And so you end up traversing the obstacle course, using Christy's advice to take advantage of the powers you've been granted, transforming a few interns along the way.
"So," you ask Christy after completing the obstacle course, "where's everyone else?"
"Adult recruits are mostly kept isolated," she says. "Especially transformed adult males, which you kind of are?"
"So it wasn't this way for you," you ask. She replies, "no, it wasn't. We were a bunch of bitchy little girls - we didn't transform each other at the drop of a hat, but we transformed each other when we thought we could get away with it with our peers, and so we whittle ourselves down, but not too too much. That's what separates us from the apes - mindgames. You boys - 'you' at least until a few days ago" - hours, you think, but you don't correct her - "don't play mindgames, you beat each other down, sometimes through the political apparatus, but it's still fundamentally just a beatdown. You do not understand what it is to be human. It's lucky there are so few of you."
"...what does that leave me, then? Being the impostor I am..."
"You've got me. You'll always have me, until the day you're at a desk, and maybe even then if I like you enough. If one of two twins is turned into a dress, as long as she's used by someone who cares for her, she'll always, always outlive the other. Similarly, it's almost certain that if you don't abandon me, I'll outlive you."
You keep that in mind as you work your way through the training. Day after day, staying on site - it never does occur to you to try to contact your girlfriend, if she even still exists - periodically washing Christy, the same obstacle course, mostly the same interns, who ostensibly aren't subject to the same rules Christy was. Before too long, the sergeant has cleared you.
"Well, Rea Ash, it's time for you to face the real world, just like your accouterments couldn't." She winks at your dress. "Go forth, and 'change' the world!"
You think back over the sergeant's abuse as you fought through the course, and think back to film depictions of drill sergeants' speeches. They were always to crowds - there's no crowd for you, being so old, and having been a man, even if no documents in this universe would show it, they know it, since you told them, and they won't forget it. Still, the public doesn't need to know - you've graduated.
Shortly after your deployment, it hits you - that dress you left on the street outside your old office... it wasn't human, was it? You ask Christy.