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Mari didn’t seem to have any hang-ups about me using the bathroom or showering in her body. She explained that she had accepted her body was now technically mine and that it would impractical to police it, especially on intimate things. Part of me found this comforting (knowing I’d have as much breathing room as I needed to adapt) but part of me also found this terrifying -- that this was, in fact, my body now.
It was also good to have her around for basic instructional things. Stuff I probably wouldn’t have even thought of like wiping properly after peeing or putting on a bra. She did try to get me to wear a skirt or dress for work; I told her they did send an email to tell us there would be no dress code for a while, and I was going to opt for a sweatshirt.
As she gave me more and more instructions, I realized it was probably the most we had actually talked since we swapped. The amount of knowledge she had to pass down about being a woman seemed immense. It’s not like I could think of anything special to tell her about being a man!
I put on the sweatshirt and some jeans, and we headed into work.