Becoming Fifi: Chronicle of Change 37

May 8th,

Dear Journal,

Last night was a whirlwind that left me too drained to pick up a pen and jot down my thoughts. It was also an unexpected surrender to a world I've been resisting, yet slowly adapting to all this time. For the occasion, I chose a bold outfit for David but one perfect for Fifi - a sleek, midnight blue velvet minidress that clung to every curve - some created by padding, some by diet and exercise.

As Kevin and I settled into the darkened cinema, the anonymity of the setting allowed me to let down my guard. When he draped his arm around my shoulders, a startling warmth spread throughout my scantily-clad body. His casual touches to my bare arm or knee were electric, stirring feelings I''ve been desperately trying to deny. By the time we moved on to drinks, the evening had settled into an exchange of smiles and soft laughs, the air charged with an undeniable attraction. When his lips finally met mine, I didn't pull away; instead, I leaned into the kiss, swept up in the intoxicating blend of fear and desire.

Today began like any other in this strange, new reality of mine, but with an added layer of fatigue from last night's endeavours. After a shower, I picked out a simple outfit: a cream-coloured silk blouse that felt slippery to the touch. I paired it with a gold pleated skirt that sat high on my waist. After styling my hair and applying my makeup, I slipped my feet into my Biancas - shoes that once symbolized my entrapment but now feel like a familiar extension of myself - before setting off for the bridal salon.

This morning was unusually quiet - a welcome change from the recent hustle and bustle. With customers few and far between, I tried to keep myself busy - rearranging the dresses, taking a thorough stock check, and doing my utmost to avoid Annisa’s inquisitive gaze. I could tell she was eager for details about my evening, wanting information I was neither ready to divulge nor fully process

The moment captured in today's sketch happened just before lunch, as my dramatic doll-like eyes caught my girlish reflection in the large, ornate mirror on the shop floor. It stopped me dead in my tracks, sending the click of my high heels echoing throughout the quiet space. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen my reflection today, however something about that moment was different - it was a moment of retrospection. Standing there, studying the image of a chic, feminine woman perched atop sky-high heels, I realized how much I had changed.

(See image 37)

The mental toll this experience has taken on my psyche is unknown at this time. However, staring at me from behind the glass, the physical transformation was unmissable. When I arrived in Jakarta, I was just plain old David, a man ready for a year of adventure and fun. However, just over two months later, there I was in the mirror - a captivating fashionista working in a bridal store and pretending to be French, my face taut with Botox, and my crippled feet only able to totter around whilst squeezed into the highest of heels. 

As I gazed at my feminized reflection, a flood of memories washed over me - I recalled each step I had willingly taken to reach that point in time. They had seemed insignificant at the time, but together, each small step had accumulated into the feminine beauty known as Fifi - me!

While I stood there, frozen in time, wondering if the real Fifi was even half as feminine as my version of her, my reflective moment did not go unnoticed by Annisa. She suggested we retreat for a coffee in the back, and I gladly accepted. The seclusion provided a perfect setting for her to delve into the details of my date with Kevin. Reluctantly, I recounted the evening’s events and the kisses we shared, causing her to go giddy with joy. However, when she asked if Kevin and I were now a couple, I took a deep breath, met her gaze squarely, and reiterated my desire to return home shortly.

Annisa reacted with understanding. She nodded before expressing how wonderful it had been to work with me, praising my creative ideas and eye for detail - qualities she admittedly didn't possess herself. Her words were flattering and filled me with a warm sense of accomplishment. Yet, her next words quickly chilled that warmth. Telling me that I was a natural, and born to work in the bridal industry, a notion that still sits uncomfortably with me.

Our conversation took an unexpected turn when Annisa asked if I felt it was a good time for her to expand the business. I paused, initially puzzled by her question - why was she consulting me on such an important decision? Nevertheless, I responded positively, indicating that expansion could be feasible with the right support. A huge smile crossed her face upon hearing this, a reaction that confused me, but one I was happy to see. But then, as our coffee cups were nearly empty, Annisa threw in a curveball - mentioning how this Saturday night would be a special one and suggesting I pick out some eye-catching to wear. Baffled, I inquired why, to which she responded with a light laugh "It’s your birthday, silly. We’re having a party!" The mention of a party took me by surprise. It wasn’t my birthday she was referring to, but Fifi’s! - A fact Annisa had learned from her birth certificate.

So, it looks like this Saturday, I’ll be celebrating Fifi’s birthday as Fifi! The thought of being the centre of attention - dolled up like a princess, terrifies and intrigues me. Will I feel more like a fraud than ever before, or, perhaps more worryingly, will it feel natural? And then there’s Kevin to consider. Should I invite him to this surreal celebration? Or will that just complicate matters further?