Eight

All week I thought about sleeping in the night gown. Now it lay next to me on the bed. Mom knowing what I liked to do, and being OK about it, should have been a relief. I should be embracing her acceptance. Instead, I sat hesitant. What if I want to go back? What if I never want to go back? I thought about what she said. Do I enjoy wearing girl’s clothes? Yes. Do I enjoy pretending to be a girl? Is it pretending? I know I am a boy. Correction I have a boy’s body. I had many questions and no real answers.

I changed into the night gown and panty. I sat on the bed waiting for Mom. Looking down at my body, I felt self-conscious and embarrassed. I thought about sliding under the covers. Instead, I got up and walked to the family room.

I could feel myself blushing when Mom turned and looked at me. I gave her a weak smile. She appeared to be delighted. I felt better.

“Come sit,” She motioned for me to sit next to her.

I sat.

“You look very pretty,” She brushed my hair behind my ear. “Maybe tomorrow we can do something with your hair. Would you like that?”

I nodded, smiled, “Yes."

“Your sister and I went through everything in the spare bedroom. She is happy to give you what you want in the room,” Mom looked at me.

“Thanks. That ‘s great,” I already was wearing what I wanted.

“I bought you some panties and bras. They are in your top draw,” Again, she paused.

“Thanks,” I wanted to go see what she got me.

While in the house you can dress how you like. We just ask that you don’t barrow our stuff or go in our rooms."

She wanted my acknowledgement, “OK."

“You’ll find some make-up on the dresser in the spare bedroom. That is yours to use."

I couldn’t believe everything she was telling me. I hugged her, “Thank you."

After hugging she got serious, “For now, I don’t want you leaving the house as a girl. In no way should you take that as your sister, or I are embarrassed of you. I just think it would be safer for you if nobody knew until you decide what you want."

I looked at her. I was fine with that. I didn’t want anybody else to know. I thought about what she said, until I decide, “What do you mean?”

“Like all young people, you need to think about your future. In your case, you have more options to consider."

I thought about what she said.

“Would you like to see a counselor?”

“I don’t know." I never thought about that.

"It may be good to talk to somebody, not family."

“If you think I should,” It would be nice to discuss how I felt. Maybe they could give me some insight or direction.

“I think it couldn’t hurt,” she smiled.

I hugged her again, “Thanks. I love you."

“I love you,” Mom rubbed my back.