Twists and Turns                      by: Janet L. Stickney                 JanetLynn17@Hotmail.com

 

I work in a grocery store, bagging, pushing carts back into the store, that sort of thing. Once in a while I fill in at the specialty counter, selling film, cigarettes, gum and so on. It’s not very exciting, but it pays well, and I see a lot of women every day. Tall and short, old and young, slobs and fashion plates, they all come to our store, and I see them all. I always pay attention to them, since that, combined with what I see of the girls at school, gives me the perfect model for when I dress as a girl. Oh!! Didn’t I mention that? Well, I have been dressing as a girl as far back as I can remember, but always kept it a secret. Dad would not like it, and probably beat my skinny ass into a pulp on the sidewalk if he ever found out. That was up until now. Dad liked to drink, and got caught up in a fight at the local pub he favored, and was shot, twice. He was dead before he hit the floor the cops told us. That left Mom and I alone with each other, but neither of us missed dad very much. The love between my parents evaporated long ago, and I rarely saw him.

At age 15, about the only thing dad left me with that I really appreciated was my height. I stand tall at 5’5", which is at least 5 to 10 inches shorter than almost every one of my classmates, including some of the girls. With my strawberry blond hair long enough to touch my shoulders, I can pull it back with a hair band and manage to look reasonably good when I am dressed up. Only my makeup isn’t quite up to par, and my wardrobe is meager to say the least. Mom is taller and out weighs me by 40 pounds, so there isn’t much of hers that I can use, except for some jewelry. I was pretty sure mom knew about my hobby, but she never mentioned it, and since I never left the house, we never found a reason to clash over it. Besides, Mom would never bring it up with dad around. That changed about three weeks after the funeral.

"Now that your father is gone, why don’t you let me meet that girl that stops by once in a while?"

"What girl?" I said, hoping she did not mean what we both knew she meant.

"The one that hides under your bed inside the gray box."

Swallowing hard, with instant fear in my throat, I said nothing at first, then…. "you’ll laugh."

"I promise, I won’t laugh honey, go change and let me see this phantom girl that lives here."

We traded stares for a moment while I gathered the courage to do what she asked. It would be an admission I had always feared, my father’s wrath foremost in my mind. When mom smiled at me, I gathered up my courage, then got up and went to my room without any other words being spoken.

An hour later, and with great effort, I shakily stepped out of my room, completely dressed from the skin out as a girl. I wore a short navy skirt with a pink blouse, low navy heels, my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and the best makeup I could manage. My tiny breasts, which were merely sacks of birdseed pushed out in my bra, giving me a modest but feminine shape. Mom saw me as I stepped out, motioned me to the big room, and as I stood there, she looked me over from head to toe.

"You look very pretty, but with just a little help, you would look even better. Can I, would you let me, help you?"

What could I say, standing there like that? As scared as I was, I’m not stupid, and I knew I needed the help, so of course I said yes. I wanted to look as good as possible, and obviously, I couldn’t do it on my own. Within a few minutes I was sitting on a kitchen chair as mom began to style my hair, using nothing but a brush, yet she seemed very pleased. Then she touched up my makeup. When I was allowed to look in the mirror, I was shocked at what I saw. The girl I had always worked hard to find! Not cute, but pretty enough I guess. I wanted to shout and yell for joy, but didn’t, just in case mom didn’t know how much I liked it.

"There! That’s a little better! Now then, what do I call you? You must have picked out a name by now."

I told her. It only confirmed what she already knew, so it didn’t matter.

"Diane" I said, hoping she liked it. Time stood still as I waited for a response, then she asked me if I would like to go shopping, to get me a few more skirts and blouses, maybe some shoes, and better makeup. As much as I wanted to say yes, I had never left the house, and I was afraid, which must have shown on my face. Mom told to stay there, then she put some makeup on and rejoined me. Without a word, she took my hand, and I set foot outside for the first time, which for me, was even scarier than showing mom how I looked, and I almost ran to the car. Mom gave a little laugh, then told me there was no way anyone would kn0ow, unless I did something stupid, and told me to relax. I said I would try, even as my butt was tightening up in anticipation of the worst. The drive to the store was quick, and with no way to not go inside, I followed her. Three skirts, a dress, two pair of shoes and some makeup were piled on, then a new bra, some pantyhose, a slip and one nightgown. I was a wreck by the time we reached the car.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

"Mom, I’m 15, a boy, and you took me into the store, with me dressed like a girl!"

"Yes, but how many people knew that you were a boy?"

None was the correct answer of course, and while I was elated about that, I still wasn’t quite willing to admit it to mom. I also wanted to know why she decided to buy all those clothes for me. I mean, I only dress up once in a great while, and would probably out grow them, but I did not say a word, and put the clothes in my closet, hoping to try them on later. Mom never told me to change, so I spent the entire day as Diane, then had to change to my boy self for work the next day. It was a jumble of emotions that washed over me as I pulled on my jeans while looking right into my closet, all those skirts and dresses hanging there, tempting me. I worked ten hours that day because one of the girls didn’t come in, but her job was in cosmetics, and all day I endured the scent of perfume, lipstick and so on. It was driving me crazy.

On Monday I went to school, the first of the last three days of school, but it was only half a day. I went to work, only to find out that I had been assigned to the cosmetics counter full time! The girl had quit. My boss, Mr. Dobson, told me that I had done a nice job there, and wanted me to continue. He said I must have a sense of what a woman wants, and based on the sales from the day before, he was adamant that I stay there. With a sigh, I went to my assigned job. On Wednesday, I went to work after school as usual, went to the counter, and was almost ready to start the day when the store owner walked up. Mrs. Dobson was about ten years older than mom, but looked younger than she really was.

"Donnie, can I talk to you?"

"Sure! What can I do for you Mrs. Dobson?"

"You know that we hired someone to fill your old job, and we can’t just fire him, but two ladies have complained about you."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Oh, you didn’t do anything wrong dear, it’s just that they thought that having a male work at the cosmetics counter odd, especially when you guided them to the perfect item for them. One woman even said that you talked her into a better color for her complexion."

We locked eyes, with me wondering if I really screwed up by letting my knowledge of cosmetics get out, and I sure she was wondering how I knew as much as I did about cosmetics. I could tell her I read all those glamour magazines during our slack times, which was true, but I swallowed that when I looked at her face.

"I guess I’ll just say this straight out Donnie. Given how much you know about this counter, I am sure you also know how girls your age dress, and how to use those same cosmetics, which means that you could dress as a girl and continue to work this counter. I’ll even change you work record for you, so it will show that girl is working here."

"You want me to start working here as a girl?! Are you nuts!…Sorry Ma’am, but that’s crazy!"

"Is it? I was at the store the other day, and saw this cute girl with your mother. That had to be you Donnie, so don’t try to deny it. If you start tomorrow as a girl, nobody will know because we’ll say that you are a new hire."

"But everyone we know shops here! Someone would find out sooner or later. What would that do to you? Or me?"

"I’m sure" she said in a firm tone of voice, "that nobody will recognize you Donnie."

"You did!"

"No, I said I saw your mother with a cute girl. I guessed the rest, and it looks like I was right. You just confirmed it.

Needless to say, I did not answer her. She had easily trapped me into a confession, and as she left, I wondered just how I could manage to do what she wanted. I was dismayed that I was dumb enough to fall for her trap. I’m awkward, thought I wasn’t very pretty, and still clumsy in heels. Oh, I wanted to do it, dress as a girl and work there that is, only my dread at being found out held me back. I knew that I would have to tell mom, there was no way I could not tell her. I would have to dress as a girl or lose my job, which Mrs. Dobson told me would happen. A rock and hard place is where I was. I was making $8 an hour now, but if I did what Mrs. Dobson wanted, I would make ten, which is a lot of money every week. That alone tempted me to just do it, but either way, I would have to tell mom. Mrs. Dobson and I traded stares for a moment, then, as she started to walk away, she told me to report to her office, as the girl she saw at the store, at nine o’clock in the morning, the first day after school let out. It didn’t sound like a request to me. What did she know that I didn’t?

For the rest of the day I thought about it, but I was still surrounded by perfume and lipstick, eye shadow and foundations. It was driving me crazy again, and no help as I struggled with the dilemma I was in. Yes and no, I wavered between wanting to run home and change into a skirt, or chucking the whole thing. Yet, no matter what I said to myself, it was a lie every time I said no. I knew that I would report, just as she asked, and take the job as Diane. There was never any doubt at all, and I’m almost positive Mrs. Dobson knew it. My biggest question was how would her son take it when he found out? Rumor had it that he had hit on every woman that worked there. In fact, all of the female employees disliked him, but with the high wages, most of them put up with him rather than quit. If he hit on me, which was not likely since I am a minor, but if he did, and I said no, what would he do? He would almost certainly know my true nature, since I could not envision his mother not telling him. By the time I got home I was a wreck, then, after I told mom the entire story, I would have been willing to bet she would call Mrs. Dobson and say that I could not do as she wished. That night over dinner mom and I talked about what Mrs. Dobson had said, then I waited, without saying a word. Mom’s placid face gave no indication she was mad, but she wasn’t smiling either. We sat there for a few minutes before she finally spoke up.

"Okay, I’ll go along with this, for now, but you’ll have to let me help you become the perfect little girl."

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, the perfect teenage girl then. The money is fantastic, and given how often you have been dressing as a girl anyway, I can’t see you fighting this very hard at all. This will give you a taste of what it’s like to be a girl all of the time, and besides, you’re really very cute you know."

"Everyone we know goes there mom, and all it would take is one person to see who I am and it would be all over for all of us, especially me!"

"Then we’ll just have to make sure that any doubt they have is taken away won’t we?"

"Huh?"

"I’ll think about this. Come straight home after school tomorrow and we’ll see just how pretty we can make you, that is if you want to do this. I won’t force it on you, but I’ll help if you want me too."

That was it. I was being left to decide for myself, and of course, if I say yes, then it will merely confirm what everyone thought. I was hoping that mom might tell me to do it. That way I could say I was trapped into it without a choice, yet somehow, deep inside, I knew that would not happen. Mom was letting me decide, but if I said yes, what will happen to our relationship? She and I are pretty close, at least as close as a mother and son can be. What will happen to us if I become a daughter? Mom’s clear blue eyes stared back at me, a wisp of hair in her face as she waited for me to either confirm or deny my destiny. Curiosity about living life as a girl had overwhelmed me almost from birth, and now I had the chance to find out. "Okay mom, but I don’t want to look strange."

"When we are done honey, you’ll be a real doll, trust me. I don’t want a tart for a daughter either, so I think we agree."

Without a word I went to my room and stripped, checking my body for extra hair. There was enough to make me fill the tub, add bubblebath, then slip into the hot water and shave my body. By the time the water was cold, I was as hairless as any girl, maybe more so, the oil in the water making my skin smooth to the touch and a little softer. I rubbed in some skin lotion, then went to bed, anxious about my future.

The next day, school was mercifully short, and not one thing got accomplished. I walked in the house just before eleven, but mom wasn’t home. I made a sandwich and watched the news while I waited for her. When I heard the car, I shut it off and waited in the kitchen. I saw the bags in her hands first, then her smile.

"I bought you a few things to make this easier on you. Lets go to your room and see how everything fits."

I was told to undress to my shorts, which I did, then mom opened the first of several bags, and out came a very realistic breast! She gave me one while she held the other.

"Your Grandma used these when she had that mastectomy. She was small breasted, and I think these will be perfect for you. When she died they went into storage, so I went to the house and after a little time, I found them. Then I stopped at a shop and bought the right adhesive. All we have to do is mark where they go, then set them in place once the glue gets tacky. Stand still now."

Mom held one in place, made a mark, then did the other side. She put the glue on the breastforms, then on my chest, waited a minute or so, and very carefully pushed them, one at a time, against my skin, holding them in place until she was satisfied. When she let go, I had two very perky breasts, their color very close to my skin tone, and unless I looked closely, could not see the seam.

"You’ll have to find a way to hide the rest Diane, but I know that you can. Lets get you dressed now."

With that, mom handed me a pair of new panties, plain white cotton, full cut. Once I had them on, she took me to her vanity then set out some brand new makeup and told me to go ahead, she would watch, but told me not to go overboard. I put the foundation on, covering my face completely, then used the translucent powder, waiting until it looked blotchy before I brushed away the excess. Under each eye I used a soft green pencil while on the upper lid I used the soft brown eyeliner. The blusher mom had bought was peach, a new color for me, but as I brushed it on I saw how much better it was. Once I got that far, mom set my hair in rollers, pulled a plastic cap on my head and we went back to my room. Mom handed me something new, a handful of small oval pads.

"Slip then under your panties dear. They will give you a rounder shape."

I did as she told me, then pulled on the pantyhose, and adjusted the pads a little better. The skirt was pink, with pleats in front, the blouse white with a round collar. I slipped my feet into the white flats and looked in the mirror. The girl that looked back resembled me, but it was hard to tell with that plastic cap on my head. Then mom sat me in my chair and took out the rollers, and began to brush out my hair. I saw her in the mirror as she created a very nice bob, one that was popular with a lot of girls my age. Smiling, I went to her room, picked up the reddish pink lipstick, and drew the color on my lips. The natural cupids bow shape, unseen as a male, took shape and gave my face a very feminine quality. Mom pressed some small earrings into my hand, and when I looked, I saw they were for pierced ears, which I did not have. She fastened the gold necklace around my neck, told me to put everything in my old wallet into the new one she had, then meet her in the kitchen. Once there, she cured my lack of pierced ears with an ice cube and a needle, inserting the new earrings, one into each lobe.

When I looked in the mirror this time, I saw a real girl standing there! With every step I took, my new breasts bounced, I felt it, and by the way they pulled at my chest I knew why girls wore bras. That could get tiring after a while. Admiring the vision that stood there, I knew I could do this, and get away with it. All traces of my male self were gone, replaced with a girl that had short blond hair, perky, and very sexy boobs, long shapely legs, and a killer smile. Her name was Diane, and she was me. Mom broke me out of my reverie when she took my arm in her hand.

"Diane!"

"What" I said a bit dreamily.

"About all you have for clothes are the few skirts and dresses we bought the other day. We should go to the mall and get you enough clothes to get by on, at least for a while. That’s your only bra for instance, and since we have the rest of the day, why not do it now?"

One more look in the mirror was all it took for me to say yes. When I saw myself in the mirror, the girl I knew I had inside come to life, my fears seemed to wash away, and I nodded my head yes. Within the half hour we were at the mall, my first time there dressed as a girl. I did not feel nervous, a bit edgy maybe, but I knew that I looked just like a 15 year old girl. I had the boobs, hips, hair, looks, and more importantly, the will to be this girl, and that gave me a sense of confidence unknown before that day. I had only a passing idea of girls clothing sizes, but mom knew what she was doing, and together we began to increase my very small wardrobe, starting in the lingerie shop. What I found out is that I wear a 34 A bra, size 6 panties, a size 8 dress and size 7 shoes. According to mom, I had the perfect sizes, then she began to guide me through the art of buying lingerie.

"A girl your age doesn’t need an underwire or padded bra, but they are fun to wear, so you can get one of each, all of the others will be rather plain I’m afraid."

Panties, slips, skirts, a few dresses, two sweaters, some slacks, jeans plus an assortment of tops and blouses, all in bags that were dragging me down, so we took them to the car and returned to the mall. Then came shoes, some cheap jewelry, hair care items, and finally, I had my makeup done by a pro. Mom bought some of everything the lady used on me. By the time we got back home I was on edge as the adrenaline that had been bolstering my courage all day began to wane, and the reality of what I was about to do set in, and I got a severe case of "I can’ts". It was only when I was safely at home, and mom told me to try on everything, that I calmed down. Mom let me try things on by myself, and I discovered the benefits of a padded bra. I had cleavage with that one on! When I finished trying things on, I put on the new jeans, my sandals with a pink top and went to the kitchen. Mom looked me over, then she and I had a sandwich.

"Your hips look a little fuller."

"I moved those pads around and added the other two you had."

"Are you going to just show up for work tomorrow? Maybe you should walk over there and see Mrs. Dobson today. That way she will be prepared for you in the morning."

I was going to work dressed this way anyway, so I agreed. I picked up my purse and headed for the store. I walked right past a few kids in my neighborhood, but they didn’t even say a word. It’s a three block walk, which only took a few minutes. Going in was harder, and I stood outside for a moment before I gathered the nerve and went inside. I saw Mrs. Dobson walking towards the office, and quickly picked up my pace, reaching the office just as she stepped inside. One knock on the door and she turned to look at me.

"Yes dear? Can I help you?"

"My name is Diane. You told me to report tomorrow, but I thought I would come by today, just so we could meet."

"Oh my God! Is that you?"

"Yes ma’am."

"I knew that you were cute, but you look better than that, you look fantastic!"

"Thank you. You mentioned something about some papers?"

"Oh yes, let me get them."

It took about thirty minutes to fill them out, the only false information was my name. Instead of Donald Aaron, I put down Diane Erin. The rest was true. I was given an ID card with my new name on it and told to be there at opening the next day. When I asked about her son, she merely told me not to worry about him, then she took me by the hand to introduce me to the rest of the staff! I had known them all for two years now, and it was weird to have to try and act as if I were meeting them for the first time, then hope that none of them recognized me. I was shaky at first, but as one after another of the staff smiled and said hello, all without one sign that they knew me, I began to relax, a little. The hardest part was when I had to meet the bag boys. Every one of them went to the same school I did, and two of them gave me the eye! By the time we were back in the office I felt pretty good about working as a girl, as long as I didn’t screw up or Mrs. Dobson’s son didn’t hit on me. That would be unpleasant.

"Wear a skirt and top tomorrow Diane. I want you to present a nicely feminine look at the cosmetics counter. I am hoping that you will be able to help us grow that area of the business. Right now the drugstores are killing us, but with someone to help the customer, which they do not have, we will have the edge. See you tomorrow at nine."

I felt great that I had managed to dress as a girl and not be recognized, and began to relax a little. All those times I had twisted the truth when I had dressed up before seemed so silly now, yet anything could happen, and I felt much better as I left the store and walked back home. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and I had become a girl. It seemed as if my life was going perfectly, and I grinned. I tasted the lipstick in my mouth, sensed the perfume I had on, and lost in thought, I didn’t see Tom as he walked up to me just as I reached the sidewalk.

"Hi."

Startled, I turned and saw him standing there grinning at me. "Hi" I said.

"You’re the new girl that took over the cosmetics counter aren’t you? My name is Tom by the way."

"Diane" I said, "Mrs. Dobson thought that I could manage it, and asked me to try it."

"Can I walk you home Diane?"

Instantly I was on full alert! I know Tom from school, and while he and I were not good pals or anything like that, I was afraid that he might recognize me. I know, I know, it was silly. After all, I had just walked into a huge grocery store, walked all over without any trouble, and had even been introduced to Tom, and now I was afraid? But I did not know how I could say no, and simply nodded my head yes. Tom and I walked towards my house together, which was nice, but really eerie. He talked to me as if I were a girl, which was something completely new for me. I never realized just how it sounded to a girl when a boy spoke to her. In a way, it was very nice, in another, it made me wonder about myself. There wasn’t any doubt, Tom is tall and good looking, and worse, I found myself thrilled that he wanted to walk me home. What did that say about me? He walked me right to my door, then told me he would look forward to seeing me at work the next day. It was all I could not to squeeze his hand.

Tom had sent me a message that I could not ignore. He thought I was cute, and that meant that other boys would too, and that meant that working as a girl, one of them was bound to ask me out. But me? On a date with a boy? I was excited by the fact that Tom wanted to walk me home, because that alone told me that I looked good enough as a girl to excite his desire to be with a new girl, but was I feminine enough to accept the challenges that I just knew lay ahead? It just a few days my life had been turned on it’s head, twisted around then turned inside out. From boy to girl, from bag boy to counter girl, from an average looking but solo boy to a cute girl with a boy in pursuit. I went to my room and sat there, staring into the mirror trying to resolve the conflicts I felt.

Being excited to be a girl was one thing, to have a boy interested was another. I never expected that to happen, and couldn’t plan for it anyway. All I could do was hope for the best, but what if Tom or one of the other boys ask me out? How long can I say no? I ran a brush through my hair, retouched my lipstick, then changed out of the jeans into a pair of shorts and one of my tees. Then I set the table and started dinner, trying to get those thoughts out of my mind.

When mom came home dinner was ready, then, as we ate, she casually mentioned that she had seen Mrs. Dobson at the service station, and told me that Mrs. Dobson was very impressed with me. That was all well and good, but I had some questions that only she could answer, but before I could ask mom, she added...

"She also told me that she saw some boy named Tom walking you home! Is that true?"

With a sigh, I nodded my head yes.

"What did I tell you! I told you that you’re cute enough to attract boys by the dozen, and I was right!"

"Mom! I’m a boy! Remember?"

"Yes dear, I remember", mom said, "but you don’t look like a boy now, do you? And this is what we girls go through at your age. We girls wait to be asked out, hoping we’re pretty enough to attract a boy that we like, then becoming the girl he wants us to be. Obviously this boy Tom thinks you’re pretty or he would not have walked you home. Tell me this, did you plan on staying home all summer?"

"No…I guess not, but I never…"

"Girls your age don’t stay at home on the weekends Diane, and I suspect that you won’t either. This boy, or maybe another, will ask you out. It’s up to you of course, but staying at home all summer will be rather boring, won’t it?"

"Are you telling me that you want me to date boys?!"

"No dear. I am saying that once I saw you all fixed up and watched you for a few days, there was never any doubt in my mind at all. I knew that you would be dating boys. The only question was how long it would take for some boy to ask!"

"But what if he wants to kiss me!?"

Mom was no help at all. She told me to do what I thought was right, and if that meant kissing him, I should! "After all, it’s not like you are getting married to him or anything, is it?"

That night I had to come to terms with what mom told me, and my natural reluctance to admit that yes, I did like it when Tom showed some interest in me. I wasn’t the slightest bit ready to tell mom that, yet somehow, I think she already knew. I drifted to sleep with visions, strange visions in my dreams. Tom was kissing me, and I was willingly letting him. In the morning, for my first day at work, I wore the pink skirt with a simple white blouse and white flats. Mom once again helped me with my hair, I did my makeup, grabbed my purse, and walked to the store. The day was hectic, yet two of the other bag boys came over and talked to me! Mrs. Dobson said I was doing fine, her son stayed away, and the day faded to an end quickly.

And except for one small thing, I thought I was sailing along just fine. Tom asked me if he could walk me home again. He had made me aware of my new status as only a boy can make a girl feel. He was attracted to me, and I knew it. Every sense, every nerve ending had been on edge the day before as I struggled with myself. Yes, I wanted to be a girl. Yes, I liked the attention he was giving me. And yes, I had often wondered what it would be like to kiss someone other than a family member. I had not even kissed a girl at school, ever! Now it looked like Tom would be my first…maybe. As we walked out of the store, his hand slipped around mine, then, hand in hand, he walked me right to my front door. Just as I was about to go inside, mom opened the door and smiled at us.

What could I do? "Mom, this is Tom. Tom, my mother."

He smiled, mom smiled, I tried. He was still holding my hand as mom went back inside, then he asked me if I wanted to see a show that Saturday night! With him standing there holding my hand, how could I say no? I said yes, saw him grin, and went inside. Mom was just putting dinner on the table.

"Your young man is quite a hunk Diane!"

"He’s not my young man mother!"

"Did he ask you out?"

Just how does she do that?

"Yes." I said, without any detail. I should have known better.

"Well?"

"Tom asked me to go to a show on Saturday night."

"And?" mom asked.

"I said yes."

"That sounds like fun. Maybe I can get you an appointment at the salon between now and then. You could use a cut, and a better style wouldn’t hurt either. You’ll enjoy it, and Tom will have the prettiest girl he knows on his arm."

It seemed like the more that happened to me the more mom became in favor of my being a girl. First the clothes, then the breast forms, now Tom, and a trip to her salon. My mother was acting as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a boy to want to be a girl, and to me, it seemed as if she were gently pushing me into it, just by her quiet acceptance. I sat there with the aroma of my perfume still in the air, felt the nylon on my legs and the breasts on my chest, wondering why mom was so agreeable, so I asked her.

"Mom, why are you doing this? I mean…"

At first I thought mom didn’t understand the question, then…"When you were little, and playing in my clothes it was a game. When you were 8 and insisted that you be allowed to dress as Cinderella at Halloween, I gave in rather than argue with you. When you were 12 and I found some of my old clothes under your bed, I dismissed it as a prank. When you turned 14 I found that box under your bed, and it was filled with clothes a girl your age would wear, and none of them were my size, I knew that you had a desire to dress as a girl, and it wasn’t going away. I could have demanded that you stop, or punished you severely of course, but I didn’t. First I did a little research. Boys like you never give up dressing as girls no matter what happens to them. So I had a choice. I could try and stop you, which didn’t seem possible after what you had been doing, plus what I had read, or I could help you. If I helped you, then I would have a better chance of making sure that you learned how to be a girl, not some parody, or worse, a clown. Myself, I do not see anything special about being a woman, but obviously, you do. That is why I am helping you. As far as dating goes, I am NOT encouraging it, I am merely letting you decide what is best for yourself, but, having said that said, I have to admit that once I saw you there was no doubt in my mind that a boy, maybe more than one, would find you attractive, and ask you out. It was up to you to decide to go with him or not. Does that answer your question?"

Mom had remembered every single thing. Only dad had kept each of us silent. Different reasons, but the same outcome. Both mom and I knew that I liked to dress as a girl, yet we each had held it in. Now I sat there looking as much a girl as any my age, and for the first time, the cloud of doubt that had always surrounded me and the way I felt about myself, rose up and disappeared. Mom didn’t want a daughter, she wanted a happy child. I wanted to be a girl and live that way while being accepted. We both got our way, and neither of us realized just how much it meant until this moment. I let my feelings of elation wash over me even as I saw a tear start to fall from mom’s eye. I got up and hugged her, then kissed her on the cheek and whispered "thank you" in her ear.

We did the dishes together, then I went to my room to change. It was getting late, so I put on my only nightgown and joined mom watching television. After a little bit, mom mentioned that she thought that I would look cute in a shorter hair style, and asked me to consider it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t. I had let my hair grow long just so I could look like a girl, now she wanted me to cut it! I told her I would consider it, but put it out of my mind. Work the next day was hectic and the time seemed to fly by. The day after that was my day off, and expected to sleep in. Mom however got me up and told me to get dressed, we were on our way to the salon. Per mom’s instruction, I wore a skirt and blouse rather than the jeans I had laid out.

The salon was not crowded and following mom, we went in. It smelled pretty bad to me at first, but that went away as I got used to it. Mom spoke to the receptionist, then I was led to a chair. The stylist, Brynne, was older, maybe 25, and very pretty. After she asked me what I wanted, and I told her nothing, she brought out some books.

"You would look fantastic in this cut honey. That long hair doesn’t do a thing for you, and makes you look like a teeny bopper. It’s time you changed you look." Unsure, I just looked at her, concern written on my face. "You can always let it grow back out you know, but I’m right, and if you let me, I’ll prove it."

Well, Brynne cut my hair, then styled it in a way that made me look even more like a girl than before! Soft waves on the sides with curls across the back and simple bangs, it made me look older, and to my eye, wonderful. Still glowing, she had the manicurist start on my nails, and half an hour later, I walked out of the salon feeling more like a girl than before, if that was possible.

That was a major turning point for me. I quit worrying about how I looked, and simply enjoyed my new status as a girl. Tom and I went to the show, and sure enough, just like I thought, he kissed me, and I let him. After the sensation of electricity subsided and I calmed down, he and I kissed several more times before he took me home. At work I became the girl to go to for advice on cosmetics, and our small sales began to grow, which let Mrs. Dobson raise my wage, then, by the time I was a week away from starting back to school, mom and I both knew there was no way I could quit being Diane. After some phone calls to our lawyer and the school, I was allowed to attend as Diane.

I turned 16 a month after school started, which was when Tom and I broke up. But it wasn’t long before another boy, Bill, asked me out. I fit in with the other girls because I could, and more than anything, I wanted to. In time I began to take medication to become a real woman, but the struggle of admission was over with. All those twists and turns that had catapulted me from anxious anxiety to elated exhilaration were gone now. I had become a girl in almost every way except physical, but that would change in time. That hard part was done. My inner self had conquered the fears, and now I am gliding towards the future with a smile.

 

 

© 2000

The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.