"Hi dad," the voice of my daughter Claire sounded on my phone message bank, "I need to talk about Lara, can I come over Saturday morning?"
"Of course, darling, how about 9?" I texted back.
Without knowing exactly what the problem was, I had a good idea.
About twelve months ago, Claire broke the news to me that her husband Larry was transitioning to female.
This was a complete and utter shock to me. Larry was not your macho, sportsman type; he was a gentle, kind man and I was very fond of him and outwardly, he and Claire had a happy relationship. They had a beautiful two-year-old daughter, Emma, who they doted over, as did I, a mortgage and good jobs. They seemed to be set for life.
When Claire told me that Larry was transitioning, I was in shock. A fifty year old, divorced male, I considered myself a man of the world. Yes, I was aware that sexuality is not a cut and dried male/ female scenario. At birth, gender can be ambiguous, and it is not uncommon for a child to be raised as a gender opposite to what they felt themselves to be. I accepted that, at some stage, that person would wish to live as the person those gender they identified with. Truly, I did not consider myself transphobic and when Claire advised me of Larry's intentions, I supported his decision; albeit that there were consequences that flooded my thoughts, consequences that effected Claire and Larry more than me.
Back then, Claire had told me that Larry now wanted to be known by the name Lara. Fine, I respected that and when they visited, I addressed her as Lara, and I had to consciously use the correct pronoun and for the most part I did not slip up. Lara dressed as a woman and had been on hormone treatment for that period and there were obvious changes to her body, certainly she was looking more feminine.
I thought how difficult it would be for my daughter to accept this massive change in her life.
Sure, there was the massive change for Lara too, but Claire is my flesh and blood, and her happiness is paramount in my thoughts. Ideally, this transition was going to be something that both found to be a positive thing, an outcome where both were happy.
Saturday arrived and right on nine o'clock, Claire knocked on the front door.
"Hello darling, come in," I welcomed her.
"Hi dad," Claire replied, kissing me tenderly on my cheek.
Claire did not seem her bubbly self.
"How about a coffee?" I offered, to which she agreed, so we sat in the kitchen as the early morning sun streamed through the door leading to the patio.
Claire was in no mood for small talk.
"Dad, Lara is booked in to have genital surgery. They are going to remove her penis and testicles," Claire advised in a very matter of fact manner. I believe she did this in an attempt to remain as emotionally detached as possible as she advised me. Despite her best effort, she was visibly shaken, and I could see tears welling in her eyes. I moved to sit beside her and placed my arms around her shoulder.
"Oh Claire," I cried, "I guess you knew this day was coming, but the realisation that this is such a final decision must be hard to accept."
"Oh dad, it has been," Claire replied her voice choking with tears," but you don't know the half of it. Lara despises her cock. She sees it as a traitor to her body. She says this surgery will rid her of the constant reminder that she has been cheated of her rightful gender."
I was lost for words. I wanted to say something to help Claire come to grips with this momentous decision. Gratefully, Claire spoke again.
"We haven't had sex in over six months," Claire continued, "we can cuddle, but she doesn't get hard, she won't let me touch her cock. I feel that we no longer have that close, loving bond. Don't get me wrong, I love Lara, but things have changed that I didn't want to change. Maybe after the operation, she will be happier and she will let me back in emotionally. I hope with all my heart dad."
I felt a rage build within me. As much as I respected Lara's decision, I now saw this gigantic consequence. There was now emotional turmoil, my darling daughter was hurting as the love that she gave so freely to her partner was now in jeopardy of being compromised. She had supported Lara fully and now she had to accept, like it or not, a change in the fabric of their relationship.
Claire was a young woman in the prime of her life at 25 years old. She was beautiful, both physically and the way she interacted with people. She had her sexual needs that were now being denied her. It was unfair, my heart bled for her.
"Dad, I know it sounds selfish, but I'm not sure how I am going to cope without a sex life. Lara said that I can have affairs, even use male escorts," Claire blubbered, "but that sounds so tawdry and not what I want. Sex is not some sort of mechanical release, it is a loving act, I'm not just going to go hump strangers. "
Claire sat silently. She seemed exhausted from opening her heart to me.
I held her tight and rocked her gently. I felt hopeless, that I had somehow failed in providing the happiness that she so richly deserved.
I got up and made another coffee for each of us. We changed the subject and talked about more mundane things. Eventually it was time to go.
"Anyway dad, I'll go now, but I have a favour to ask," Claire said, "Lara is going into hospital for the operation in two weeks. She will be in hospital for a few days. Can I come and stay with you, I think I am going to need some emotional support. Mum said that she would look after Emma."
"Of course, darling, you know that I am here for you, I will do whatever I can," I replied honestly.
Claire left and I went to the liquor cabinet and poured myself a stiff scotch. This talk with Claire had drained me to the core. I could not begin to know what was going through her head, all I knew was that she was hurting, and she was calling out to me for help. I was not going to let her down.
***
I kept in close contact with Claire over the next two weeks, to make sure that she was holding up. She sounded cheery enough, putting on a brave face, but said she was looking forward to spending time with me.
The doorbell rang and I went to answer it, knowing that it was Claire, arriving for her stay.
"Hello darling, here let me take your bag," I smiled as Claire handed over her small valise.
"Thanks again dad, for putting me up, I really appreciate it," Claire beamed.
"It is my pleasure, you know that I would do anything for you, I replied, taking Claire in my arms and giving her the biggest of hugs.
It was early afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly on a hot mid-summer day.
"Did you bring your swimmers Claire, we can have a dip later," I said.
"Yep I packed my bikini, it hasn't seen the light of day this season, things have been a bit hectic," Claire responded.
"I know Claire, so you just relax and let me look after you," I added.
Claire went to her old bedroom and unpacked, while I opened a bottle of white wine as a welcoming drink.
Claire returned a few minutes later. She was dressed only in a long white t shirt, which covered her bikini. Clearly, she was keen to have a dip in the pool and who could blame her.
" Ready for a swim I see; let's take the drink out to the pool," I suggested.
We sat in the shade of the patio, sipping the refreshing wine.
"I'll just go put my swimming costume on, can't be swimming nude like I normally do here" I joked after I had finished the first glass.
"No need to do things differently just because I am here dad," Claire replied, "it wouldn't bother me. Anyway, who knows when I am going to see a naked man anytime soon, "she added displaying a mischievous sense of dark humour.
"Oh Claire," I reassured her, "I'm sure all is not lost."
