Be Myself! - 28. The Fall of Olivia

It was past seven o’clock when Oli and I left Luce’s house. Unfortunately, we arrived at the train station just as our train was leaving. The next one would be in half an hour, so we were stranded in a station that was nothing more than a small cabin with an automatic ticket machine and a big sign with the station’s name. It was completely empty, save for the two of us. We were also in a lower level than the roads nearby: there were about fifty steps and an access ramp to get to the station. To complete the feeling of isolation, the whole area was surrounded by trees, so that the road and the cars passing above were not visible for those standing at the platforms. It was the kind of place that could have a really nice atmosphere if it was bustling with people, or at least with some kind of animal life that made constant ‘nature-y’ sounds. While we were there, however, we could not see or hear any other living soul, and the place became downright creepy, even with the sun still shining in the sky.

“Are you coming home with me?” Oli asked, sitting in one of the three metal benches positioned near the station’s name sign. I stood next to him, not willing to freeze certain key areas of my body in the cold metal of the seats. Even if it was still relatively warm for this time of the year, those benches were colder than what I could comfortably handle. Oli did not seem bothered, though.

“Yes. I don’t feel like going home anymore nowadays.” Particularly after a day like today, when I was once again faced with the fact that my parents would willingly sacrifice my wellbeing to make me fit their expectations. The more time I spent with Oli, his family, and our friends, the more I believed that I should not go back home. I could not bring myself to live with people who were constantly threatening my identity, or sleep in a room that held so many triggering memories.

“I understand. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, we won’t force you back to your parents.” Oli said the word ‘parents’ like it left some bad taste in his mouth. I could not blame him; sometimes when I thought about my father I felt a mixture of agonising fear and repulsion, and an instinctive need to run away.

“I don’t want to be a burden.” I had effectively been free-loading at Oli for weeks now. It was not fair that I imposed my presence on them and forced them to use their own resources to feed me and keep me alive. “I guess I’ll try to get a job and help you out more.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not a burden, financial, or otherwise.” Oli pulled me closer, grabbing my waist until we were side by side and rested his head on my hips. “We’ll help you out for as long as you need.”

“That’s good to hear. Thank you.” Hopefully it would keep me from worrying too much about my future for the time being. Oli’s home had become a safe place for me, and I had learned to trust his family to a degree, though I still did not want to tell them everything my father did to me.

“No problem. I like to have you around all the time. It helps my self-confidence.” Oli buried his face in my hips. It tickled me a little, but I tried not to move away.

“Really? Thanks, I guess.”

“Please be with me when I talk to my parents.” Oli hugged me tightly, and I did my best to hug him back, though it was a bit awkward because of the accentuated height difference. My boyfriend seemed to be in a state of near panic, and I realised he had probably been thinking about it since we left Luce’s. “I don’t want to face them on my own.”

“Sure, I’ll do what you want me to, as much as I can.”

“Just be there, I guess, and help me explain things if I forget how to speak.” I nodded to Oli, though I was not sure how I would be able to explain to Oli’s parents what it was like to be transgender when I was not trans myself. I started planning some sort of speech to organise my thoughts, and it gave me an idea.

“Do you want to rehearse your coming out? We can make up some kind of speech, and then you can memorise it, and hopefully it will be harder to forget what you want to say. Planning ahead will probably make it easier.”

Oli got up to face me. He seemed to be thinking about my suggestion, or maybe already planning the beginning of his coming out speech. I could tell that even though he was facing me, he was not really seeing me as such. Finally, after seventeen seconds (I was able to tell because of the station’s electronic clock shining over my head), he made up his mind. “I guess it could work. I have no idea how to bring it up to them, though.”

“We can worry about it later. Let’s think about what you’re going to say once we start the conversation.” We spent the next twenty minutes planning and memorising Oli’s coming out. Once the train arrived, we stopped talking loudly about it, but, judging by my boyfriend’s silence and general air of concentration, he was still trying to memorise his speech during the ride. I settled for looking out of the window for the entire journey. At this time of the year the sun was still shining brightly, even though it was almost eight at night.

Some people would say that sunshine in this part of the country was in itself a miracle, never mind the time of the year. Others would think of the sunshine as some kind of positive omen because of some very obvious symbolisms. In different situations, I would probably have believed both to be true. Now, though, as I sat with one arm around Oli’s shoulders, trying to somehow show I was there for him, and worrying about his wellbeing, I was just glad that the sun was there to let me see the city passing through the window. It was what mostly kept my own nerves in check.

(...)

Counting our wait at the station, it took us more than an hour to arrive at Oli’s house. When we got there, the rest of the family had finished preparing dinner and they were just waiting for us to start eating. I tried to apologise for being so late, but Ms Savage cut me off before I could say more than two words. “I know you were out doing important things, so you are not in any kind of trouble. Now come, let’s enjoy a good meal.”

“I wish you said that to me more often,” Sam grumbled as Oli and I took our seats. His mother rolled her eyes.

“I will if you actually have real reasons to be late for dinner. Getting wrapped up in your games doesn’t count.” Sam made a cute noise of discontent. “Olivia and Oscar were doing important things.”

“You don’t even know what they were doing,” Sam continued to argue, obviously not happy that an older sibling got more privileges than he did. As an only child, I watched their discussion with certain amusement. This was not something I was used to.

“I trust them. Olivia is a good daughter; she is responsible and honest. I know that whatever she was doing with Oscar was something worthy of her time.” Mr Viñas was making a great effort not to laugh, but I could tell Oli was becoming more and more distraught as the mother-son ‘argument’ carried on.

“Olivia this, Olivia that, it’s always about her! She’s not even that cool.”

Whatever Ms Savage was planning to answer, she never got a chance to. Oli sprung out of his chair so fast it fell behind him. He ran to his room and banged the door. We heard the sound of something falling to the ground, and for a moment we thought the whole door had collapsed, but once we ran to check, it was just his name plaque that had fallen to the ground, or rather, Olivia’s name plaque.

“Olivia, are you ok?” Ms Savage asked. There was no answer. She immediately turned to me, and I felt my whole face burn with the tension. “Oscar, do you know what is going on? Is she upset?”

I wanted to tell Ms Savage that, to begin with, she should stop using the words ‘Olivia’ and ‘she’, but I could not do it. I knew exactly why Oli was upset, but I could not say it to his parents. I did not want to out Oli before he had a chance to say the things we had practiced earlier. So, instead, I tried to give Ms Savage and Mr Viñas as many clues as I could manage without spoiling everything. I had to think carefully about what I was saying, and so my answer was full of awkward pauses.

“Er… Yes, there is something bothering Oli.” His parents’ faces became even more worried, and Sam, for the first time, showed some sign of also being concerned. “I can’t tell you what it is, though… because…” I had to phrase things in my head many times before I came up with a sentence that did not involve any pronouns. I was not going to misgender my own boyfriend, even more so when he was most likely hearing everything I said. “Because Oli wants to talk to you about it… in person.” The three other people in the corridor looked at me expectantly, but there was not much else I could tell them. “Oli is kind of worried that you will not like it.”

“I don’t think mum is capable of not liking anything my sister does,” Sam commented, probably trying to lighten the mood, but it struck a nerve in me. I was fully aware that every wrong pronoun, name, or title that they got wrong was like another dagger buried in Oli’s heart. I had seen it happening before, and although I could only imagine how painful it must be, I knew it was more than anyone deserved to endure. I felt very protective of my boyfriend then, and I had to make it stop.

“Stop it. That’s part of the problem.” I told Sam, harshly. I was not planning to sound so rude, but I was feeling very angry, and only beginning to realise it. I was angry at these clueless people that were hurting my boyfriend so much, and I had to stop them no matter what.

“What? That’s she’s so perfect?” Sam asked, taken aback by my reaction, but not intimidated enough to stop. Meanwhile, Oli’s parents looked at his door and fallen name plaque expectantly, probably hoping Oli would come out of his room and talk to them.

“No. That you don’t stop saying those things.”

“What things? You’re not making sense!” Sam sounded frustrated. At least that meant we were both feeling the same thing.

“Look, just stop, ok? You’re making things worse!”

“But how can I stop if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong?” Sam was confused, frustrated, and nearly crying by this point. His parents were looking at us too. I was once again caught between trying to ease my boyfriend’s pain and outing him to his family without his consent. I was frustrated too. Oli still did not make a sound, at least not something we could hear over my shouting match with Sam.

“Just don’t say anything!”

I had not realised I was screaming. Probably neither had Sam.

But this time he heard me.

Oli probably heard me too, because his door opened just a fraction, and his coarse voice told us all to come in.

Inside, Oli’s bed was a mess. He had probably jumped on it as soon as he ran in the room. The covers were all over the place, the pillows rested in the middle of the bed with distinct wet marks on them. Oli’s face was not much better: the tear trails were still painfully visible, and his face was puffy and as red as his hair.

“What is going on?” his mother asked in a sweet, yet obviously concerned tone. She sat at the foot of the bed, while Oli pulled me to sit with him at the head. He did not dare face his parents, though. Instead, he hugged his knees and turned his back to them. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything is wrong!” Oli shouted as more tears began to fall. This was nothing like the speech we had rehearsed, but in the heat of the moment it was not so surprising. “Everything!”

“Then start from the beginning. You can tell us anything. We’ll listen to you.” Ms Savage said. She approached Oli and touched the top of his head tentatively, and once he relaxed against her body, she began to gently caress his hair. Oli searched for my hand and held it strongly.

“Yeah, we want to help you!” Sam added. It was touching for me to see that the obnoxious kid could still be so concerned about Oli. They all cared for him. I felt a stab of jealousy in the corner of my mind, but I quickly brushed it aside. This was not the moment to compare our families.

“I’m not your daughter,” Oli started, echoing Luce’s coming out story. “This is all wrong. I’m not a girl; I don’t want to be one. It’s not me. I hate myself. I hate this body. It’s all wrong.” Oli almost crushed my hand, but I didn’t complain. He looked more frail and vulnerable than I had ever seen him. It took his mother only two seconds or so to react, but in those two seconds I felt like my heart was being ripped to shreds by such a sight. It was also in those two seconds that I decided that if Oli’s parents did not react well, I would fight them and argue with them until they accepted Oli, or at least until I could find us a safe place to stay.

But thankfully none of this was necessary. “It is ok, Oli. You don’t need to be our daughter if you don’t want to.” Ms Savage hugged her child. Oli let go of me and hugged her back. They were both crying now, and so were Mr Viñas and Sam. I forced myself to look away from them, even as they approached the bed. “Do you want to be our son instead?” Oli nodded, though his head was barely visible under his mother’s arms. “And do you still want to be called Oli? Or you have a new name?”

“Oliver,” he said. None of this was going according to our plan, but I was beginning to calm down. Despite her tears, Ms Savage and her husband were very calm and secure. They did not sound threatening, and they seemed to know what was going on already, despite Oli’s short confession.

“It’s a nice name,” Mr Viñas finally spoke. “It is what we would’ve called you if… if…” He seemed to be having trouble phrasing the rest of his thoughts, so his wife took over.

“If the doctors hadn’t lied to us when you were born,” Ms Savage smiled slightly. Oli let out a relieved laugh. “How long have you known?”

“Since the new school year started. It was the first time I heard about trans stuff, and the first time I understood why everything always felt so wrong about me. I used to think it was because I was the only girl who knew I didn’t have to like girl stuff, but it’s much more than that.”

“I see.” Ms Savage was still hugging Oli. “I don’t know much about trans stuff right now, I just came across a couple of articles a while ago. It seemed like something important to come to grips with, so I tried to educate myself at least a little bit. I can see how all this gender stuff and our feminist beliefs could get mixed up in your head, but I don’t think one denies the other. I won’t force you to be a girl just to prove a point. If you are a guy, then you are a guy.”

“We love you, Oliver.” Mr Viñas said. “We loved you when you were just our daughter, we loved you when we thought you could be our lesbian daughter, and we’ll love you just the same as our gay son.” Oli laughed again, and this time Sam joined in. It was father and sons’ turn to hug, and as I watched them, the pain in my chest became stronger, despite my relief that everything was going so well.

“Thanks, dad. I love you too.”

“I’m sorry we hurt you all this time.” Ms Savage spoke again. The four of them had moved to stand in a family hug while I watched from the bed.

“It’s ok now, I guess…” Oli answered. He finally noticed that I was still sitting, and looked absolutely shocked. “Oscar, come here! You’re part of the family too!”

And so the five of us hugged for a long time. Tears were still flowing, but we were all smiling, relieved that the worst was over. Oli’s parents had not rejected him, Sam was thrilled at having a big brother, despite his mother’s scolding that he was being sexist, and I had begun to feel that maybe I belonged here too.

(...)

Later, when the family hug was over and we were ready to leave the room, Sam found the ‘Olivia’ plaque on the ground. “Look, I bet Oliver did it on purpose!” He beamed. “If you’re giving him a new one, can I get a new plaque too? And can it say Master of the Universe instead?”

“No, Sam, we already discussed this. We can’t find plaques that say Master of the Universe in them, but you can make your own if you want it so bad.” Ms Savage rolled her eyes. I was expecting her to tell Sam that he had to settle for his boring name, but I guess my surprises for the day were not over yet.

We then had a happy family dinner (though the food had gone cold) in which Oli told his parents about where to look for help and what he needed to start his transition. Ms Savage and Mr Viñas were also willing to talk to Charlie’s and Luce’s parents and to the Headmistress to see what else could be done. The whole family was very keen to help Oli, and I felt happy and relieved for them. Later on, we looked on the internet for the right name plaque, and Oli went to bed grinning from ear to ear.

“Oscar, can you call me Oliver now?” he asked, just as we turned off the lights and prepared to sleep.

“Yes, why?” It was not that I was not happy to do it, but I was wondering why he would change from a nickname to a long name, when it was usually the other way around.

“Because Oli is ambiguous. We were using it until now because I didn’t want my family to know what was going on. Now I want people to know for sure I’m a guy. I want to make it clear to everyone.” Oliver smiled. I could feel it even the darkness.

“You thought about it before, right?” When he spoke, it felt like he had been thinking about it for a while. I was right.

“Yeah, since I started to think about what it would be like to come out to my family.”

“Ok, then. Good night, Oliver.”

“Good night, Oscar.”