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As Girly As It Gets - I Always Been A Girl - Part 1
🕑 Added 2021-01-19 12:13:13 +0000 UTCAndy.
Inconsistent, inaccurate, and inept. That's how I feel about my dressing. I can never seem to do it the same way twice. I usually wear the wrong things or do my makeup badly, and of course, trying to do anything but a ponytail is out of the question. So far, every time I tried to do my best, I felt like a clown. I was disheartened and disillusioned because I wanted to be able to dress, look, and live as a girl. Of course, the odds were against me ever succeeding. I'm 17, not too tall and a bit but pudgy. I have reddish-brown hair with blue eyes. My name is Andy Grant. I have an older sister, but she's away at school, leaving just my parents and me. Because of my inability to have anything I would call success when I tried dressing up, I fell into a depression. The vision in my mind simply could not be realized, and the more I tried the worse it got. I became moody and sloppy, which drove my parents nuts, but I didn't know how to get myself out of the never-ending cycle of desire vs. ugly reality.
As school drew to a close, my grade point average started to collapse, which only drove me further into my depression. Mom tried to find out why, but how could I tell her? My inner desire to be more feminine in every way ran counter to everything she knew about males and our role in society. She was not unaware of the phenomenon of course, but it was "those people over there who do that". How could I tell her that "over there" was alive and well in her own house? And what about my dad? He would freak out. Three weeks before the end of the year, everything came to a head, erupting in a burst of tears and angry, ugly words.
"Andrew, I want you to tell me why your grades have fallen so much! You've been an absolute terror since the first of the year, moody, sloppy, curt, even nasty at times! Tell me what's going on. Maybe we can help."
I was sitting at my computer desk as mom looked at me, her normally beautiful face screwed into one of bewilderment and anger.
"You wouldn't understand."
"This cannot go on young man. You tell me what's bothering you, and I mean right now!" Her red-tipped finger was pointed at me, her other hand clenched in an unfamiliar fist, her beautiful blues eyes, now a stormy gray, had narrowed and her mouth became a mere slit, red in her anger, tight with frustration. I had seen her this way only once before, when Beth got pregnant in high school.
"No."
"Yes!" She grabbed my arm and spun me around, coming face to face with me, our noses just inches apart, her eyes glaring and stern. "I'm not giving you a choice Andrew, I'm telling you!"
Her anger and my frustration clashed and grew hot, yet I remained silent.
As her hand grew tighter on my arm I also grew angry. My secret was mine and mine alone, and by her insisting that I tell her, she provoked my long-held anger at my failures. Her slap wasn't all that hard, but it sent the message that she was serious. In a fit of anger and stupidity, I blurted it out.
"Okay! You want to know? Well, I want to be a girl!"
Those few words shocked her so much that she flopped down on the bed, her eyes widening as she stared at me. Silence reigned as we glared at each other, both of us lost in the implications of what I had said. My self imposed silence was broken, shattering my self-esteem even as I held my head up in prideful anger. Mom sat there silent as she stared at me, her face still showing the shock of what I had said. For what seemed like hours all we did was look at each other until she suddenly stood up.
"We'll talk about this after I think about it some more Andrew, but in the meantime I want this crabby attitude of yours to stop. Understand?"
I nodded my head yes and she went to the door, opened it, started to walk out, then stopped and turned to face me.
"I'll bet you would be quite pretty all fixed up right Andrew", then she left! On that note I sank deeper into the chair, my foolish, angry outburst had let her in on my secret, leaving me open to ridicule and possibly worse from my father. The tears started to swell in my eyes, dripping down my cheeks until at last the flood gates opened and I started sobbing. I was unable to face the truth, scared that my desire, so well hidden for so long was now in the open. I could only guess what would happen next.
I lay on my bed for a long time trying to reconcile myself to a sure and certain punishment of some kind. Dad was a man that while unbending in so many ways, was not an intolerant man about minorities, but this was in his own house, his own son this time. I knew what his view of what I wanted would be. He would never understand me, and probably not even try. My best hope was that he would stay silent about my revelation, a kind of tacit approval. Just before he came home mom came to my room and sat on the bed next to me.
"It's been hard to hide a secret like this hasn't it?"
I nodded my head as I felt her hand on my back, gently rubbing back and forth. "I'll bet that you never get it right. Would you like to try again? I'll help you."
I stayed silent while my mind tried to absorb and make sense of what she had said.
"Well, do you?"
My mind screamed 'Yes' while I stayed silent.
"I do have some experience you know."
Of course, she did. I started to giggle, a nervous giggle that turned into another round of sobbing. Embarrassed at my lack of control I said nothing. "I'll take that as a yes. We'll see what we can do to make you into a girl."
Her weight left the bed, then her footsteps sounded as she walked out, closing the door behind herself.
Nothing was said at dinner that night, all seemed normal, and afterward, I went to my room. I tried to sleep, but visions of my mother laughing at me kept haunting my dreams. By the morning I was still tired after a restless night, yet also, excited. Mom came in and told me that Saturday would be the day. The bigger question was how would this all end? I could only hope for the best.
Mom.
My name is Audrey Grant. I'm Andy's mother. His revelation yesterday shocked me right to the core, making me lay awake that night as I went over every single day of his life, trying to figure out what I did wrong. I grew up in the seventies so I knew about people that wore the clothes of the other sex of course, and I had even met a few. But this was my son! Not once, not even at Halloween did he ever express any desire to dress as a girl, so why now? Had he managed to keep his secret even back then? I'm 37, not so old that I don't understand Gays, and so on; I went to school with a boy that said he was gay. Benny seemed okay and I accepted him, so why do I feel so ashamed that Andy told me he wants to be a girl? I mean, it's only clothing, right? He was right about his father though, Bill won't have a clue, and won't try to get one either. As a plumber, he works with his hands in a good profession, but he grew up poor and never had the chance to meet anyone that wasn't just like him. He had hoped that Andy would follow him into the trade, but it has been obvious for quite a while that Andy had no inclination that way. He wants to be a writer.
I slept badly that night as I wondered how I could get Andy to open up to me, maybe let me help him, but the specter of his father in a rage loomed when my mind drifted to a vision of Andy all dressed up. Andy is like his sister Beth in many ways, same eye color, same pudgy body, about the same height, Andy even has hair that went down his back, just like Beth. I had to find a way to tell Bill and make him understand what had to be done. Andy is on the verge of some kind of breakdown, and if dressing as a girl even once relieves the stress on him, then I have to find a way to help Andy and get his father's blessing.
Dad.
I'm Bill, Andy's dad. When Audrey told me what Andy wanted to do, I'll admit that my first reaction was to beat my son until he couldn't stand up, before I calmed down that is. Audrey has a way of making me pay attention to her without raising her voice. When she told me that she had known for almost a week, I was irate because she and I never keep secrets from each other. Her voice, that same soft contralto of hers, quavered only once as she told me what she wanted to do. She said that Andy needed to try it at least once, just to see himself as a girl, and if it went well, maybe a bit more, like a trip outside of the house. That scared me because of the neighbors. They might see my son, all dressed up as a girl. I could only imagine what he would look like! A clown in a dress! Audrey said this is important to him, very important. She also pointed out that I accepted the situation when Beth was pregnant and this is no different! I was angry at Beth, of course, a baby at her age! But as she grew larger I became protective of her, like a...grandfather. When she gave the baby away I was saddened I guess. I had gotten used to the idea that she was going to be a mother. Now Andy. According to Audrey, if I said no he'll just graduate, move away, and do it on his own. This way at least we'll have some control. I hated the idea of my son dressing as a girl, but letting him do this on his own and possibly get into trouble was worse. I gave in, but with serious concerns. Audrey told me what she wanted me to do and when, then she told me not to be there. It sounded like I was hiding from my own son!
"On Saturday morning you and I are going to take you over into the girl of your dreams Andrew. Don't make any plans for this weekend. Okay?"
"Sure mom."
Andy.
I had to wait three very long days for Saturday to arrive. Tense does not describe how I felt when the fateful day arrived. As soon as dad went to work, mom took me to her room, insisting that this was a "do it right or not at all session", and had me strip to my briefs. After she rubbed in a cream, I had to wait a bit, then in the shower, all of my sparse body hair washed down the drain! With my hair squeaky clean, a fresh shave, and a hairless body, I wrapped a towel around myself and rejoined mom. In a swirl of compressed time, I was wearing panties with my hair in rollers. She took the time to carefully get me dressed, and the results were worth the effort. My nervousness left me as soon as she began to put in the rollers, and from then on I was a more than willing subject but said nothing about how I felt.
"This is the foundation. I'm going to show you how to do it on myself, then you do yourself."
Under her watchful eye, I covered my whole face evenly. I had never used the powder, but as I brushed away the excess I could see how it made my skin look softer and smoother. The eyeshadow was a lot harder. I used a thin line of soft green, then a plum color over that. Using the liquid eyeliner was the worst! It took me two tries to get it even close! In the end, I rested my elbow on the table and managed to draw the thin black line on each eye with a single stroke. Under my eyes, I used a black pencil. When I looked in the mirror, I was simply shocked. I had never managed to do this!
"Now we'll get some clothes on you, Andy."
While I watched her, mom opened a bag and put some clothes on the bed.
"Beth wore this when she was in high school. I guess it's your turn."
I took it in my hand, felt the rods built into it, and looked at mom.
"It's called a waist nipper Andrew. Wrap it around yourself and fasten the hooks in the front, the tag to the top."
As soon as I had it hooked and zipped up, my waist was at least a few inches smaller while my upper chest seemed to swell up! The bra was one of Beth's, a 34A. It was peach in color with lace-trimmed cups that didn't look like much, but mom said it would be fine. As soon as I had it on I saw why. The cups had some pads in them that pushed up my flabby chest creating what looked like breasts!
"Push these in under yourself Andrew."
The small oval-shaped pads lifted my flesh while filling out the cups of the bra, making it look like I had boobs! I sat on the bed and pulled on the pantyhose, the nylon slicking across my now hairless skin making me shiver, and sent the wrong message to my manhood. Embarrassed, I turned away from mom and hid things. She said nothing about it, but smiled at me.
"I think these will fit Andrew," mom said as she handed me the skirt. It was short, green and white checked, pleated all of the ways around. I stepped into it and fastened the button and zipped it up. It fell about mid-thigh on me. The blouse was white with short sleeves and a round collar. I quickly put it on and tucked it into the skirt, then pulled the soft tan sweater over my head, being careful of the rollers.
The shoes were black with short heels and new.
"I bought them for you the other day. I hope they fit."
They did. It was my first time in heels, yet I had no trouble walking or standing in them at all!
"Now we do your hair and finish your makeup."
I sat as a mom began to take the rollers out. My hair is quite long, so mom did it like Beth wears her hair. She cut my bangs, brushing out the top in a curly mass, then brushed it out and let it hang down my back and used barrettes to hold up, and back, some of the hair she had brushed out. When she was done, she handed me a blusher, then a soft red lipstick.
Gold clip-on earrings, a gold bracelet, and a necklace.
"I think you can see the whole girl now Andrew. Stand over here.
Allowed at last to look in the full mirror, I was shocked. From the top of my head down to my pointy heels, there was no sign that I was male. Two hours it had taken. From the hair removal to makeup and hair, then, the clothes. Peach panties and bra, the pantyhose that made my legs look so long and sexy, the short skirt. Earrings in shiny gold swung from my earlobes, a pendant between my breasts, pushing down, accenting the swelling twin mounds of my breasts.
In all of the times that I have been secretly dressing up, at last, I had the chance to go all of the ways, not just hair, makeup, or the occasional effort to slip on a dress. Everything I have on is Beth's, but all of the clothes fit me reasonably well.
"I was right. You do make a pretty girl Andrew!"
It was all I could do to tear myself away from the mirror and look at her.
I'm 5'7" with soft reddish hair that sweeps well past my shoulders, the curls held back on the sides with barrettes, bangs that fall to my eyebrows. My face is small, oval in shape with eyes now almond-shaped, accented by the black eyeliner. I let my hands run down my body, staring at my breasts. They swelled out to a full A cup, small but nice, then down a tapering bodice to the flaring skirt. Whenever I spin around the skirt flares out revealing long, nylon-clad legs. All at once, I felt the relief I always wanted. The girl in the mirror was the girl I always wanted to be. She was, to me anyway, beautiful beyond words. Not a clown in any sense, this girl was the proverbial girl next door, and I was the girl. I was unable to stop looking in the mirror, my grin plastered on my face like a child with a new toy, my excitement clear. All at once I wanted to leave the house, go shopping for another outfit, walk the mall and sit and have a soft drink while letting everyone see and admire me; but I lacked the courage. I was more than content to be dressed, stand in the mirror, and simply look at her. Abbie. It's the name I picked for her. Abigail Elizabeth Grant. Lost in the vision I was seeing, I realized that mom was talking to me. "How about some lunch?" She took my hand and we walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, made a sandwich, and poured some iced tea. Sitting at the table, I slowly ate my lunch slowly, savoring the feeling of such openness, enjoying each minute. We washed up the dishes and I went into the small bath, retracing my lips with fire engine red lipstick, two coats. I was in absolute heaven as I looked at my reflection.
Lost in my euphoria at the sight of myself in the mirror, I did not hear the door slowly open. As I stood there admiring the way I looked, mom asked me if I had selected a name for the girl standing there. More than slightly nervous at admitting that I had gone so far as to pick out a name for myself, I hesitated for the barest moment.
"Tell me, Andrew".
"Ah,...Abigail...Elizabeth"
"That's a very pretty name. Abigail Elizabeth. I like that!" she said smiling. "I know that you said you had never been out of the house, so why not now? Come with me. I have a few errands to run anyway, and you can see what it's like."
My euphoria evaporated instantly with the thought of leaving the house, but mom merely looked at me, waiting for an answer.
"Are you afraid to talk, even to me?"
"No"
I croaked, my long practiced, softly feminine voice, deserting me, just when I needed it the most.
"Since you can't seem to find a way to say anything I'll take that as a yes."
My eyes still wide at the thought of leaving the house, she asked,
"Do you have a purse?"
"Yes" came the squeaky answer.
"Go get it, and put your wallet and lipstick in it, then come back here. I'll be waiting." I tried, but I was stuck. I simply could not make myself move. "Well?"
"I'm scared."
"Don't be afraid dear. Go get your purse and I'll wait here."
It was a command, and like a little child, I did what she told me to do, just like I always did.
The moment I returned she took my arm.
"I think it's time the world got a chance to see just how pretty you are.
Don't you?"
No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to say no. I was fighting my impulse to run and hide, against my desire to experience being a female, at least once, outside of the house.
"Let me straighten my hair a bit and we'll go."
In moments she was done, then, with no struggle, I let her walk me to the car. As mom drove along, she said nothing more until she drove into the lot and parked the car.
"I won't force you to go in Abbie, but we both know that this is exactly what you want to do, but are afraid. Am I right?"
I had sweat running down my back, my forehead was damp and my hands were shaking even as I said yes.
"I'll be with you the whole time, and I think that unless you do this now you will always regret it, and you will never find the nerve to be the girl you want to be or do anything else even remotely daring."
She took my chin in her hand and looked at me.
"Are you coming?" My voice was squeaky, filled with dread, but I croaked out another yes. She stood outside the car waiting as I unfolded myself and also stood outside the car. With a click of her remote, she locked the doors. I was committed now, right or wrong.
I walked next to her the whole time, trying to match her step and arm movements. My only fault, which she corrected me on immediately, was that I hung my head.
"Don't hang your head, Abbie. People will think you have something to hide."
I did have something to hide, but held my head up anyway, then we walked in. The grocery was packed with people, and after I had the cart mom went about putting things into it. For over an hour we went up and down the aisles as she selected the groceries for the week while I pushed the cart. I saw two girls from my class with their mothers, and I know they saw me, but neither of them gave any sign that they knew who I was, and went on as if nothing was wrong. I was a wreck inside, waiting for the inevitable shout, and while it never came, I did not relax until mom and I were safely back in the car.
"I told you that you would have no trouble and I was right, wasn't I Abigail?"
"I saw two girls I know from school" I blurted it out, expecting some sympathy, all she did was smile at me and said nothing.
We put the groceries away, almost finishing when mom told me that she and I were going to make dinner together that night.
"I picked up some nice steaks. I'll start while you set the table...for four."
I stopped cold in my tracks and stared at her.
"Beth and your father, you and I of course!"
"I'll go change then." I started to leave when she said
"No. I want you just as you are. Your father knows..."
"You mean dad knows about this!?"
My heart leaped into my throat again as a vision of my dying a slow, agonizing death came to mind.
"Of course he knows. I told him, we talked about it, and decided that you were headed for a nervous breakdown if you didn't find some kind of relief."
All I could mutter was, "dad agreed to this?"
"Yes, but to be honest about it, your father is at a loss. He doesn't understand why you, or any male, would want to be a woman. He's convinced that you'll still look like a boy in a dress, which is absurd of course. But, he loves you, and together, we have decided to give you that chance. It's up to you. As far as Beth goes, your father is talking to her about it today. How she'll accept it, I don't know, but I'm sure she will try."
When mom first saw me I wanted to die on the spot, crawl into the smallest hole I could find, and stay there. Now, she was giving me the chance I always dreamed of and wondered about. If I said no, I would always wonder if I made the right choice. If I said yes, I would have no choice but to live the truth, no matter what it was. I would have to admit that I liked to dress as a girl, a young woman, and be strong enough to stay the course and be sure it was right, or wrong, for me. If I said no, I would condemn myself to a life of turmoil and doubt. It was extremely hard, yet somehow easy at the same time.
"Dad knows? Really?"
She nodded her head yes and took my hand in hers, closing it around mine.
"If you can't do this now, with your family, how can you possibly think that you can do it later? I will not force you, but it would be a mistake not to at least try."
With my mind's eye picturing dad's rage at me, it was hard to see him accepting me this way, but mom said he would, so I slowly nodded my head yes.
"Okay then. Finish setting the table and start on the salad while I work on the meat."
Half an hour before Beth and Dad were to be there I went with mom to her room where I touched up my lipstick, then she added some perfume to my wrists and neck. If I had one I would have used a magnifying glass on myself. I spent plenty of time looking at myself to make sure I looked as good as possible. When we heard the door open she told me to stay there and not to come down until she called for me. Nervous does not do justice to the way I felt. It seemed like an eon passed before mom called out my name.
"Okay Abigail, you can come down now."
I could shoot myself too. It might be the same thing, but it was now or never. Now was the only option.
My heels clicked on the hardwood floors as I stepped down and walked into the family room. Beth saw me first, her mouth opened but no sound came out. Dad also stood up, the look on his face one of stunned disbelief. His vision of me was clownish, kind of like my own, the reality totally different.
"Damn! I think I'll just go back to school!"
Her eyes wide, a smile creasing her face, Beth held out her hand to me and I took it. Dad stared at me, his eyes roving from my head to my feet and back.
"I...I..."
"Your father is in shock for the moment Abigail."
"No, I'm...well, yes. I am in shock! I never thought that Andy could look so...or be so...you know what I mean!"
The disbelief on his face was still there even as his eyes never left me. I sat next to Beth on the couch, just as demurely as I could, my knees locked firmly together. It was correct, but it also helped keep me from shaking so much.
We all sat looking at each other until mom broke the silence.
"Do you want to become a female? Or do you just like to dress up once in a while?"
In my dreams, I had wondered what it was like to be a female, to hold a man in my arms, let him take me to his bed, be a mother, get pregnant, then raise children. The lure of everything feminine drew me in like a moth to the flame, yet, I didn't know the answer to her question. If I did, it was hidden, deep in my mind, unwilling to tell even me.
"Well"?
"I don't know."
Her hand touched my arm, gentle, yet caring. Then she dropped her bombshell.
"Maybe you should find out. Maybe you should experience what it means to be a young woman. I mean live, work, date, all as a young woman. Truly bring Abigail to life."
My heart was swelling with the very thought of what she suggested. I could live out my fantasy! I could be the girl I wanted to be, the one I had dreamed of for so long! Then the crashing reality of it came down on me. Visions of laughter and pointed fingers, taunts, and hatred rose up and squeezed my heart. Before I could even put words to it, dad spoke up.
"You all know how I feel about this. I had hoped that you would follow me into the trades, Andy...Abigail, but I've known for a long time that isn't for you. Maybe this is, I don't know. Women nowadays can have good careers I guess, and I have to admit that you look very nice. Not at all what I expected. If we agree to let you dress as a girl it has to be all or none. That means there will be no exceptions... Abigail. Family outings, work, day or night. Are you willing to do that?"
With no exceptions, dressing as a girl would be very hard on all of us, especially dad and me. It was time to pay the Piper so to speak. I looked at dad who sat there staring at me, with no expression on his face. I wished he would give me a sign, something to go by. Finally, I said "Yes".
His face never changed, yet I felt his disappointment anyway.
Dinner was pleasant after all. Dad never mentioned how I was dressed, what he expected of me or anything else. I knew, and he knew that I already knew, so why bother? Beth however was acting so antsy that she could hardly keep it in. Mom, Beth, and I did the dishes, then we all watched television until it was time to go to bed. That night I slept in a nightgown for the first time. I had, in a single day, opened up and admitted my secret to my family, shown them how I looked and hurt my father. Did I win anything? His love was important to me because without it I was half a person. And what about Beth? She was all smiles and friendly, but she could be a real bitch when she wanted to be. Smiles aside, she was quite capable of hurting me big time. Keep in mind that I had worn her clothes that day. I'm sure she didn't mind, but...
In the morning I tried doing my makeup and hair, then put on clean panties, that padded panty brief, and bra. The bra I had was the new Pushemup brand. They pushed my chest up and into the cups, which I padded with small bits of foam. My breasts were small, but almost all I and I was proud of them. I pulled on my own white shorts and a tee, then white ankle socks and my gym shoes. A dash of lipstick, then I went to the kitchen. Mom was there with dad. They both looked at me, neither of them smiled, but then, they didn't frown either.
"You look very nice this morning."
His voice sounded like a truck on a bad gravel road, making me scared again. Then he smiled at me.
"I thought about this a lot last night. When I saw you for the first time yesterday, everything I expected to see was wrong. Maybe I'm wrong about a lot of other things as well. I can't say I'm happy about you wearing girls clothes, but we'll try it and see how it goes. Okay?"
My emotions were still at the surface and I went to him and hugged him as tight as I could. I felt his tears on my face as my own fell on his shirt. Mom waited, then we all ate breakfast. Later, when Beth showed up, she ate a quick bite then helped me clean the house.
When we were done mom said, "since you have decided to be a girl, let's have another fun day and get you a few more things to expand your wardrobe."
I nodded my head yes while Beth said she was going to come along. On the way out of the house to go shopping again, Beth gave Dad a kiss on the cheek. He looked at me, wondering I know if I would do the same. I did, then ran out to join Beth and mom, leaving him with two different lipstick prints on his cheek.
The first place she took me was Sares, where she bought a dozen panties in assorted colors, two bras in 34A, a tan padded panty brief, and a waist nipper in white. From there, we bought two dresses, two skirts, two blouses, a sundress, and a suit, then shoes. White and black heels, taupe and white flats. Then I had my ears pierced. We stopped for lunch, then we went home.
"Hang up or put away the clothes Abbie. You have two weeks left in school yet. Maybe between now and then you would like to repaint your bedroom. You and I can get some different drapes and bedspread as well."
Before I could answer her, dad walked in.
"I've given this a lot of thought and made some decisions. Since you think you want to be a female, no later than the day after you are out of school for the summer, you are to get your hair styled with a permanent. You can't wear any of your male clothes at all, at any time, no matter what, and slacks are out. Also, you have to have a job by the end of the month. Any questions?"
Beth's well-known bitchiness came to mind, so I mentioned it.
"Beth said she thought it was okay, but she thinks you're weird anyway. When I reminded her that she was the only girl in her class to have a baby, she shut right up. I'll take her back to school tomorrow, and remind her how it is. If she doesn't like it she can pay for her own school. Is that good enough?"
I nodded my head yes and dad left the room.
"I told you he would come around didn't I?"
"Ya but he hates it, mom. I'm going against everything he believes in about men."
"He'll get over that too Abbie, be patient."
During the two weeks, I had left in school, mom and I picked out a color for my room, which was a light green by the way, and I painted while mom altered the new drapes. Mom and I talked about my impending change every day. I didn't think I was ready, but she insisted that the only way to get ready is to do it. I mentioned the other kids in the neighborhood, and all she did was tell me I had to cross that bridge alone.
I wondered how I was going to keep from getting killed, but the die was cast. I was about to become a girl, for the entire summer. The day before school let out, dad brought home a small vanity. He and I set it up in my room, then, after he left, I emptied my shoebox of cosmetics into it. On the day school let out I went home and changed clothes, did my best as I put on my makeup, brushed out my hair, and put it in a ponytail. Mom asked me, "How about getting your hair cut and styled today Abbie? We can surprise your dad."
"Okay, mom."
By the time I left the salon, my hair had been cut, shaped, and styled into a shorter pageboy, curly down the back, wavy on the top with bangs swept to one side, but no perm. Mom said I should learn how to do my hair without a perm. My makeup had been redone by a pro, my eyebrows tweezed and my nails filed and redone in a softer red polish. I never looked, or felt, so feminine before. I was on cloud nine as I saw myself for the first time when they were done. Every trace of my old male self had been taken away, and if any of the women that worked on me knew, or figured out I was really a male, they said nothing. Mom waited for me, and when we were done she and I went home.
She followed me to my room, watching as I hung up the clothes, then put things in my dresser.
"Let's talk Abbie."
While not a command, I let her lead me to the den.
"This dressing up of yours was a shock to both of us. Why didn't you tell us before now? We would have made an effort to understand. Both your father and I thought this was just some kind of experimentation, but now, of course, we know that it's a lot more than that."
Mom looked at me, her soft blue eyes showing concern, but not hate.
"I couldn't tell you, mom. I wasn't that sure myself."
She nodded her head, then told me we were going out to dinner that night.
"I won't make you go Abigail, but we're going, and we want you to be with us. Maybe you can help your father find a way for both of you to get what you both want and need."
The memory of how I looked in the salon came to me but I hesitated.
"Does Dad know about this dinner tonight?"
"No, but he hasn't seen you all dressed up and out in public either."
"He's not going to like this at all mom!"
"He has no choice, Abbie. Sooner or later he'll be out with you, so we might as well start now. Now, why don't you change and let's go have a nice dinner."
"Okay, mom".
"Wear that new black dress we bought, and if you need any help, call me."
In my room, I took off the red skirt and my blouse, careful about my hair, then put on the padded panty brief and waist nipper. The black dress was a sheath, that I could see fit like it was made for me. It had a round neck with no sleeves, the hem a good three inches higher than my knees. It was shorter than I imagined but really looked good on me. The new black heels went on my feet, I clipped on the gold earrings, and then the thin gold watch mom gave me. I touched up my lipstick and went to mom's room.
"Oh my! You look spectacular! I wish I could wear something like that!"
She spritzed me with perfume, then gave me a black handbag.
"I'll be ready in a few minutes Abbie."
Mom
To say I was shocked at how pretty my son is when he's dressed up as a girl would be an understatement. He makes his sister look frumpy in a lot of ways. The first time I helped him get dressed I watched his reaction. He never said anything, but I knew without any doubt he was thrilled beyond words. I had to help him a bit with makeup, but he's a quick learner, and today he did it by himself and did it quite well. I half thought he wouldn't set one foot in a salon, which was the test of course. His father and I told him it would be a perm to see just how serious he was about this. Abigail never said a word and boldly walked into the salon with me. I did not let him get a perm, of course, just a cut and style, but I had his nails and makeup done. Now he's no longer simply beautiful, he's gorgeous. Abigail still has some doubts, but they all center on his father. To say he adores his father does not put it strongly enough, and now that he has admitted he wants to be a girl, he's worried we'll stop loving him. That's nonsense of course. Do we understand what drives our son to do this? No. Will we try? Yes, but we are going to push him to the limit to see how he reacts. When I told him he would have to cope with the neighbors, he didn't like it, but he didn't change clothes either. I let my hand slide down, and I touched myself, wondering what the allure was for my son.
Comments
Brianna Demonet
I wish I would have been as brave as Abbie is at that age. She is taking to these changes like duck to water.
Urban
You are right, but it just a small story, just wanted to give an overview of been transgender from other points of view, what they feel about it.
Andrea Schreiber
I don't have a lot of experience with what it's like to write myself. 🖋 But to extend this story, there should be more in-depth descriptions, to people who are involved can be created? Or do you already have a basic framework from the beginning, which can be expanded at certain points just like that?
femmenotbi
As isual, you have created beieable characaters and captured their feelings accurately.. I am looking forward to the next installments
Julia Miller
I loved this story as well. Hearing the first person accounts from each family member, was a great device to let us know how everyone is thinking about Andy's transformation in to Abby. Keep up the good work!
J Chimera
This is a really great story and I hope you will continue it.
Sandi Shore
That Daddy relationship is so important. It was not something I was able to achieve in my transition but we did at least stay friendly. I really like the start of the story. Mom is incredible, another situation I wish I would’ve had in my transition, but mine was in the 70s and life was very very different then. It was very difficult to transition on my own, alone, no friends, no family, no job,… It was years until I was allowed back in the house. And it wasn’t allowed until after my mom died. I hope it goes much better for Abby.
Laura OLacy
This is one of your most wonderful stories! I'm a writer too. Could you leave it here? Of course.... and you have lost interest in a couple of other great stories that others begged you to continue. I'll beg you to continue to add to this one. Mom needs to adjust her pronouns...which, I know you haven't corrected yet because mom is not 200 percent sure she has a daughter. Abbie needs a chance to become her daddy's daughter. Lets have her final grades jump...testing time! And i want to see daddy soften at this dinner. Maybe Abbie should start calling him that. It would open a bridge between them faster. "I love you Daddy " buys a girl a lot of forgiveness.
