It was the week after that things broke down. On Sunday, exactly four weeks after I had become Lola, I started officially my first period. I went by the salon where Mrs Marlin was very proud of me, to get my wig removed. The rest of the team was all pretty much back to their normal hair, and my new wig was a tumble of brown red, in a beautiful quality of real hair. It would probably last for six months, Mrs Marlin said, as she worked on my makeup, which would last for about two weeks, as she explained the tricks to match my new hair color.



I had chosen the hard way with the suppository and it was uncomfortable from the first moment. I could feel it press into me every moment and that pressure made it leak harder than what I thought it should be. Not really used to how to deal with it, I messed up the tampon and my pad didn't stop the heavy flood. In school, on Monday, after the first rush of people liking my new hairstyle, I had to deal with the embarrassment of staining my skirt.



Obviously, the goal was to learn about the not so perfect parts of being a woman, and I wondered if I should have done that in a more gradual way. I told myself that any real woman would not have had that choice, so deal with it. I had to rush out of the class to get things more or less fixed in the bathroom. But then I wasn't allowed back in due to an unannounced test that had started right after I left the room.



I decided to go back to my dorm and change my clothes. I had tears in my eyes about the unfairness of the situation, and I decided to call Ian, asking him to meet me for an early lunch. He was in a very tight place himself but he found just enough time to meet me. I dumped my bad mood on him and we got into our first fight after which he left. By now I was walking home, visibly crying and a stranger took pity on me, trying to help me, but in the end robbing me from the little wallet I kept in my purse. So, I was out of my cash for the week, as well as my student ID, my driver's license and my credit card.



I reported the mugging to the police, but with no form of any ID they made me call my mom, who denied having a daughter. They sent me away with a severe warning about filing false reports, and I wanted to just go to bed and cry. Instead, I went to the administrative office, trying to get at least a new student ID, but as easy as it was weeks ago, when I was a celebrity, now it was just disaster. My picture on file did not look at all like who I was right now, and they demanded a different form of identification.



I had to go to the social security building to request a copy of my card, but they concluded I was a woman while I was registered as a male. I had to go through a doctor first who should confirm my sex change. I ended up going back to see Mrs Marlin at the salon, and that turned out to be the best decision of the day. She cried with me, but then she reached out to her previous clients that had used the bodysuit, and three of them suggested the same doctor.



Like a mom, she took me to see the gender specialist, and for the first time that day I talked with someone who understood every part of my terrible day. It was really not that uncommon for transgender people, Dr Isoto, a pleasant Asian woman, said, to get into situations like this. The only way around it was to start with the basics, and that was fixing my birth certificate. But the more important question was, is that what I wanted? Did I, officially, for school, state and country, want to become a woman?



Of course I had thought about this for weeks, and with all the good things that had happened to me it was an easy decision. But today I had learned it's a slippery path, not particularly friendly to transgender people. I simply had been lucky that I hadn't been running into troubles already sooner than this, simply because the school administration had made it so easy on me.



But, in my heart I knew the answer. So I told the doctor, yes, I want to be a woman for the rest of my life. It was an important step, but not enough. I had only lived as a woman for a month, which was not enough. I wasn't taking female hormones to "proof" my desire, and there was only one way to speed up the process.



It was a contract. In exactly one year I would have to undergo sex reassignment surgery. Until then I would have to go through a strict hormonal therapy. But more importantly, today I would have to give up my male reproductive organs. Castration. And would I be able to pay for the whole procedure?



Wait! What was that before you asked about the money? Castration? Today? Was there no alternative?



There was, yes. A very simple one. Get rid of the bodysuit, the wig, the makeup, and become Brian again. I still had Brian's driver's license, so it should be easy to get a replacement social security card, and thus a new student ID. Was that what I wanted?



She gave me an hour to make my decision. And Mrs Marlin, who was in the waiting room, bless her, helped me. Forget about the money, she said, in your heart what do you feel? I can turn you back into Brian, today, just have to find you a male wig, and it will take a while for the suit remnants to be gone. But the most visible part that makes you a woman right now, your breasts, will be gone. Now, any time in the future you could start your official path to becoming Lola again, if you belief you made a mistake. I can help with that as well, perhaps with a new bodysuit, or you start taking hormones.



Or... you stay Lola, and you sign this contract. You would have become a woman much faster than most transgender people. You would essentially stop being male later today, but why would you care? The path is clear for your future, except there's no way back. You have to be sure. I can sign as well to guarantee the money, but you will have to work in the salon, as long as it takes to pay me back. Which could take years, assuming you only have limited time as a student. If you want to go this path, I also want you to discuss it first with your parents. My guess is that your mom is really upset by now about the police call.



Thank God for her describing it into such simple terms. She was right, I could always become Lola at a later time again, if I went back to being Brian. But would I? The path to becoming Lola again later would be slow and full of controversy. And costly. Staying Lola right now, I would keep all my lucky advances, my friends, my singing and dancing. And, apart from the damn period, I loved being Lola. I should have told my mom...



And that's what I did. Right from the waiting room I called my mom, who was indeed upset. Not with me, but with the fact that someone had tried to use her, according to the police. It took a bit to tell her my story and she calmed down, then I could hear her cry, asking why I never shared this with her. Obviously, I never had planned on staying Lola originally, but it just happened and I was worried about what dad would say. Leave dad to me, she said, if you want to be Lola, then we will help. She would contact the health insurance as she knew they had provisions for this. And just like that, I had made my decision.



A short time later Mrs Marlin and I both signed the contract. Plus I signed an agreement with her about repayment of all costs she spent on me, through employment in her salon, and any other means of income I may have.



Giving me no chance to worry, I was knocked out through some pill. I was vaguely aware that they were prepping me, moving me into a surgery area, and then I woke up, groggy. Mrs Marlin, whom I loved more and more like a mother, was at my bedside. Dr Isoto came by when my mind was more clear. It had been a minor surgery which was a success, and I shouldn't feel too much discomfort. But she did two more things. First, she implanted a slow release "pill" inside me, that would release the perfect amount of female hormones into my bloodstream, day after day, good for a whole year, when the major surgery would take place. Second, there was a very small electronic device implanted at the end of my vaginal canal, which would simulate a monthly period, like the suppository did, except it would pinch through my skin with a tiny needle and collect the blood in a small reservoir, which would release at random intervals during the week of my period. It was the closest I would get to having a real period. I was officially at day 2 of my first period now.



The doctor also told me that my own breasts would come in relatively fast, and that she could remove my falsies fairly easy, without damaging the rest of the bodysuit. She also warned me the hormones could affect my mood and even my thoughts. And she recommended to have good sex, starting in a few weeks, but always use a condom. As a woman you don't want to get pregnant by accident, she explained, very similar to what Mrs Marlin had told me before.



She had quite some paperwork for me, the most critical ones to get my birth certificate and my social changed. Then there were more papers for the school and driver's license and passport, as well as for my bank and a bunch of other institutions. There was one more blank that needed to be filled though, and that was my middle name. I chose Brianna, which held my old name, yet sounded very Irish as well.



As it was getting late, Mrs Marlin drove me to the social security administration, and now they took my paperwork without an issue. They handed me a temporary form that I could use at school, as my official card would be mailed to me. Just in time I made it back to school, and with my different papers it was all in order now, and I had my new ID, showing my new face. At least I could continue my classes again.



When I got finally back to my room, Carla knew immediately something was wrong, and I told the story of my first period. She had called Gemma, so I didn't have to tell it twice. Both girls felt sorry for what had happened, but both were happy I had decided to stay a girl. By now I was exhausted and I needed to sleep. I didn't realize until the next day that Ian had called, and he had left a very short message to call him back.



I didn't call him, but I did call Noreen if I could see her that afternoon. She knew already that something was wrong, but she didn't ask questions.



I sent the paperwork for my new birth certificate to my mom, and called her to tell her. Plus I explained what I had done and that I was officially Lola now. She loved my new middle name as well, and suddenly she started talking about my birth parents.



I was adopted at age 3 after both my birth parents died in a car accident. Both were Irish from birth, and they did not have immediate family here. My mom and dad had been on a waiting list for a long time, for a girl. But when asked if they would accept a child right away, even though it was a boy, they took me in and loved me as their own, something I had no doubt about.



It took a few years before they were contacted by what my birth grandparents would be. They kept in touch to make sure I was happy, but they did not want to interfere in my life, and uproot my childhood again. My parents kept all of this from me, for the same reason. But for me it was clear now why I could handle the Gaelic language so easy, and why I had been feeling Irish, ever since I did the line dance during the Survivor tournament.



It was the first thing I told Noreen that afternoon, and she was not surprised. But she was confused a bit about the adoption of the boy. So I explained everything that had happened and how I became Lola. Then I told her about the day before, my first self induced period, and how I got in trouble at school because of it, and how I dumped it all on Ian and how we had our first fight.



But when I told her how I had been mugged, losing all my identification that I was Lola, getting into problems with the police and the school, she got very upset. No matter what, she said, her brother should have seen me safely home.



But when I explained what happened after that, my love for singing, my love for dancing, or just being Lola, made me decide to give up the piece that was still male inside me, she cried, hugging me, telling me I should have called her.



So, I needed her advice in relation to her brother. How would I explain all of this? Would he even be more angry? Or would he simply not want to have anything to do with me anymore. And how would that affect my singing and dancing? I was crying myself now, just not sure what to do. She asked me if I loved him.



Of course I love him, I cried out, at least my girl part does. But my male part is in love with my roommate. How could I have gotten into this mess?

But, she asked, didn't you just say that you lost your male part yesterday?



Now I was confused even more. But she was right. Last night I had gone to bed early, but I didn't remember Carla ever joining me. And when I woke up she was gone already. Had I given up on the piece that she needed?



I decided that I needed to talk with Carla first, before I could explain anything to Ian. Noreen warned me not to wait too long and I knew she was right. I went back home and caught Carla just before she was leaving. Looking in her eyes I knew it already, but I asked her anyway.



She was apologetic, saying it was her. But reality was that she now accepted me as a true girl, was happy for me even, but it broke the special band we had, the love we shared. Sleeping with me did suddenly not give the satisfaction that she had just a few days ago. She couldn't explain it well, but I understood it exactly. We were still friends, study buddies even, but the sexual attraction was gone. The love we still felt was for the friend we were to the other.



She had a striking idea that solved an awkward situation. I would room with Gemma, and Rebecca, with whom Carla had gone out a number of times, would move in here. The four of us got together, and we moved that very same night.



Gemma was the best BFF I could have. She understood exactly what had happened and she reasoned that my female hormones were probably raging already. So what was I going to do about Ian?



I simply called him. He answered at the first ring and said he was sorry, before I could say the same thing. We laughed and I told him we needed to talk and he said he was on his way. I guess I didn't get a lot of time to think what to say, and maybe it was for the best. Gemma said to simply tell the truth. And if he worries you can't give him children in the future, then I will help you out, she finished with a wink. That's when I saw Ian's car pull up to the front of the building.



I rushed out and downstairs, and then straight into his arms. He held me tight, kissing the top of my head. It seemed like everything was forgotten and forgiven, but I knew it wasn't that simple. I got in the car and told him to drive somewhere quiet.



There was a little park, not too far from the Irish pub, and I felt right at home. There are a few things I need to tell you, I started, as we sat down on a bench. First of all, today I found out that I'm Irish. One hundred percent. He laughed, saying he knew that all along. I went on, maybe, but did you know I was also born a boy? Now he really laughed, thinking I was joking. Until he saw I wasn't laughing, but had tears in my eyes. I tried to stop them, but my new hormones were definitely making me more emotional.



Tell me, was all he said. So I explained how I became Lola, only one month ago for the tournament. How it had felt so natural, my voice finally matching my body. I suddenly had friends and I was popular because I won a few rounds for our team. I reminded him how I had tried not to go on a date with him, knowing I'd be back to being a boy soon.



But things changed. The dancing, the singing, him, how well we fit together, and I started forgetting I was a boy under all this, refusing to revert back. And I decided to stay a girl. I explained about the urge to become a real woman, and how I induced my first period, and how it messed up my class, because I wasn't good enough yet at being a woman. I was so upset, but I figured he'd help me and cheer me up. Instead we had our first fight, and crying while walking home I got mugged.



He nodded. He had heard that part from his sister, and she had scolded him for not taking me home. Then I told him the rest, the police, my ID's, and eventually my surgery and my path to true womanhood. Maybe I didn't tell him about Carla, but I felt it wouldn't do any good right now.



Well, he said, it explains why you didn't want to have sex with me. You weren't ready yet, you said. Are you even capable? The question hurt me, but his worry was legit I figured. So I answered, yes, I have a fully functional artificial vagina, so I can have sex. I'm cleared two weeks after the surgery I had yesterday. And in a year it will be the real thing, I have a wonderful doctor that helps me through this transition.



I didn't know if it was enough. He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, so you still want me? After all that ordeal?

I smiled. That was my line you know. But yes, I still want you. Need you. More than ever. Do you still want me?



Two weeks you said? was his response. I looked at him, not sure what he meant. He said again, two weeks probation? Then we fuck like rabbits? I laughed now, finally getting it. Two weeks, I said, then we fuck like rabbits. I'm your's Ian!



He took me in his arms, and I felt like I belonged there. Then he twisted me towards him and he kissed me. It felt wonderful, I had made the right decision, and I put everything I had in the kiss.