A Sunday with Dr. White
The hour-plus ride to Columbus felt like just minutes to Quinn. Budding trees and greening grass brightened the world without her. The car ride was just as crushing as ever.
The radio mumbled too low for either Quinn or her mother to hear. She slumped in her seat most of the way, a hood pulled up and strands of blonde shadowing her eyes.
She'd considered disappearing that Saturday night. Spending the night in her car somewhere. Ensuring that she'd be missing as her mother prepared to drive to Columbus. Pretending that she'd never seen the note. But the effort would be too much and the payoff not enough.
Her history with Dr. White told her that this meeting would be for the best. They were in the depths of the most difficult point in her life. She'd just decimated her only friend into what she was sure was some scandalized state from which they'd never recover.
She'd drowned herself in shame, self-loathing, uncontrollable anger, paranoia, and regret. She'd been saved once before. In Columbus. By her mother and Dr. White. They'd determined that a change in location would be best for her. Her mom had gotten two jobs in Lima to support them. Dr. White had agreed to extended hours on Wednesday to continue seeing her in Columbus.
It again came down to the only two people who'd ever buoyed her.
She'd go to Dr. White's office. She'd tell him the truth. Or, some version of the truth. She wracked her mind for the words that would match the truth. A line from a poem from English 3, back at Ben Franklin High came into view - Whatever satisfies the soul is truth. She'd tell Dr. White what she knew. She'd tell him how she felt. She'd tell him everything inside of her. That would be her truth.
The office was dark when they entered. Dr. White sat in the waiting room, reading the Sunday paper in clothes more casual than Quinn had ever seen him wear.
"Len...I..." Quinn heard a choke from her mom and looked over to find her face screwed up in grief. She pulled the hoodie back over her head and cast her eyes down to the ground. She couldn't remember if she'd ever seen her mother cry.
"It's ok. It's ok, Judy. Come on," he came to grab Quinn's mother's hand and led her into the office. Quinn followed quietly behind.
Her mother was dabbing at her eyes a little by the time Quinn looked up at her from the couch where they both sat. Dr. White had taken a seat in the armchair Quinn usually saw him sit in during their sessions. His blue jeans and button-down flannel shirt seemed out of place in the office, Quinn decided.
The room was quiet for quiet a while except for a few sniffles from Quinn's mom and Dr. White clearing his throat once or twice. Quinn kept her eyes steadily on the ground and every so often dug the tip of her sneaker into the carpet below. Lies and stories and clever methods to avoid the truth kept popping into her head. She'd had so much time to prepare for this visit. She'd been thinking so hard recently about a way to just avoid it all. But every time a lie felt too real, she'd push it away. She had to remind herself that today was about the truth.
"Quinn, what's going on?" Dr. White's voice, as always, was rapt with fatherly concern. At the last session, that would have made her explode in anger. Today, it only made her sink further into the couch in shame at her previous behavior.
She looked up briefly, just to read his face, before sharply darting them back to the floor.
She shook her head as she recalled the behavior that had transpired since her last visit to Dr. White. She'd lied to Dr. White about nearly everything in her last visit. She'd refused to talk to a man who'd cared for her more than any other man in her life. She'd yelled at her mother and sobbed herself to sleep perched atop the stairs in her house. She'd skipped school for two straight days for no other reason than the constant paranoia that wracked her brain when she thought about simultaneously maintaining a friendship with Rachel and touching herself at night thinking about Rachel. The paranoia along with self-loathing had reached such a point that when Rachel invited Quinn to her house, she'd boiled over with rage. She'd believed through her entire visit to Rachel's that Rachel did not truly want her friendship. Rachel knew the truth about her and thus, couldn't possibly want to maintain a real friendship. Certainly not anything more. Which was all Quinn could think about. Something more.
She recounted most parts of the week to Dr. White. But, with her mother in the room, she left out many of the parts about Rachel. Instead, Saturday's events became just another day of self-loathing and anger. At least so long as her mother remained. Dr. White looked on with concern, mumbling "Mmmhmmm" and "I see" once in a while. While she never looked over at her mother, Quinn never felt her mother's eyes on her. She did occasionally see her mother dab at her face with a tissue.
At the end, after a bout of silence and a tremendous weight lifted from Quinn's soul, Dr. White finally spoke: "Ok, Quinn. Let's take some time between the two of us. Judy, I'm going to ask for you to give us some time and I'll call you back in a little bit."
When they were left to their own, Dr. White resumed. "Is there anything going on that you didn't want your mother to hear, Quinn? I know there are certain things that are more difficult to talk about in front of family."
Her eyes ducked to the ground again. All of her stories and lies flooded her mind, making it nearly impossible to block them out. After a moment and a deep sigh, as if to expel the untruths, she began.
"I lied to you last week, Dr. White." Her voice dipped so that her words were barely audible. "I...my body...it's reacting."
Dr. White's brows furrowed for a moment, but found recognition as he nodded. His silence signaled Quinn to continue.
"I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want it to do anything. It was never supposed to do anything. But it did. And it was because...of...a friend." The last two words were barely a whisper. Dr. White must have read her lips.
"It's the body's natural reaction sometimes, Quinn. That doesn't mean you're a bad person or a bad friend."
She felt her head begin to shake back and forth before she could put words to her thoughts. "It does. You're not supposed to do that to your friends. It's disgusting. How am I supposed to look her in the eyes?"
She nearly choked when it clicked that she'd said her. Dr. White's face, of course, hadn't changed, but she'd left herself just enough time after that sentence to really think about what she'd just said. Her. Rachel. They'd never talked about sexual attraction. Dr. White had never asked if Quinn liked boys or girls. The topic had never even reared its head.
She felt sick. As if all of her secrets had just been tortured out of her.
"I know it feels strange, but there are times when we can't help the body's natural urges. As much as we want control, there are times when instinct takes over." He paused for just enough time to let his words sink in, but not enough for Quinn to continue dwelling in the self-loathing of masturbating to fantasies about her Rachel.
"I believe that these sudden changes - both mental and physical - are coming as a result of the changing testosterone levels in your body now that you're off the medicine. I know it's scary having all of these sudden feelings. Feelings of shame, abrupt anger, violent thoughts, depression. Some of these are a direct result of the change in testosterone levels and some of these feelings may be a result of just feeling out of sorts."
"I'm not a good person when I'm like this, Dr. White. If being on the medicine wasn't good for me, look at what being off of it is doing for me." Her voice rose as she felt more and more helpless discussing the state of her body.
Dr. White took some time to process Quinn's thoughts. As if out of nowhere, he straightened his back and asked a question that Quinn thought quite out of place.
"In an ideal world, Quinn, tell me about your life." He fingered the pen and pad that sat atop his lap.
First, it took her a moment to settle into a new line of conversation. Then, she was caught between a realization that an ideal world was all that existed and an ideal world would never exist. She'd thought about her perfect life over and over again - during those boring rudimentary writing classes in Columbus, on her long drives back from Dr. White's regular Wednesday night appointment, when her mind wandered between calculus problem sets. But the reality of that ideal life simmered below the surface always. No one would ever love her. If the people who created her couldn't love her, then how could she expect anyone to love her? The world would never be ideal.
"An ideal world doesn't exist, Dr. White." She answered in monotone.
"Humor me then." He'd eschewed his pen and kept his eyes trained on her.
She heaved a deep sigh. It pained her to admit her longings. In their sessions, they'd never made it past where Quinn might go after high school graduation.
"A successful job. Getting to travel. Some good friends."
Dr. White nodded. "A successful job. Anything in particular?"
"I guess maybe something with my drums, if I'm good enough." She fell silent for a moment when she remembered that her drum kit was still at Rachel's house. She wondered if there was any way to recover it without having to see or talk to Rachel or her dads.
"Well this is an ideal world, so let's assume you're good enough." He smiled back at her. "Would you like to travel anywhere in particular?"
"I don't really have anywhere in particular in mind, I guess. Just places. I want to see what people are like outside of here."
"Outside of Ohio, you mean?"
"Yeah, like how people act and what they look like and what they think." Her sneaker twitched against the carpet.
"There's a whole brilliant world out there waiting for you, Quinn. We don't need an ideal world to have that. You're lucky." He smiled again, reassuring her. "And good friends?"
"Yes," Quinn felt the cold creep up her limbs and her jaw begin to clench.
"Any friends we've ever talked about? What about from your band?"
Quinn shook her head, "No." Her jaw was still clenched but she forced herself to loosen it.
"And what about your family - your mom?"
Quinn wondered if her mother was listening outside of the door. "I want to know my mom. I want to talk to her. We do sometimes, like when we stopped at Hal's after that appointment we both came to. But I feel like we're supposed to talk more. That she's supposed to know more about what's going on in my life."
"I understand, Quinn." He responded. His expression was difficult to read, Quinn decided. She hoped that information didn't make it back to her mother.
"What about having a family of your own?"
This was an ideal world. In the past five years, she'd never really thought much of it. She'd kind of assumed that she'd have a family, but they were always this nameless, faceless bunch that lived in her house while she traveled the world as a rock star. In the past two weeks, her ideal family had begun to shed its hidden identity. Her ideal family had dark brown hair clogging the bathtub drains and deep brown eyes that made her catch her breath.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Well, you don't have to have a family of your own. It's not a requirement." Dr. White let out a little chuckle, but settled quickly when he saw the still pained expression on Quinn's face.
"I want one." She determinedly looked at her shoe grinding into the rug beneath her.
"Have you ever thought about who you might like to settle down with? Like the type of person, I mean?" Dr. White's eyes were studying her again.
"Well...someone kind. Thoughtful. Accepting." She searched her mind for the list of character traits she'd seen on the poster in English class.
"Have you given a gender to this person?" Dr. White's voice quieted with this question.
"I guess." She paused for a while, considering the consequences of her statement. It didn't matter now. The English 3 Whitman poem came back to mind. Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.
"And?"
"Lately, I've thought a lot about girls." The next line was barely a whisper. "A girl." An image of Rachel came to her mind. Sitting on the worn couch in her basement with the calculus textbook on her lap. Her face twisted in hurt and something - awe, maybe? Quinn's jaw clenched and her right hand found the fabric of the couch in a firm grip.
It was almost like Dr. White didn't even hear her say that she thought she was interested in girls. His face made no movement. He acknowledged nothing. He just continued his questions, the same pace as before.
"And when you think about your future, what does your spouse think of your body?"
Her vision of the ideal world and the real world crashed back together. What's the point in thinking about an ideal world if it would never exist? What was Dr. White getting at? Her brow scrunched against her eyes until she could almost see it, but she'd resigned to the truth.
"She loves me. She appreciates me, no matter what. It doesn't matter and she tells me that. No, she makes me feel that. She doesn't need to tell me that cause she makes me feel it."
Dr. White's brain churned as he listened to Quinn's answer. He let the silence sit for a while, his therapist tactic to see if she'd say anymore. Quinn heaved a little at her admission.
"Do you think...I'm wondering..." It was rare for Dr. White to trip over his words like this. Quinn sat forward, cautiously grabbing at the fabric of the arm of the couch. "Do you think that it's possible for you to view your body that way right now?"
Quinn's brow quickly furrowed as she gripped the arm of the couch until her knuckles whitened. "What do you mean?"
"You said that 'she appreciates me, no matter what.'" Quinn nodded. "That 'it doesn't matter.'" She nodded at him again, waiting eagerly and a little dreadfully for the question.
"Do you think that you could ever feel that way about your body in its current form?"
Quinn had to check herself. She felt a rage build inside her at that question. How could he ask that? He'd been listening to her complain about her body for years. Years. He'd prescribed her medicine to appease her shame with her body. He'd told her about surgeries that she could get and hormones that she could take when she was old enough.
This session was her chance at resolution, she reminded herself. She'd have to tame the rage. She'd have to listen to his questions and answer honestly. Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.
"No, I can't." It was what she'd been feeling for years, why would that feeling change now?
"Talk to me about that a little more. Obviously, only you know how you feel about your body. Help me understand a little bit better."
"I can't like my body cause this isn't what I'm supposed to look like as a girl. Girls don't have a...anything...hanging between their legs. And any girl who might be interested in more would just be disgusted because they're expecting me to be a girl. I'm a freak show." Quinn hoped that she'd broken it down enough for Dr. White. It was a shock to her body to switch from talking about her life in an ideal world to the reality of it all.
"Here's what I'm hearing," Dr. White began, now too leaning forward, just a few feet from Quinn's face as she looked intently at him. "You can't feel comfortable in your current body because it's not what your partner would expect out of your body. Is that right?"
Quinn didn't really want it to be right. She couldn't put her finger on exactly why, but she wanted to be contrary. But she couldn't think of anything that was wrong with his restatement. "Yeah, I guess."
"Have you heard of 'gender identity disorder,' Quinn? It's something that we've talked a bit about, though I don't know if we've ever put a label on it."
If anyone had checked Quinn's internet history, they'd find a wealth of sites in her cache discussing gender identity disorder. She nodded.
"Let me share some conversations I've been having with some doctors who are experts at gender identity disorder. I've been talking to a few of these doctors for a while, but we've been talking a lot more since it's seemed likely that we'd need to take you off of your meds. They said that most of their patients who have this disorder are uncomfortable in their bodies regardless of how others perceive them. Meaning that if a young man feels like he should be treated like a woman, he feels that way because that's how he feels on the inside, not because that's what other people are telling him to feel."
Quinn couldn't figure out where he was going. She turned his silence trick around on him.
"I'm saying that, through my conversations with you today, it seems lesslike you're struggling with the body that you're in and more with people accepting the body that you're in. Maybe with you accepting the body that you're in, as well."
"Dr. White," she immediately burst in, her voice cracking as she wrung her hands out in front of her. She was barely on the couch anymore as she leaned forward. "That's not..."
"Hold on a sec, Q. Hold on." Dr. White raised his hands almost in defense and waited to see if she'd continue with her interruption. When the room remained silent, he continued. "Let me give you a scenario. Answer honestly, because this is all about you. I have no stake in the decisions you make. So, the scenario. You've met the love of your life. This woman is the most beautiful, kindest, smartest woman ever. And she loves you infinitely. She sees no one else but you. She knows that you are different from many other people and she accepts it, no matter what. And, in fact, she loves you more for it." His eyebrows lifted, hoping that Quinn followed. "Would you go through surgeries and so forth to make sure that you have a 'woman's body' for this women - your parter? Or - and remember, she loves you no matter what, in fact loves you more for it - would you keep the body that you have?"
"We were talking ideal before, Dr. White. You know an ideal world doesn't exist. A woman like that doesn't exist. And if she did, she'd never fall for me." Quinn's face was red and her eyelids felt heavy.
"When it comes to love, you'd be surprised how the lines between ideal and real blend." He spoke with the kind of confidence that made Quinn wonder if he was speaking from experience.
Was she supposed to just take this man for his word? Sure, Dr. White had been in her life longer than any other man. She looked up to him most days. But the reality that she knew wouldn't allow her to fall so easily for his word.
"Maybe for you it works that way," she whispered quietly.
"How do you know that it doesn't work that way for you?" He sat at the edge of his seat now, too. Quinn looked up to see a reddened face and maybe the hint of tears in his eyes. "How do you know that it doesn't work that way for you, Quinn?"
"I don't know, Dr. White," she felt the tears burn her eyes and her throat constrict. "This is my whole life we're talking about here. It's all I've ever wanted - to be in a girl's body." She thought back to the first fight between her parents that she could remember. Arguing about whether they should treat her like a girl or a boy. Another fight - arguing about whether she should continue her sessions with Dr. White. She remembered her mother barely able to look at her at the dinner table shortly after she'd heard her father slam the front door for the last time. And she remembered the same look on her mother's face for years and years to come.
"I think it's all I've ever wanted, Dr. White." The tears ran in earnest now. She'd wanted to be another person for so long that she hadn't stopped to question it. Ever. "I don't remember." She admitted.
Dr. White took her hand and squeezed. "I know, Quinn. That's why we're having this conversation. Ever since we started these session, when you were a little kid," he smiled as he remembered a little Quinn, her feet dangling from the couch in front of him, "you just wanted to be 'normal.' We talked a lot about that. We talked about your family's break up, your mother's depression, your father's anger. You traced them all back to not being 'normal.' You believed that you - your body - was the cause of all things wrong with the Fabrays."
Quinn could only listen. The exhaustion had sunk her so far into the couch she felt the cushion slowly push forward from beneath her. Dr. White still grasped at her hand as he spoke.
"Having a surgery to make your body different will only change your body. It won't change the past, it won't change your family. It's time to really think hard on this."
Quinn's body wracked with sobs as she felt the weight of her decision. Dr. White's body thudded heavily next to her on the couch.
"It's ok. You don't need to decide now." Her sobs slowed as she listened to Dr. White. "And if you decide not to go forward with the surgery, you can always change your mind later." She felt a little relief at that.
"You just can't reverse the surgery if you decide to go forward with it now."
"Let me think."
End Part One.
AN: Gender identity disorder is real. This is not about denying or questioning that. This is one fictional story about one fictional character.