this time of transition. I must have lain there for a good twenty-five minutes before getting out, drying myself down, using talc and body lotion all over, and then shimmying into a fresh, clean, soft nightie and my long satin kimono. I was just brushing my hair when there was a tap on the door. I put on the chain and opened it a crack to see who it was, and saw Jason standing there looking agitated.

"Thank God you're OK," Jason gasped when he saw my face. "I was worried sick about you."

"Why?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Because I knew that this afternoon was going to be trying for you, and I didn't want you to have to spent too much time on your own this evening."

I was touched that he was so concerned about me. "I'm OK," I said, trying to be brave.

"Your swollen red eyes and puffy cheeks tell me to the contrary, Kathy. Come on, be honest with me. You forget that I know you almost as well as you know yourself," he replied. I tried to laugh, and then started crying again instead. I have no idea why I did it, but I unfastened the security chain on the door and let him in, turning round as I did so to walk back into the body of the room.

Then something strange happened, something that I had not expected, but he place his hands on my shoulders and turned me round to face him. Through the tears I could see the concern on his face and I asked, "Why are you so anxious about me, Jason, the project is now over and I am who I am, you have learned a lot, given a lot from this experience to the scientific database, and I know that you will be offered some wonderful job somewhere that you fully deserve."

He shrugged, "Yes, that's true. I have actually been offered a year's sabbatical in England to study with a medical scientist there who I greatly respect, and then a position has been made open to me at a major research facility in the Northeast."

I tried to smile, "Congratulations… I am going to miss you, Seattle will miss you."

"But don't you understand, you stupid woman," he almost shouted, "I don't want to do any of that if I have to do it on my own."

I sat down on the sofa, shook my head, and said, "Sorry, Jason, I'm utterly confused. You've never called me a stupid woman before, and neither do I have the slightest idea of what you are talking about."

He grinned like a schoolboy, "I'm sorry, Kathy, I have bottled all this up and I got so worried about you that I temporarily lost it – forgive me."

By now he was kneeling in front of me as I sat there on the sofa. I put my hands on his cheeks and grinned back as best I could, "Think no more of it, you're forgiven. Now get up, sit here, and tell me how you think it went this afternoon. Perhaps we could raid the mini-bar."

He blanched and then blushed, "I won't get up until I have said something that I have wanted to say for a very long time… Katherine Louise Putnam, during these last few years I have fallen hopelessly in love with you, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife." My English relatives have a wonderful word: gobsmacked, and that is what I was! I had felt that with the project drawing to a close I was being discarded, but not a bit of it. I sat there in silence and shook my head. "Kathy, please, don't say no."

"I'm not saying no, I'm just shaking my head in disbelief. Why would anyone want such a tangled creature as me? I had no idea you had any feelings for me at all other than friendship. I thought I was in some ways not much different than the various other specimens that you researchers slice up, analyze, define, and catalogue. You've fallen in love with me?" He nodded, and then I involuntarily giggled and replied, "Now I realize for real that I really am like just about every other woman on this planet – I don't understand men, you are a tribe that is totally beyond female comprehension."

He stayed kneeling in front of me, "I'm not asking you to understand me, Kathy, I am asking you to marry me, to share your life with me, to grow old together, perhaps even have a family. Maybe in that process you will learn not only to love me, but also to understand me just a little bit."

With that I started crying again. In between sobs I blurted out, "But how could you love me. You have seen me go through this whole change in my life. You knew me when I was Robert, you know every inch of my body and bits of my mind, how could you love me?"

He glanced heavenward with that look men have when women frustrate them to the limit. "Don't you see, you silly thing, that that is precisely why I do love you. I know you better than I know any other woman in the world, and because of that there is no one lese I would rather share the rest of my life with." There was a moment's silence then he went on, "Look, you know that I was married before. I think one of the problems that Jessica and I had was that we really didn't know each other properly and so when trials beset us we drifted apart. I know you. I know you like the back of my hand, which is probably one of the reasons why I have fallen so impossibly in love with you. Believe me, I tried to stop myself doing that, given how inappropriate it is for a doctor to be involved with a patient."

I shrugged, "Ah, but am I a patient, or am I a specimen in a massive cosmic experiment?"

He opened his mouth as if to respond to this statement, then closed it again and was silent for me. I sniffed and wiped my nose on a Kleenex. In a few short minutes my whole perception on life had been turned upside down. When I had opened the door I had felt that my whole existence was in ruins and now here I was fielding a proposal of marriage that was totally unexpected. "But we have never even kissed, and we certainly haven't been to bed together," I said.

He sighed, "Kathy, I don't need to be sexual with you to know that I love you. Over these many months I have known you I have found myself more and more in love with you. I can't tell you when and how it happened, but to me you are the most exquisitely fascinating female creature I have ever come across in my whole life. It is an honor and privilege to be your friend, and it would be so much more to be your husband."

This man had a way with words. I sniffled some more, trying to come to grips with this. "Are you sure you are not just feeling pity for me?"

He gasped and then exclaimed, "Ye gods, woman, what do I have to do to get across to you how I feel. Let me ask you a question, do you love me?"

Now we were getting down to the nub of things, and this thought had been churning round inside me since the audacious moment when he had told me that he wanted to marry me. I liked him very much, I had admitted to myself a long time ago that I found him physically very attractive, and on top of that I enjoyed spending time with him. My heart always seemed to leap these days when Jason was around, and his squeeze of my hand and little kiss this afternoon had been lovely.

I had not thought of men in the last year or more so much as potential mates, but for what pleasure our bodies could give each other. I had to confess to myself at that moment that when it came to exploring this new sexuality that I had been given by the strangeness of nature, it had not been easy for eight or nine men to separate me from my clothes and get me into bed. Yet here was a question that I ought to have pondered because I realized that my feelings for Jason were admiration, respect, and, if I admitted it to myself, love. I nodded and he smiled that infectious smile of his.

"So then, Miss Katherine Louise Putnam, will you be my wife, will you become Mrs. Dennison and share my life with me?" he asked with such a pleading look on his face that all I could do was smile and nod. "Truly?" he asked.

I cleared my throat, tears coursing down my cheeks, "Dr. Jason Dennison, I cannot think of anything I would love to do more than be married to you… and I would love you to be the father of my children."

As I said those words my heart sang within me and I knew that I had finally come home as I sank into Jason's arms and he smothered me with kisses. As I allowed him to undress me and take me to bed, there was a certain sense of relief that at last I had found a man who was worthy to be my lover and spouse for the long years that stretched out ahead of us. Needless to say, Jason stayed the night, and needless to say, making love to him was lots and lots of fun – and if I am to be honest, it still is.

*******

This whole story I have told you didn't all happen yesterday but, amazingly, nearly ten years ago. It hasn't been a happily ever after story, but these have been the best years of my life so far. When this strange series of circumstances began reworking my life I would have laughed you to scorn if you had said the greatest 'successes' of my life would be as wife and mother. Yet here I am almost the whole day since I started writing basking in the weird and wonderful course my life has taken.

Jason has made me happier than I ever thought possible. I thought during those dark days of ceasing to be my old self and becoming who I am now that what remained to me was only the residue of a life as someone who was bizarre and abnormal, but here I sit on the porch of our lovely home watching the sunlight, dappled by the trees around our home, dancing over the floral pattern of my light cotton skirt.

As I smooth my hand over my skirt, I smile as I remember myself doing the something similar to the silk tulle of my wedding gown as I stood at the back of the church on the evening of my wedding five months after Jason had proposed. I had not expected my father to give me away as he had been pretty disgusted by what had happened to me, but to my surprise there he was in his uniform and medals ready to walk me down the aisle. It was the beginning of a reconciliation which has turned him into one of the most wonderful grandfathers imaginable!

Our early years of marriage were not necessarily the easiest: yet how does a couple adjust to each other when they have both been husbands before? But after lots of squabbles, tears, making up, and then making love, we settled into what has been for me the most fulfilling relationship of my life. Jason is a caring, loving man, and is both extraordinarily patient with me, and incredibly gentle – especially when we are in bed and enjoying sex together.

And we both enjoy sex very much. He has told me many times just how hard it was for him to watch me going out with other men when I was discovering the sexual and erotic side of what it means to be a woman. This was a part of me that in those first months and years seemed strangely detached from the consequences of sex and intercourse. I knew, of course, that when a man makes love to a woman and there is no protection the outcome can sometimes be babies, but I guess that I never really came to terms with the fact that when Jason made the most gorgeous passionate love to me I was not immune from insemination!

First I missed a period and then I started feeling a bit mangy in the mornings, and one of my friends suggested that I might buy a pregnancy testing kit. I thought Jason might be alarmed when I told him he was to be a daddy, but he was over the moon – perhaps more so than I was. I was now exploring totally unknown territory and having wanted to be a father I now found my abdomen getting distended and all sorts of other strange changes taking place in my body, and then before long there was the first kick, then endless kicks, and finally such an aching back and a sense of being ready to give birth to my children, for it was twins, that I almost craved childbirth.

Giving birth was agony, but I never knew that motherhood could be so satisfying. I had always wanted to be a parent, but never expected myself to be someone who brings life into the world, nurtures it, loves it, cares for it, and then has the joy of watching her babies grow into the prettiest little girls imaginable. Today our twin daughters, Karen and Kristen, are the focal point of our lives. They are eight now and I know that I am biased, but they are as cute as they could possibly be. The one drawback is that I have quickly discovered how much a stay-at-home mom is a permanent taxi service!

As the years have passed and my femininity has deepened, I have come to appreciate the loving husband that Jason is to me. I adore the way in which he takes care of me and protects me – and our daughters, of course. I love it when he brings me flowers and little gifts, or those long romantic weekends that he sometimes arranges at little country inns or in borrowed vacation homes in the mountains in New Hampshire or the Berkshires. And all the years later it still sends a chill down my spine when at some gathering or other he introduces me to someone special with "this is Kathy, the love of my life and my wonderful wife." Needless to say, the first time he said that tears came to my eyes, but they were tears of gratitude and pride.

Alas, I wish things had been better as far as my relationship with my ex-wife, Tina. Her marriage to Douglas unfortunately did not last very long, and that seemed to set her on a downhill slope as far a men and marriage are concerned. She now seems to have developed the habit of dating and sleeping with rather inappropriate males. Her misfortunes have sadly made her envious of me, my marriage, and especially my family. She had been so eager for children and motherhood when we had been together that it must have come as a terrible blow when she learned I was pregnant and then had the twins. I have tried to stay well clear of her, but that is not always possible. Sometimes she writes or emails or even phones when she is going through one of her cycle of lows and blames her problems on me. I wish I could help her, but I had no control over what was happening to me – and she was the one who excluded me with great rapidity from her life. I am sad for her and when we take the girls to church I pray for her very much.

Meanwhile Jason keeps telling me that his career is going so well because of all the encouragement I have been to him. He was an up-and-coming young researcher when I was the specimen on which he was working when we first met. Now in his mid-forties with a distinguished graying around the temples, he is at the peak, and I am so proud of him that I sometimes think I am going to burst. While he fell in love with me long before I fell for him, I have tried to make up for that since: as I tell him every time we make love, "My darling, I love being a girl, especially your girl." I am so profoundly grateful now not only that Mother Nature played a strange trick on me, but that providence provided such a wonderful gentleman to help me make the most exciting journey of my life.

  

  

  

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