The Angel's Touch

by Karen Michelle

 

I laid there on the bed as I had so many nights before, feeling myself and thinking.

"Oh God, why do I have to be a man? Girls are pretty, even beautiful. They have a woman’s face and body. They get to have long hair. They get to have breasts. They get to have a vagina. Oh God, I know they're body feels so good. I hate mine so much. They're pursued by men. I don't like having to be the pursuer. I wish I looked like them. I wish I had a body like theirs. I wish I could get up one morning and just be who I am inside, a woman. God, I wouldn't even complain if I could have a period like them. Then I could become pregnant some day and one day have a baby, and become a mother. Oh God, why did you have to make me a man?".

It was a very famaliar litany of feelings. I had had them so often. I was 25, and the feelings hit me almost every day. As I lay there, I began to sob softly. Why did life have to be so unfair? Sure, you never got everything you wished for, and you could never be happy all the time, but you should at least get to be happy with who and what you were. A person deserves to be happy at a basic level... with themselves. I lay there in bed trying to get to sleep, imagining what it must feel like to be a female, a woman. I had wanted it since I was 6 years old when I really became aware of who I was and wasn’t, and the feelings hadn't stopped since.

Growing up, it had been my divorced mother, my sister, and me. I had seen how my sister who was older than me had gotten to grow up. My mother, while she paid attention to me and tried to help me become a young man, just couldn't quite relate to being a boy. But she did know how to be a girl, and she lavished her knowledge on my sister. Mom had showed her how to cook, how to sew, how to be a lady. She had helped her through her puberty as her body changed. I was extremely jealous as I watched her body transforming during her puberty. All I could do was watch and wish. I felt deprived. It didn't help

that I had these strange feelings that I should have been born a girl. Why did I have them? I don't know where or how they started. They just did. Having mom being so attentive to Melissa just added insult to injury. There had been many nights I had simply cried myself to sleep. I wanted to die. I wanted to be a girl. I knew I should have been a girl. At least I would have been happy with myself.

"Oh God, you were so cruel! You made me a boy, and I hate my body and my life. I feel like dying. Why couldn't I be a girl?" I said questioning.

I lay there; sleep finally falling over me at 1:00 am. Five AM would come too soon and I had to get up and go to work. It would be the same routine.... watching all the girls at the office in their skirts or dresses, envious of them. Those thoughts even included the girls that were plain. Sure, they hadn't had all the breaks that the pretty girls had had, but they were female. Even being an ugly girl had to be better than what the fates had dealt me.

 

The next day at work was just as I knew it would be. I was sitting there at my computer working on the computer program I was writing. Ever so often, I’d see one of the women pass by, some in skirts, some in dresses, some in slacks. It didn’t matter which. Long hair, a bustline, pretty faces, I had thought about it so many times. They all looked so wonderful. As they passed by, I listened to their chit-chat and how they freely exchanged comments about their kids, their families, sometimes about their boyfriends. They were relationship-driven creatures, and I was on the outside looking in. I knew some of them were going to the restroom to deal with their monthly period. I just thought to myself, "I wish it were me.. Oh God, I wish it were me."

Luckily, I was working on an intense program, and that helped the day pass by. My mind would get involved in my work and then I was oblivious to them and to my thoughts. I was thankful for that time. All of a sudden though, I heard my friend Janet pop her head into my cubicle. I didn’t have a lot of friends at work, but I had always found it easy to talk to Janet. She had a knack for reading me, and talking to me about how I felt. I had always felt she had some sort of sixth sense, a power of the spirit you might say. She could tell me things about myself that I never told anybody, like how I disliked one of my co-workers. Even though I never said anything, she knew about those feelings, and helped me deal with the feelings and work through them. Because of that, I felt close to her as a friend, and I’d do anything for her.

"My, you look down. You know, it’s almost lunchtime. How about getting away from this place for an hour and we can talk? We can go have Chinese, your favorite" she asked me.

I didn’t have to think twice about accepting an invitation from Janet.

"Sure" I said. "Let me save my work and we’re out of here."

We left the building and got in my car. It was the manly thing to do. The man drives the woman, right? When we got to the Chinese restaurant, we ordered, and watched the waiter go off with our order. It was then that Janet took charge of the conversation.

"Mike, we’ve been friends for a couple of years now, and I must say, I’ve enjoyed your company at work, or whenever we go out to lunch. I consider you a friend, and I always try to help my friends when they’re in trouble or when they feel down. I sense that you’re really down about something very basic, and I wanted to try and help you through it."

"Janet," I replied, "I just don’t get it. How do you know these things about me? It’s like you have some sort of ESP or something. You always know when I’m not feeling quite myself. Yes, I’ve been down, but there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing anybody can do about it."

"Now how do you know that I can’t help you?" Janet replied. "You’ve always told me you thought I had some sort of sixth sense; a connection with the spirit world. Well, you want in on a little secret? You’re right, I do. And, I think I can help you with this problem".

"No, you can’t. Nobody can help me. I’ve been down about something for a long time and how I feel just won’t change. I can’t get rid of the feelings that make me down. Sure I can suppress them. Haven’t you noticed how sometimes I work 60 hours a week?. People think that’s because I’m a dedicated employee, but I’m just trying to push out the feelings and replace them with something else."

"Yes, I know that" she answered. "You try to work so hard, yet when girls walk by your cubicle, you look at them and are jealous. You wish you were them. You wish you had the life of a female. Even the other night at your apartment, you were asking God why you had to be a man. Mike, nobody should be that miserable. Being happy with what sex we are is something we should be entitled to."

I sat there stunned. How did she know this?

"What are you talking about?" I asked her trying to deny what I couldn’t believe she knew.

"Mike, don’t deny that I’m right. You’ve been miserable these last 19 years, since you were 6, ever since you became really aware of your sexuality. Admit it. You wish you were a girl. You can tell me. I’m your friend. I won’t tell anybody. I won’t judge you. You’re secret is completely safe with me, and I think I can help you."

I sat there in disbelief. How could she possibly know this? I responded by trying to change the subject, but it was no use. She was determined to steer the conversation in this direction.

"Admit it Mike, you wish you were, and have wished you were born, a female."

She grasped my hand across the table and stared into my eyes as she said these words. Her gaze penetrated my soul, and all I could do was admit the truth.

"Yes Janet, you’re absolutely right. I DO wish I were a female. But how can you help me?" I asked.

"There are things about me that I don’t share with a lot of people. Come to my apartment tonight and let me show you. Promise me that you’ll let me help you."

I sat there silent. The waiter was coming over with our order. I looked at it as he put it down in front of me.

"Mike, I’m concerned about you. People with your feelings commit suicide. Promise me you’ll come to my apartment tonight so I can help you, ok? You won’t be disappointed."

"Ok" was all I could say, and we began to eat the meal we had ordered.

 

That afternoon, I didn’t get one bit of work done. All I could think about was what Janet had said, and how she had known that I was miserable as a man. How could that be possible? How could she know my thoughts? I couldn’t get her words out of my head, and so I was thankful when 5:00 rolled around and it was time to leave.

Janet was always a morning person and she normally was at work at 6:00 am, so when I left, she was already long gone. I arrived at her house shortly after leaving work without even eating, and I was surprised when I walked in the door.

"Come on in Mike, and sit down here" she said.

The house was dimly lit with the curtains pulled shut, and candles were lit giving an eerie setting. Janet was in a sort of flowing robe, and she was sitting on a mat with her legs crossed in a sort of yoga position. She motioned for me to sit on the mat across from her.

"I want you to get comfortable, because we’re going to go on a journey; a spiritual journey" she said.

"A spiritual journey?" I asked.

"Yes, you always said I had a sixth sense. Well, you’re right. To everyone at work, I’m just Janet, and I write computer programs like you. But what they don’t know is that I have a strong spiritual side which I want to let you in on tonight. It’s how I knew about your feelings." She said.

"Yes, how did you know?" I replied.

"Sit down and I’ll show you" she answered.

I did as she asked, whereupon she lit another candle and set it in front of me.

"Mike, I want to introduce you to the spirit world, and I also want to put you in touch with your feelings. I think you’ll be glad you came here tonight. Concentrate on the candle in front of you; focus on it and listen to my voice. I want to take you on a spiritual journey to meet your destiny."

This sounded too weird, and yet it was compelling. She wanted to take me on a spiritual journey to get in touch with my feelings? I already knew what my feelings were but I decided if she knew about me, I wanted to see what this was all about. I watched as she dimmed the lights even further and then began to focus on the candle as she began to speak.

"Oh mighty creator, your servant brings to you a troubled spirit. One who was denied who she was supposed to be. We angels see these spirits many times in our eternal journey and we know their pain. This is one such spirit and I bring her in front of you to appeal to your sense of justice. Help her to find her true self, and help her to be happy. Oh mighty creator, answer us."

As I sat there concentrating on the candle and listening to Janet’s voice, I felt a tug, and then a strange sensation came over me. It was as if I was flying. Everything was in a haze. I looked around me, and then down. There I was sitting on the mat looking at the candle. I could still hear Janet going on, and yet something was different. Then Janet appeared beside me.

"This is the first step of our spiritual journey. You have reached the first level of awareness."

"What’s happening?" I heard myself say in my mind. I’m next to you, and yet I’m down there by the candle".

"Oh young one, you are so ignorant of the spirit world. You are a spirit inhabiting a physical body. Your body is down there, but your spirit has now separated from it and is with me. I am an angel who has been commanded to be on the earth and help souls in distress. I have heard your appeals to our Creator on many nights. The Creator has sent me to help you. We are ready to go on the journey I spoke of. Come and see!".

As she spoke, I felt a sort of rush, and the room disappeared. We were flying through time and space, to where I didn’t know.

 

Eventually we came to stop in some sort of world where a powerful conciousness existed. I had known as a child that the spiritual world existed, but like most people as I got older, I paid no attention to it. Yet here it was, not to be denied. I knew that there was a power here that knew my every thought, my every movement.

"Am I in heaven?" I heard myself ask Janet in my thoughts.

"Young one, you can call it that since that is what you understand. We are in the spirit world where all things are possible. You have been brought here because your appeals to the Creator have been heard, and because there has been injustice in your physical life."

"Injustice?" I asked, hearing the question in my mind.

"Yes, you are a spirit here, look at yourself. Do you not see the conflict?" she replied.

It was difficult doing what she said since I wasn’t used to seeing myself in the spiritual world, but eventually I saw myself in the spirit. Standing there, I had long flowing hair, a beautiful face, a soft bosom, long slender arms and fingers, and I was in a flowing robe that conformed to a body much different than what I was used to. I took a second look, in shock. I had all the appearances of being female.

"I’m . . . I appear to be . . . female" I heard myself say.

"Yes, you have a strong female spirit. It’s how you were created. The form you see is the manifestation of what your spirit is. But when you were born, and your spirit was given to your mother, your physical aspect was created male. Most people adjust to their physical body, and forget their spiritual form. They simply have a more sensitive spirit when this happens. However, some never forget their female spirit and become miserable in their human existence. They feel like they are females in the wrong body. You were one such spirit and you did not make the adjustment well, and that is why you have been unhappy since you became aware of what you were."

"Then why am I here?" I heard myself ask.

"You have been brought here to have an opportunity to experience life in the opposite role" I heard her say. "Would you really decide to be the opposite sex if you understood the way the opposite sex lived? Use this opportunity well to experience what your spirit is, and what it feels like to have the life and body you say you desire. Compare the life you have now to who you want to be."

"I don’t understand completely. . . what do you mean think and compare?" I asked in my mind.

But before I could get an answer I felt another rush and things became dark.

 

I woke up. Things were fuzzy. Where had I been? That was a strange dream. I had the memory of being in someone’s house.. there were candles.. but now I wasn’t there. Was it a dream? I rolled over. The double bed felt so good. I didn’t want to get up, but I had to use the bathroom.

I opened my eyes and things began to come into focus. Something was different. Here I was in my room. I knew it was my room, but it was different. I got out of bed and unconsciously reached up to pull my long hair back behind my back. As I did, I felt the long strands in my hand and looked at them. I then looked around the room. There on my dresser were 12 porcelin figurines – all girls – with numbers for years of age on each one. The tallest one had a 12 in gold on her long dress. I looked back at myself and my long hair. I went to the full length mirror in my room and stood in front of it. I was a girl, a 12 year old girl. But how was this possible? I was a 25 year old man, and yet here I was, a 12 year old girl.

Having to use the toilet, I immediately went to the hall bathroom on the second floor where my bedroom was. Something inside of me clicked and I instinctively sat down to pee. The seat was cold as I remembered from so many other times. How could I remember that? I was a man, and yet I remembered sitting down to pee. As I took care of my need, I felt the rush of fluid. It felt so natural. My mind went back to what I knew as male and I compared the other sensation to what I was just feeling. This was different, and yet, I liked it. It felt the way it should. Instinctively, I did what I had been taught, and wiped myself. But how could this be instinctive? I was a male. And yet here I was, a female. Something was going on.

"Christina, are you in there? Hurry up and get out! I gotta use the bathroom! It’s an emergency!" I heard another girl say.

It was my sister Melissa. She was 3 years older than me. I remembered her using those words many times, and not understanding what the emergency was. Yet now, I did understand what she was saying. She was having her period.

"Hold your horses" I heard myself say in a definitely female voice. "You’ll get in here soon enough"

When I finally opened the door, she came rushing in and screaming at me.

"You just wait till it happens to you, squirt. You’ll understand, and then there’ll be payback. You just wait."

As she said that she pushed me out of the bathroom and shut the door. Funny. I knew exactly what she was going to do. I had seen my mother deal with her period. I remember asking her what she was doing, and I remember her showing me. And yet, I was male, and my mother had never shown me that side of her personal life. What was going on? How could I possibly know about this?

As I left the scene of my sisters anger, I went back into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I looked in the mirror observing myself. Then I heard a knock at the door. It was my mother. She opened the door and walked in.

"Are you bothering your sister again? Honestly Christina, she’s going to get you back when you start having your period. Your body has already started changing and it’s just a matter of time now, so be nice to her. And how come you haven’t started getting ready yet? You know today is Saturday and we’re going to the amusement park today. It’s 8:00 already and you need to take a shower and get some clothes on and come downstairs for breakfast. I fixed your favorite.. French Toast. Now come on and lets go. The outfit I bought for you is hanging up in your closet."

She walked out of my room mildly annoyed at me.

Hearing my door shut, I walked over to my dresser to get some underwear. As I opened the drawer and looked inside, I was greeted by a surprise. There were panties and bras in my drawer. I stood there for a moment looking at the undergarments. Was this real? Panties? Bras? Memories flooded back into my mind. I remembered something from my childhood about being jealous of my sister and my mother; about how I wanted to be female and be able to wear girls underwear as a course of my daily life. It wasn’t something that sexually aroused me for a short time. No, I wanted to be a girl and be able to wear these items just because I needed to, just because my body made it necessary to do so. And then all of a sudden, it hit me. I was a 25 year old male, but somehow I was now living as a 12 year old female. I was getting to experience the life I had always wanted to have. These were my clothes. I was somehow getting to experience life as a girl.

Leaving the drawer open, I went to my door and locked it, then went to the full length mirror in my room. Hesitating for a minute, and knowing instinctively what I was going to see, I took my nightgown off in front of the mirror. There I was, almost naked, just in a pair of panties. As I looked at myself, I saw I was a girl. I had long hair, a girls face, and I could see that my hips were starting to get round like my mother and sister. I knew my body was changing into a womans body. I had breasts, slightly larger than an A cup I knew in my mind, and I was wearing panties. I took the panties off I was wearing and what I knew wasn’t there, wasn’t there. I looked at myself. I knew.. I had a vagina just like my mom and sister. I stood there for a moment, relishing the feelings that were flowing through my mind. Knowing full well that I had come here from being a 25 year old male, my mind went back to that experience for a second, and I could feel myself as a male, having a penis. Then I came back here. That was amazing. I seemed to be able to shift my thoughts. I felt my present body. I felt my breasts and vagina. There was nothing hanging down on the front of me. It was wonderful. My mind flashed back to my male body, and then back here again. Yes, this did feel better. I had always felt having a female body was what I had wanted, what I had needed. Now this confirmed it. I felt at peace. My body now felt the way I had thought about so many times. I stood there just enjoying the experience.

Knowing my mother and sister would be expecting me downstairs, I stopped what I was doing and walked back over to the open dresser drawer and got a fresh pair of underwear. The panties felt so good going on and I saw how I had nothing in the front to create the bulge I had always thought was so disgusting. The panties lay flat against my body in the natural female manner. I then took one of my bras, and I knew exactly how to put it on. The cups formed the shape I knew they would when I put it on. It felt so good wearing it. I then went to my closet and opened it. There, hanging up on the rack were all clothes for a young adolescent girl. Cute clothes. I got the outfit out that my mother had bought for me. It was a cute top and skirt and I put them on knowing exactly how to do it. Then I went and got some pink socks to match and put my white tennis shoes on. I went to my door to unlock it and leave, and then noticed a purse on the chest of drawers next to the 12 figurines. I grabbed it and looked inside. There was makeup inside, and I went over to the vanity where I sat down and applied some foundation and lip gloss. Mom had told me I was getting to be a young woman now and I needed to start learning how to wear makeup. I recalled her showing me how to put it on, and I did it without effort. I put the makeup back in my purse, and noticed some small packages wrapped in pink paper and having the word Kotex written on the paper. I remembered my mother having "the talk" with me about how I was changing, and how very soon, I would start having my period like her and my sister. I closed my purse and proceeded to go downstairs.

"Hey pokey," my sister said as I came to the breakfast table, "you never could get ready fast. Too busy looking at your boobs? Y’know, they’re just boobs" she said as she laughed at me.

"Now Melissa," my mother said, mildly reprimanding her, "as I recall you were mildly excited when you got your breasts. Let her enjoy who she is becoming. Sit down, honey, I fixed your favorite."

I sat down at the breakfast table and watched as she put two pieces of French toast on my plate. It was my favorite I remembered. I knew she had made it just for me. Mom always treated Melissa and I with such love. She had told me many times she wanted us girls to learn what it meant to love our family and she was here to show us what that was all about, because one day, we’d be mothers, and have husbands and children to take care of. I recalled how special those talks with her had been, and then my mind flashed back to my male mind, where I remembered that as a young boy, I always felt left out because those conversations hadn’t included me. I couldn’t feel my mothers full loving spirit because I had been born male, and that thought depressed me. But here I was, being able to know that love.

Eventually we finished breakfast, cleaned up the dishes, and then piled in the car and headed out for the amusement park. It was a warm July day and the three of us had planned this day for a month. Mom was in her 40’s, but she hadn’t forgotten how to have fun. Melissa had wanted to bring her boyfriend, but mom said today was going to be a family outing. During the day, it was the three of us on the rides, and then sometimes mom sat down and let us go by ourselves. I recalled Melissa being the older sister, was in the habit of teasing me, but today I felt lucky having her as my sister when we went to the basketball throw and she won me a big stuffed dog.

"Here you go, Stina" I heard her say. "Every girl needs a stuffed animal, and I know you love dogs".

I knew that Stina, short for Christina, was what my sister had called me when she couldn’t say my name at a much younger age. The name had just stuck. Even though I knew that she teased me relentlessly sometimes, I could tell she was proud to have won the dog for me. I returned her affection by giving her a big, hard, hug.

"Thanks Melissa, I’ll always remember this!" I said, realizing that I was her sister; realizing I always wanted to be a girl and have her as my older sister. I wanted to hold onto this moment.

"Hey, not so hard, squirt. We’re in public" I heard her say. "We don’t want people to think we actually like each other do we? It would ruin my reputation!"

I ceased my embrace and looked at her. She loved me, I knew, but she was playing the part of the older sister.

"Yeah," I replied, "we don’t want to ruin your image!".

She let me have the dog and shot me a smile, then we raced back to where my mother was sitting.

"Here mom, hold this" I heard her say and motioned me to give her the dog. "Last one to the Octopus is a loser".

We raced off together and all I could think was that I loved having a sister. My mind raced back to my childhood as a male and I remembered how deprived I had felt when I knew there were aspects about her that I’d never know because I was her brother. But here, now, I was getting to experience those things, and I was enjoying them.

During the course of the day we did all the normal girl stuff. Silly photographs in the photo booth, riding the rides. It was wonderful. Eventually the day came to an end and we had to leave. We then went to the restaurant we had found a few years ago near the amusement park which had been so good. It was one of our traditions.

As always happens, good things come to an end, and we made our way back to our house. What a day I had had. I was a girl. I was experiencing life as I always had wanted to. I liked who and what I was. And then I remembered that I was a male, getting to be here. My thoughts and feelings went back to that existence for a moment. It didn’t feel as good as this. I didn’t want to leave. But I was tired. It had been a long day. We all went to our rooms and eventually I fell asleep. I began to dream.

 

"Young one.. I heard a voice say in my mind.. "come here."

My spirit felt a rush and in a flash I was back in the spirit world. The voice I heard was Janet’s, or rather I mean, my angel.

"Young one, have you been experiencing and comparing?" I heard her ask.

I remembered her words previously and replied in my mind.

"You just let me experience a different life, didn’t you?" I asked. "I just got to experience my life as if I was born a female. And yet, while I was doing it, I was aware that I was male. You let me experience this different life, and yet during that time, I knew who I was and I could compare who I was there to what I am in my real life. That’s what you meant by experience and compare, wasn’t it? But why did you make it end? I was enjoying it so much."

"It is important that you understand the opportunity you are being given. I brought you back here to make sure you understood that you are experiencing the life you have wanted so much, and would have had if you had been born a girl. I have been watching you during this time. She is a very pretty creature. She will grow into a very beautiful woman. Have you enjoyed being her?"

As she said this, I saw a portal appear before my eyes. There, almost as if on a movie screen, I saw myself/her lying there peacefully sleeping. She was very pretty. It was obvious that given time, she would become a beautiful woman.

"Yes, I did, very much" I answered.

"And did you like your body being female compared to being male?"

"Yes", I said, and my spirit went back to when I was in my bedroom earlier. "I enjoyed every second."

"But why are you doing this?" I asked. "Why am I being given this opportunity?"

"Young one," she replied, "you must understand the female experience to decide."

"Decide?" I heard myself ask. "What do you mean?"

But she said nothing in response. It was the end of the conversation. I felt another rush.

 

The alarm clock was ringing, and I reached over to turn it off. I had been having a strange dream again. Those weird dreams always made me tired and I had to struggle to get out of bed and wipe the sleep from my eyes. As I got up, I realized after a minute or two that I was she, Christina, a girl once again. I recalled the three words of the spirit, "experience, compare, and think of what makes you happy". Today was another opportunity.

As I regained my faculties, I looked around the room. There upon my chest of drawers were the figurines I had noticed the first time, but now there was another taller girl that had the number 13 on her dress. I was a year older.

"Christina," I heard my mother say from outside my door, "are you up yet? Today are your school pictures and Jennifer and her mom are coming to pick you up at 7:30. You only have an hour to get ready."

It was still strange, being able to switch from my male spirit to my female spirit, both existing within the same body. Christina’s thoughts came flooding back in and I recalled that Jennifer was my best friend. We had done everything together since we were 7 years old and today we were going to go to school together to get our pictures taken for the yearbook. We were both in eigth grade.

My mind immediately remembered some of the times that Jennifer and I had had together. They were good times. Sure we had had our ups and downs like other friends, but she was my best friend. The good definitely outweighed the bad. Warm feelings came over me. I then remembered my life as a young boy. It wasn’t as nice. I wasn’t coordinated enough to play all the sports that young boys play, plus I wasn’t really interested in playing them anyway. I had always been more interested in traditionally female things; cooking; playing house. As I had gotten older, I had been shunned by my peers because of those feelings. They hadn’t been as accepting as Jennifer had been. I didn’t have to be perfect with her. She accepted me for who I was. I liked my friendship with her. I hadn’t enjoyed my experience as a male as much as Christina had enjoyed her friendship with Jennifer.

"Ok, mom" I yelled, coming back to reality. "I’m up."

"Your outfit is hanging up on your mirror. You don’t have much time, so let me know if you need some help getting ready. I’m making breakfast so you better get moving if you want to have time to eat."

As I heard my mother walk down the hall and downstairs, I got out of the bed. Something about me was different. I went to the mirror and took off the nightgown I was wearing and looked at myself. My body had changed since I was 12. I could tell my body was much rounder, plus my breasts were sore. I looked at them. It was obvious they had been growing. I went to my drawer and picked up one of my bras and noticed it had the size and a letter B on the tag. I was a full B cup now. I went back to the mirror and admired myself. I was a female. I didn’t have to just dream about it. I stood there content, yes even happy. I had "B" cup breasts and a figure, and I liked it. My mind raced back to being a male and comparing it to all the times I felt my shirt was empty. Now I knew it wouldn’t be when I got dressed. Then my mind came back to reality once again and I knew I had to get ready. I went and grabbed a pair of panties and a bra from my dresser, got my robe on, and headed to the hall bathroom for a shower.

An hour for a girl to get ready isn’t long as I found out. I had always wondered as a male why girls took so long, and now I was finding out. As I stood in the shower, I could feel the hot water against my flesh. My breasts were sensitive since they were growing, and I enjoyed the sensation of the hot water against my skin. But I knew Jennifer was coming, so I quickly showered, washed my hair, and put conditioner on it. My hair was down past my shoulders and it would take time to comb and brush. I wanted to enjoy the shower but I knew I had other things to do to get ready.

Back in my room, I realized there definitely was a ritual to getting ready as a girl. It was much more involved than as a boy. As a boy, you could simply dry your hair with a towel, throw on a shirt and pants, some socks and shoes, and you were done. But as a girl, especially when you had to be presentable like today, there was a lot to do. Fix your hair; get makeup on; get dressed; make sure your stuff was in your purse; it all took time. My mind switched back to Christina and I proceeded to do what I knew I had to do and then went to my closet and got my outfit. It was a sailors’ top in a navy and white with a matching navy skirt. My mind flashed back to being a male for a few seconds and I remembered how I had been so jealous of the girls in high school who wore these outfits. No time to think now. I had to get ready. I went and got some pantyhose and put them on. They were hot. Now I had an idea about what girls had complained about… I recalled hearing them say, "If you ever had to wear them you’d understand why we don’t like them, and it’s all because of you men!!". And yet, wearing them was just something I had to do to look good.

Knowing I didn’t have a lot of time, I put my outfit on and finished getting ready. Then I went to the mirror. The image that looked back was pretty! Instinctively as a girl I smiled. I recalled my mother saying that was a girls natural asset. I turned from side to side admiring my body and how the clothes draped over my body. I had a bustline!! It was beautiful. Plus, I had a figure. My mind raced back to being a male. I wasn’t straight up and down any more. I had a figure. It was so wonderful.

After I got ready, I noticed that on this particular morning my stomach was acting up. It was hurting. I recalled my mother telling me, as Christina, that when you feel a hurting sensation as an adolescent girl, it could be signaling the start of your period, so I checked my purse. There the small packages lay with the words Kotex on them as I had seen before. I remember my mother telling Christina that an ounce of prevention is better than an accident, so I reached in my purse and got one of the pink packages and went to the bathroom. When I pulled my panties down, I noticed a small bit of blood on them, so I put the pad in my panties and pulled them up. The sensation of the pad against my body brought in a torrent of mixed feelings. The pad was uncomfortable, it was bulky, and yet, I remembered as Mike how desperately I wanted to experience this. It felt good next to my body. I was a girl. If I was reading the signs correctly, I was going to start menstruating today, and join all the other girls that had come before me. The experience was uniquely female, and it meant that a girl could become a mother, something I had wished for so many times as Mike. Pleasant or not, it was part of the experience. "I want to experience this" I heard my mind saying. With that done, I went downstairs to get a fast bowl of cereal

"Mom," I said as I got downstairs, "I think I’m starting my period today. I noticed some blood in my panties."

"Do you have some extra pads in your purse?" she asked me as I got the cereal out.

"Yes, I have 3 more" I replied.

"That should be enough. Just remember to change the pad every few hours, when you start to get uncomfortable, and you should be fine as long as they’re securely attached."

She came over and gave me a big hug.

"Well, my baby is becoming a woman. You always wanted to be older, to be a woman like your sister and me. Well, that day has finally arrived for you. I remember how my mother helped me through my first period, and I’m going to be here for you just like she was for me. I hope it doesn’t make things too inconvenient for you. Once you get used to it, it’s something we just have to deal with for 5 days a month. Is your stomach hurting?"

"Yes, I feel some pain down there" I replied.

"Well, that’s your uterus contracting. Let me get something for you" she said, and she left the room.

Returning after a minute, she gave me a small bottle of pain reliever. I put it in my purse.

"Go tell the nurse you’re starting your period and give her this bottle. If things start hurting badly then go get a couple of pills from her. And take these two before you leave. They’ll help."

I held out my hand and she dropped two of the pills in my hand and then got me a glass of water. I swallowed them and just thought to myself that I was glad to be able to experience what I had dreamed of for so long. Shortly thereafter, I heard a horn honking. It was Jennifer and her mom, and it was time to go.

That day, I really found out what having a girlfriend as a girl meant. Jennifer and I had been friends for a long time, and she could read me like a book. She knew I was uncomfortable and I confided in her that today I was starting my period.

"That happened to me about 6 months ago" she said. "Yeah, its yucky, but well, it’s just part of being a girl. I’ll do what I can to help you."

She and I had a couple of classes together, and she watched me like a hawk. Because I was a pretty girl, the boys were trying to talk to me, but I wasn’t wanting to talk to them. Jennifer came to my rescue and said "She’s not feeling well today, why don’t you just let her alone?". I was thankful for that. After school we went over to her place and just talked. It was so nice having a friend that I could talk to about this, and who would just listen. My mind as Mike came back in, and I thought about watching all the guys at work hitting on the pretty girls. I realized that sometimes, a girl just needs to be left alone, especially during this time of the month. I realized how insensitive guys can be sometimes, and it made me loathe the fact that I was a male in my other life. It was obvious that although girls could be cruel, they lived a more caring and sensitive life. No guy could understand this, and no guy I knew ever tried to do that. But girls did understand, and they tried to comfort their friends, like Jennifer was doing. I liked that, and I hated the insensitivity of men. Then my mind came back to being Christina and I realized how wonderful it was having Jennifer as my friend. She understood. She could relate. She was such a close friend, she was my girlfriend.

"Oh Jennifer," I said hugging her. "How could I go through this without having someone like you who understands?"

"I don’t know" she said laughing. "I’m pretty good, aren’t I?"

We giggled like girls do. She was the funny one. It made things just a bit more bearable.

Five days after my period started, it came to a halt. Its so funny how something can bring such a mixed reaction, but this was one of those things. I was glad to experience it, and yet I was glad it was over. I knew that as a girl, I would be experiencing it for most of my life. The day I stopped was a Saturday, and I thought I’d reward myself by wearing something pretty to celebrate that I didn’t have to worry about it any more, for awhile anyway. As a girl, I COULD wear something pretty, something that I couldn’t do as Mike. I had often seen girls wearing pretty things and being jealous of them, but now I could do it and nobody would think a thing about it. As I got dressed, I stood there considering my body. Thoughts of being a boy came into my mind. I considered what it felt like having a penis, and then I compared it to what I had right now. There simply wasn’t any comparison. Even with the period I had just gone through, there was still no comparison. It simply felt better being a girl. Even with the period; even with the inconvenience and mess, it was STILL BETTER. I never wanted to give this up. I was who I should have been born as. After thinking about this for a few minutes, I finished getting dressed and went downstairs, my mom noticed immediately what I was wearing and realized I was noticeably perkier than the last few days.

"Hi honey," I heard her say, "you must be feeling better. Have you stopped?"

"Stopped?" I replied, not immediately picking up on the female lingo.

"Your period" she said. "Is your period finished?"

"Oh yeah. How did you know?" I asked her.

"Well, you’re wearing a very cute outfit, and you’re smiling. It’s obvious you’re feeling better, and considering what’s been going on with your body over the last week, that can only mean one thing. We girls pick up on things like that you know."

"Yes, I stopped last night, and I must say I do feel better. But you know what mom?" I said in reply to her.

"What’s that, honey?" she said.

"I like being a girl, and despite the fact that I had my period, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant sometimes, it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. And mom, I wouldn’t give up being a girl for a million dollars. Jennifer helped me through it at school, and you were wonderful. If I have to go through that every month, it’s nice having a mother like you and a friend like Jennifer."

"Sweetheart" she said coming over and sitting down beside me, "we women all know the experience. It’s enough that we have to go through it. We might as well stick together and help each other. That’s one thing we women usually do better than men.. understand and help each other. You’ll find that out as you get older. And I’m glad you like being a girl. It would be terrible if you were unhappy with yourself, maybe even unbearable."

"Oh mom", I thought to myself as Mike, "you simply don’t know how true those words are. I wish I could stay your daughter forever.

She got up and walked away. I was glad to have had the friendship of Jennifer and the understanding of my mother. It was so much more than I had experienced as Mike. There was no comparison. Then, all of a sudden, I felt a rush and things went dark.

* * *

 

A long time seemed to pass, and then I was returned to the spirit world.

"Young one," I heard Janet say, "have you been comparing experiences as I told you to do? How do you perceive her life?"

"Oh Janet," I replied, "or whoever you are, there is no comparison. Even with what Christina just went through, I still wish I could have been her. It is a small price to pay for being happy."

"Being male or female is a matter of trade-offs" I heard her say. "The male gets some advantages, and the female has others that the male cannot experience. Both have their place in creation. But what have you felt? Which do you think you belong to?"

"The female" I replied. "I like the gentleness of the sex, the caring heart, the physical body, the existence. For once, I was happy just being me. I didn’t have to think about what I wanted to be as I have done so many times as Mike. I could just enjoy being who I was. And I enjoyed being Jennifer’s friend too. She stayed with me; with Christina; through the difficult time. I’ve never felt that way as a male or had that type of friendship. I was always miserable and felt deprived. I often felt that I’d be happier as a girl, but after this experience, I know I would have been happier as a girl from the start.

"And are you aware that females are treated differently than males? Even in todays society, where women are supposed to be equal to males, there is still inequity. How your body feels is only one aspect to the female experience. Could you live with being treated as less of a person than as you are in your current existence? Could just being female be enough to make you happy? Could it make up for the inequity that occurs?".

"I don’t know. I’ve never experienced that. How can I know?" I heard myself ask.

"Then consider" I heard her say, and once again things got dark and I felt the now familiar rush.

 

By now, I expected to be someplace other than where I was with Janet, in the spirit world, wherever that was. When I regained my faculties, I noticed that I was quite a bit older than before. I was obviously in college, sitting in a lecture room as Christina, listening to an instructor rambling on about differential equations. I was in a college class. As Mike, math had been one of my favorite subjects. I enjoyed finding out why things worked, and finding out how to solve problems. It was amazing that Christina was taking some of the same courses, because I had noticed that as you got in the higher level science classes, there were fewer girls. Even in this class, there were only three other girls among the sea of males. But here I, or rather she, Christina, was. Maybe this was some sort of parallel life. Our minds appeared to be interested in the same things between the two lives. The only difference was that I was being shown life from Christina’s (a female) perspective.

As I sat there, my mind realized that Christina was not only a very beautiful young woman, but she was also intelligent, having the same interests and mind as I had in my life. What a combination. I had always admired the pretty and smart women at work. First, because they were female. Second, because they were pretty. And last, because they were smart. I had always been told that the person who knew how to solve the problems got the promotions. If I was going to experience life as a girl, being a smart and pretty woman was definitely the way to be. However, what I hadn’t been told, and what I hadn’t realized (because I was a male) was that sometimes females don’t get the same breaks or the same treatment. That treatment really depended on who you were interacting with, and what their opinions on women were. I was about to find this out.

As I completely regained my faculties, I noticed that I was on my period again, and my midsection was hurting more than the last time. It was difficult concentrating on the instructors monotone voice. The pain and his monotone voice were both getting my attention. Then I heard him call my name.

"Miss Mills, can you give the class an answer?" I heard him ask.

I looked up, having missed the question, the timing of my injection into this situation being impeccable.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get the question. Can you repeat it?" I asked.

Obviously annoyed, he proceeded to reprimand me in front of the entire class.

"Miss Mills, if you’re going to be in my class, I expect your cooperation. I don’t want you thinking about boys, or about your female problems, or what young women think about. I expect you to be prepared for our class discussions. If you can’t do that, maybe you should stop wasting my time and find something you’re more interested in."

He paused for dramatic effect, having soundly disciplined me in front of the whole class and sending a clear message. He then turned to one of the males in the class and restated the question.

"Mr. James," he said with disdain in his voice, "maybe you can answer the question posed to Miss Mills."

After that, the young man gave the answer to the problem that the instructor had posed. And while he was answering, the thought crossed my mind that some men have disdain for women. It was unfair. Why should he bring up Christinas personal problems in class? What purpose did it serve to embarrass her? And how insensitive was it to bring her female problems into the class. He didn’t even know that that was necessarily the problem. How crude it was to assume that, and then to mention it in front of everyone. He was a bastard. He obviously didn’t have any idea about what Christina was feeling. But then how could he? He was a male. Then Christinas thoughts came back and she remembered that this wasn’t the first man that was insensitive to a girls feelings or problems. She recalled that men just didn’t understand women, and in some cases, they didn’t try. This was something that you had to get used to and expect as a female.

Then my mind came back. When class was over, I looked at Christinas schedule. It was a Thursday, and this was her last class of the day and the week, so I decided to go talk to the professor. I caught him in his office.

"Sir, can I talk to you?" I asked.

"Oh, Miss Mills, yes, come in" he replied with a smile, as if nothing had transpired previously. "What can I do for you?"

His reply was incredible. How could he act like nothing had happened? I decided that the direct approach would be the best policy, so I didn’t mince words. My mind switched to Mike, and I recalled the sensitivity training we had been forced to take at work, about keeping your interactions with others professional and not bringing up personal issues. I decided to approach the problem with those ideas.

"Sir," I said, "I wanted to talk to you about you reprimanding me in front of the whole class. I realize I didn’t answer your question, but I don’t think it was appropriate to bring my personal life before the class. It’s true, my body isn’t feeling the greatest during this week, but it’s nobody’s business, and it has no bearing on the class. You had no right to do that. When we’re in class, the discussion should be limited to just that, the class material, and personal issues or problems should be left out of it. I thought college was supposed to be about learning ideas, not about being abused mentally."

"Miss Mills," the instructor replied in a stern tone, "I’m not really interested in how you’re FEELING!! I’m here to teach a class. I have 4 other sections to teach, and its enough of a workload to keep anybody busy up to their ears. As you’ll find out when you enter the workforce, you have to be prepared when you’re discussing something. The people there don’t want excuses, and they really don’t care about how you feel or your personal life. They just want results. If you women want to be treated as an equal, then you have to act as one, and that means not letting your PHYSICAL PROBLEM get in the way. I realized this a long time ago when I was in the workplace, and when I came to the university, I decided I was going to treat my students the same way so they knew what to expect when they entered the workplace. I’m really doing you a favor, you know. And if you don’t like this treatment, pick some career other than a technical one, like teaching kindergarten, which a lot of women do."

What an insulting bastard he was!! When was acting like a jerk doing you a favor, I heard Christina thinking. She didn’t like the treatment she was getting, and neither did I. If this treatment existed at the university level, I was sure it existed in the workplace. You eventually encounter the same types no matter where you go. Now I began to see the arguments that women had with their jobs. Men didn’t always take women seriously, or they treated them with less respect. They made assumptions about what the problem was, and acted before they knew all the facts. I had seen it in the workplace, but I guess I ignored it because it really didn’t affect me. But as a female, I could see how such behavior and treatment could impact a girls career advancement, something I hadn’t had to think about as a male. How did women put up with it? And yet I somehow understood. They were content with themselves, their physical being, their relationship oriented lives, and this was just something that they understood they were up against. As I mulled this over in my mind, I realized that I really enjoyed being a female despite the negative aspects. It was difficult to describe why, but I just knew that this was who I was. I felt more comfortable with my body. It just felt right to me. If I was being given the chance to become a woman, I’d have to put up with this and probably more.

"Sir," I said coming back to the present situation, "all I’m asking is to be treated fairly, and not be judged because I’m a female."

"I thought I was doing that. I was treating you like anybody who wasn’t completely prepared" I heard him reply. "Look, if you don’t like what happened, just do something about it and be prepared the next time. You have control over what happens to you, you know. Now I have things to do if there’s nothing else."

Having said that, he showed me to his office door and dismissed me. What a jerk he was.

As I stood outside of his office thinking, one of the other women in my class came up to greet me. Christina’s mind remembered it was Laura Cassidy, and she and Christina had gone out on social outings a few times during the semester after studying together.

"Wow," she said, "he really gave it to you. Were you just in his office talking about it?"

"Yes" I heard myself say in Christina’s voice as we walked away together. "I asked if we could keep our relationship in class on a professional basis, and not bring up any personal problems he might think I’m going through. It’s really unnecessary and none of his business you know."

"And what did he say when you asked him that?" she asked.

"He just said he was doing me a favor and in so many words told me to get lost" I replied in a somewhat angry tone.

"Those men!" she said with contempt. "They need to learn to listen and stop thinking with their dicks! It’s always so cut and dried with them. No room for compassion. I’d like to see one of them be a girl for a month and have a period or a mood swing or an emotionally bad day and have someone yell at them. Then they might be able to cut someone a break."

As she was talking, I realized two things. No guy could ever think that way, because it simply wasn’t in his physical makeup. Men didn’t have the hormones, the mood swings, and they hadn’t been socialized to think that way. And second, it felt good being supported by her. She listened. She understood about the treatment I had received. I could bare my feelings to her and I didn’t have to worry about getting my nose chopped off.

"Well, that’ll be the day" I heard myself say. "They don’t have our hormones and our experiences, so how can we expect them to understand our condition?"

"You got that right, girl. Hey, let’s blow this class off and go out to the bars tonight for a little fun. What do you say?"

At that moment, it sounded a lot better than the treatment I had just received.

"Ok, let’s go" I heard myself say.

That night, we went out on the town and went to one of the local college bars. It was just a time to go out and have a good time. The place was alive with other college kids and the bar had hired one of the local bands to provide the music. And, it was that night that I found out what every pretty girl knows about when she’s out; getting hit on. That night I got to experience what it feels like to be stared at, checked out, and be hit on by guys that had had too much to drink. I was just out with my girlfriend and I wasn’t particularly "on the prowl". That didn’t matter however. Once a pretty girl is out at the bar, she’s fair game for all the guys, even if she’s not there for that purpose. I realized that a pretty woman was a sex object; a fantasy of most men’s minds anytime she was out and anywhere she was. I realized that she had to be prepared for that 24x7. I thought back to the many times I, as Mike, had looked at pretty girls, which was almost every time I had seen one. To be sure, the reasons I looked at them were for a much different reason. After all, I was jealous of them and wanted to be them. I realized that they didn’t understand that, and probably took my looks as another guy checking them out.

"Geez," I said to Laura, "these guys just won’t stop staring at us. What’s their problem?"

"Oh, ignore them" I heard her say. "You know they’re just drunk, and like I said, they’re thinking with their dicks. You must have lead a sheltered life and not have gotten out a lot. I’d think you’d be used to that by now."

Then my mind raced back to what Christina’s mother had told her, that she, as a pretty young woman, would be the target of men. It just came with the sex. She was attractive, and men would be chasing after her. She needed to learn to flirt with men and play the game. It was all part of being a female.

"Well, no" I said, "I haven’t gotten out a lot with men. It just hasn’t been part of my experience. But we can change that tonight, can’t we?"

"Hey, there you go!! Let’s have a good time."

And so with that, I began to flirt with some of the cute boys that were coming over. It was fun. It was obvious that I could take control of the situation. The boys perked up when I paid attention to them. And, when I decided to leave them, I saw I had a dramatic effect on their mood. I had never had any experience like that as Mike, and I liked it a lot. I had the power to control the social situation. I could have fun and be the one that started it all.

"Boy, that sure was fun!" I heard Laura say as we left the bar. "You really took control, and it looked like you were having a good time."

"I was" I replied. "Gee, Laura, it was so much fun being a girl tonight. I’ve never had such a good time before."

"Yeah," she said, "you had them on the hook, that’s for sure. They were sure trying to pick you up. It’s sure better being on our end instead of theirs. We have our choice of the pack. Imagine if we were the guys competing for the girl. That sure would be different. Personally, I like things just fine the way things are."

"Me too" I answered, as we walked back to the university. She didn’t know how much better I liked it.

And then, as before, I felt the rush. Laura was gone, and I was back in the spirit world with Janet.

 

"Young one" I heard her say, as I returned to the spirit world, "have you experienced and compared? Which is better? The male or the female?"

"Oh spirit" I said, now understanding why I was there, "you have shown me the experiences of the female. You brought me here to find out what that was like and to decide whether I would want to change who I was, haven’t you?"

"Yes, that was the purpose of your spiritual journey. You were created a female spirit, but you have had a conflict all your life. The creator has decided to give you a choice. Would you rather be male, or female? The creator wants all his creatures to be happy."

"Oh spirit, there is no question. I enjoyed the female experience so much. It was what I should have been. I know that more than I ever knew that as Mike. It confirmed all the feelings I had as Mike. I NEED to be female. Don’t make me go back to the way things were. I NEVER want to be Mike again. Let me be Christina from now on."

"You can see that it will mean different experiences than the male. Some will be good, and some will not – like the teacher who had contempt for Christina. Are you willing to accept those disappointments?"

"Spirit, Janet, the most important thing is being happy with who and what I am. For the first time, I was happy as Christina. Everything else pales in comparison. Oh spirit, just let me be happy. Let me be Christina. Everything else will be as it may."

"You are sure, then?" she asked.

"Yes, I am sure. Knowing what I know now, I never want to be Mike again."

"Very well" I heard her say. "Let your choice bring you happiness".

And with that, I felt the rush again. This time, however, I felt myself being taken back to where it all had started, back to Janets house.

 

"Christina, wake up" I heard the voice of Janet say.

My surroundings were fuzzy. It took me a minute to come around, and then I became aware of myself and opened my eyes.

"Do you know who and where you are?" I heard Janet ask?

"You and I went on a journey, and now we’ve returned, and I am Mi. ." I said stopping suddenly realizing what had happened. "I mean, I am Christina."

I looked down at myself, at my slender legs and arms, and at my bosom. I was she. I was.. a female. I was no longer dressed as a male, but had a very feminine blouse and skirt on and I was wearing heels. Now, I was who I had always wanted to be; Christina; a female.

"Oh Janet, you gave me the opportunity to become who I have always needed to be, and now.. now I’m female.. what I always felt I was inside."

"Yes, young one. I am an angel, sent by our creator to help put people at peace. I hope you are happy now. Look at yourself and consider. You have been given a new chance to be happy. Enjoy your new life and forget the old. You have a new set of experiences ahead of you."

And with that, she bade me to leave, her work was over. As I walked out of her house, I noticed the clock was the same as when I had gotten there. What had seemed to take a long time had taken only a few seconds in human time.

As I got in my car, I noticed a purse sitting beside the drivers seat. I opened the bag and pulled out a womans pocketbook. Inside was a picture of Christina Mills smiling. It was a good picture to be sure. Inside the box marked SEX was the letter F. I looked in my rear view mirror and there I was, Christina, looking back. "Thank you, oh spirit, now I feel like who I should have been all along". I started the car and pulled away, and then got on the highway heading for home.

 

As I was driving home, I began thinking about the letter F on my drivers license. Memories of Christina’s life came flooding into my mind overtaking everything. All I could think about was the good times I had had as a young girl with my sister Melissa, how my mother helped us through all our ups and downs, and how good it felt to be a girl and have my body the way it was. As I was thinking about these things, a thought of a person named Mike went through my head. It was difficult to remember exactly who he was. I should know him, but somehow he was a distant memory. How did I know him? The memory was there. I usually had no trouble remembering things, but this thought was eluding me. Then I heard my cell phone ring.

"Hello?" I said, picking up the phone.

"Hi Chris" I heard my sisters voice over the phone. "Are you going to be at mom’s tonight for dinner like we planned?"

"Of course" I said. "I had to work a little late tonight and run an errand, but I’ll be there."

As I hung up the phone, I tried to remember what exactly it was that I had done after work, but it was a bit blurry. And that other thought, what was it? Oh well, it didn’t matter. All I could remember was that I was Christina, and I was getting to have dinner with my mom and sister tonight, something that we tried to do once or twice a month. I had had such a close relationship with my mom and sister growing up. Family was important, and it was important for a girl to keep close to her mom and sister. You never knew how long your loved ones would be with you.

Still, there was something in the back of my mind, something I was having trouble remembering. It was almost like.. a past life.. or something. Oh well, if it’s really that important, I’d remember it. The thought faded and I didn’t think about it ever again. Anyway, it didn’t matter. Tonight, I was going to just enjoy life with Mom and Melissa, and just enjoy being a girl.

 

THE END

  

  

  

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