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MidReal Story
The Boyfriend Effect
Scenario:man sees what his life would have been like were he born a woman
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Ethan
and determined. Ethan often reflects on his life choices and the path not taken, wondering what his life would have been like if he had been born as a woman. He struggles with the death of his mother, who raised him solo after divorcing his father. Despite the challenges, Ethan remains focused on his work and dreams of owning his own garage.
Caleb
and loyal. Caleb looks up to Ethan, learning the trade from him with zeal. His dedication is evident as he tackles complex tasks with passion. Despite his youth, Caleb's skills are impressive, and he plays a crucial role in maintaining the business running smoothly.
Ethan's Father
and enigmatic. The reasons for their separation remain unknown to Ethan, fueling speculation and emotions that linger throughout his life. His presence looms as a potential unresolved chapter in Ethan's personal history.
Sometimes I think about what my life would be like if I’d been born a woman.
I don’t know why the thought occurs to me, but it does.
I see myself in a pastel-colored bedroom, playing with dolls on the carpet.
My mother reads me stories and tucks me into bed at night.
I go to school and learn about makeup and boys.
I get a part-time job as a waitress and fall in love with a cook.
We get married young, raise two kids, and have a little house on the outskirts of town.
It’s not a bad life.
And sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my father had stuck around after the divorce.
Would my life have been different?
Would I have gone to college, learned a trade?
Would I still be living with my mother?
But that’s where the thoughts stop because I was not born a woman.
I was born a man, and my life took the path it did, for better or for worse.
Caleb slams the hood of the car he’s working on and grins at me.
"Got it running," he says.
"Nice work."
Caleb is one of my two apprentices.
He’s an eager learner and has a real knack for the trade.
The other guy, Preston, is more laid back but just as good.
I finish up my shift at the garage, say goodbye to Maggie, who runs the front desk.
She invites me to get coffee with her at the diner, but I decline.
My head is throbbing, and I need to get home.
It started this afternoon, a pressure behind my eyes that I can’t explain.
I’ve never had a headache like it before.
When I get home, I take two aspirin and go straight to bed.
My body feels heavy and tender, like I’ve been run over by a truck.
I drift in and out of consciousness throughout the night, unable to sleep properly.
Every time I move, dull waves of pain ripple through my chest and hips.
The sheets feel rough against my skin, which is growing increasingly sensitive.
My alarm goes off at 6:00 AM, and I reach over to turn it off.
But my arm looks wrong somehow.
Smaller and softer than usual.
I sit up and look down at myself, but it’s too dark to see anything clearly. My heart starts racing as I throw off the covers and stumble into the bathroom.
I flip on the light switch and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
A woman’s face stares back at me.
I stare at my reflection, hands trembling as they trace the unfamiliar curves of my face.
My jaw is softer, my eyelashes longer.
My nose is smaller, and my lips are fuller.
The bathroom feels smaller than usual, and my clothes hang differently on the back of the door.
Even my breathing sounds different in my ears.
I grip the edge of the sink and study this new face.
It’s still me, but it’s not me.
I can see myself in the features, but it’s like looking at a distant cousin or a sister I never knew I had.
My wedding ring slides loosely on my finger, and I realize that even my hands have changed shape.
The initial panic subsides as I take in more details.
I can see my mother in this face - her gentle eyes, her curved nose, her full lips.
It’s like looking at an old photograph from when she was younger. My legs feel weak, and I sit down on the edge of the bathtub.
The morning sun streams through the window, warming my skin.
I hear a soft knock on the door, and Maggie's voice calls out, "Hey, you in there? You didn't show up for work, and I got worried."
I swallow hard, trying to steady my voice. "Maggie, something's happened... I don't know how to explain it."
There's a pause before she responds, her tone shifting from concern to urgency. "Open the door, let me see."