How It Was - Part 1

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There are so many really talented writers here on BCST, and I'm definitely not one of them. This is just something that has been rattling around in my brain for the last few days and if there really are Muses, mine has been bugging me to write this. I argued, "I'm a musician dammit, not a writer!" The Muse said, "Do it anyway". I came back with, "If I can't do something well, I'd rather not do it!" She countered with, "Don't be so friggin' arrogant. You'll never write like many of them at BCST, that's for sure, but do it anyway!" So then I said, "Yes Ma'am!"

First off, some will say, "you start out at 5 years old, how could a 5 year old write this?" Consider it a peek into the child's brain, not as something actually written by the 5 year old, k? Please? :) If anyone reads this and it doesn't bore them to tears, I'll post the rest of it.
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August 1960

Today is my birthday and I'm 5 years old! My Daddy and Mama got me a new bicycle for my birthday, it's red and really pretty but so big I have to stand on a box to get on it. My Daddy helped me learn to ride it in the yard and I fell down so many times but I didn't get hurt and real soon I could ride it without falling down... much.

I love my Daddy and Mama. Mama holds me and my little sister, she's 3, on her lap and sings and reads to us and tells us stories about our cousins back east that my sister and I have never met yet. Daddy doesn't talk much or play with us much, he's busy a lot, he works real hard in his Cabinet Shop. When he comes home from work, I'm so happy to see him I run and give him a big hug and he smells like sawdust. I love how he smells. I know my Mama and Daddy can do anything and won't let anything bad happen to us.

Mama made a birthday party for me and we had some kids come and they brought me presents. Julie and Holly came, they are sisters who live across the street. Julie is 5 and Holly is 7, and David and Kelly came too, they are brothers who live down the road a little, they are twins and both my age. They gave me some nice presents; toy cars, a squirt gun, some school stuff, and Mama and Daddy got me some clothes and the bike and a toy airplane. David and Kelly were not very nice to Julie and Holly and asked me how come I had girls at my party. I don't know why they asked me that, Julie and Holly are nice and fun to play with, and I get along better with them than David and Kelly or most any boys.

I don't like playing war or wrestling and fighting or the way the boys act most of the time, and Julie and Holly are not like that. We play house, or paper dolls and other games that are fun and never wrestle or play war or fight. David and Kelly have a big sister too, her name is Diana but she's too old for me to play with, she's 12. She's tall and real pretty, and has long brown hair and takes accordion lessons. I want to be just like her when I grow up. I already told Mama and Daddy, that I wanted accordion lessons like Diana, but they haven't gotten me any yet.

It was a fun birthday but I still want a speedometer and headlight and taillight for my new bike so I told Daddy but he didn't smile and didn't answer.

September 1960

I started kindergarten today. I didn't want to leave home and Mama but she said I had to go. I cried for a while but then after a while I stopped. The teacher was nice but she's not Mama so I was still a little scared. Some of the things we did were fun and there are a lot of kids to play with, more than I've ever seen at one time before. Some of them are nice and some of them are mean to me. I like the girls better than the boys. The boys are rough and nasty, I don't like that. I'm like the girls and I don't understand why I have a boy's thingy down there that makes everyone think I'm a boy. I'm like the girls but even the girls still think I'm a boy and so most of them are not really nice to me and some of the boys were mean to me too and called me a girl. I felt happy that they called me a girl because I know I am one too, but I know that they meant it in a mean way so it makes me sad and I don't understand.

November 1961

Today Daddy took me with him to downtown to the hardware store and then after that we had to go to some guy's house, 'cuz Daddy's building new cabinets for it. When we got in the car, Daddy said he was going to the store for some kind of plug thing. I don't remember what it was called but he said he needed to get a female one and he asked me if I knew the difference between a female plug-thingy and a male one. I didn't, so I said, "no", and then he told me. A female one has an opening that goes in, and a male one has a part that sticks out and plugs into the female one.

I knew then that he was saying that the plugs were like boys and girls because I can just barely remember seeing my sister naked when she was real little and would get a bath. I remember wondering why she was the way she was down there and I had this ugly stupid thing hanging there. I told Daddy, "I like female better", and he asked me, "Why?", and he looked and sounded a little bit like he didn't like what I said so I said, "I don't know. I just like the word better, it sounds better". I'm not sure, but I feel like I might have said something I shouldn't have. I hope my answer fixed it well enough. He didn't say anything else after that for a while and that was all there was about that.

The ride to town was long and boring so I pretended I was a beautiful little princess being kidnapped and taken away somewhere. I bet Daddy was wondering why I was looking so sad, I was just acting sad 'cuz that's how a princess would be if she was taken away I think, but I didn't tell Daddy that's what I was pretending cuz I think he might not like it even though I don't really know why.

October 1962

Daddy set up his electronics workbench in my bedroom because it has a little closet where my clothes are, and another bigger room on the other side that I don't know what it's for, but it's big enough for his hobby stuff. He likes to work on fixing radios and other electronic things sometimes when I go to bed. I like it when he's in here with me.

He gave me a radio he fixed and put it on my nightstand beside my bed. Every night when I go to bed, I turn it on. It's square and made of wood. I like how the numbers around the square dial light up in the dark, and I listen to the music on it until I fall asleep. I think I even can still hear it in my sleep. I love the pretty love songs like Johnny Angel, Oh Donna, Go Away Little Girl, and Sherry Baby. I picture myself as the pretty girl in the songs, with long wavy hair and a beautiful dress and shoes and jewelery, like the girls I see on TV, and the boy singing is singing to me, and we are so sad because we can't be together, or something like that. I can tell some of the songs are sad even though I don't understand what all the words mean, but still I love the music and singing and pretending I'm the pretty girl in them.

My little sister and I decided to play dress up and we put Mama's tops on, her tops are so big they're like dresses on us, and we put on some of her shoes and bracelets and necklaces from her jewelery box and went to show Mama. Mama got a little mad and told me boys don't wear girl's clothes, go take it off. So now I know I will get in trouble if I wear girl things. I'm sad.

December 1962

We're in a brand new house now and there are no other kids on this street, none that I've seen anyway. I like to take walks through the woods behind the house, it's so quiet and pretty, it's like an enchanted forest.

I got a toy car, a little jet airplane, and more clothes for Christmas. I don't like clothes. I mean I know I can't run around naked and I don't want to, but I just don't feel right in my clothes either. We went shopping for new school clothes for the new school year a few months ago and I hated it. I hate these pants. I hate all pants. And I hate my underwear too. They are uncomfortable.

I really hate the way my "thing" feels and I hate how it looks in the pants too. I pull my underwear and pants both up as tight as I can so they'll flatten it down as much as I can. It shouldn't look like this. It should look like Mama's, or my sisters, or any other girl down there. Today Daddy told me I looked ridiculous and said something about the other kids would make fun of me and call me "high pockets". Nobody has called me that yet and I don't want them to, but I can't stand this thing between my legs and I have to mash it down. I hate feeling this thing I have and it's worse when the underwear and pants don't hold it tucked in.

I've wondered if I could cut it off with scissors but I'm pretty sure that would hurt really a lot so I haven't tried it because I hate pain too. I asked Mama if we could get pants that are not real stiff like most jeans are, I really hate them. And I hate it when pants puff out in the front and make a big bulge there. Mama got a little angry at me and said "well you're a boy and you have to wear pants!" and then I felt my face burning and I got embarrassed and really sad.

I know I'm a girl inside and I don't understand why I'm a boy on the outside, and can't just be a girl anyway. I know I have girl stuff inside and someday the outside will change into a girl's outside too, and then they'll all know and be sorry they kept telling me I'm a boy, and then I can be myself and not have to act like a boy for them anymore.

June 1963

Today was the last day of school and now it's summer vacation! Yay! I have three months to stay home, ride my bike and play. I'll be in 3th grade when we go back in September. Blah.

I don't like school. Nothing has changed much in school since kindergarten, the boys are mean to me or ignore me and that's fine because I really don't have anything in common with them anyway. A few girls are nice to me but most of them ignore me too. Ever since kindergarten my teachers have said I was shy. I guess that's one reason I don't make friends very well.

They may think I'm shy, but it's because I have to hide how I really am. I don't know how to act or what to do. If I try to act like the boys, it never works. They just laugh at me anyway. I don't get the games they play or stuff they like. Like a few days ago, a couple boys were talking about some movie they saw on TV and they thought it was really neat when the monster was tearing apart the town and killing all the people. How can anyone like something like that? I think that's horrible.

I watch TV shows like Gilligan's Island and imagine being as glamorous as Ginger, with all the beautiful dresses, and the men watching out for me and protecting me, or that old show Sky King, and I'm Penny, even though she's not as glamorous as Ginger. But I know I can't tell anyone. I don't fit in with the boys and I don't want to. But, if I be myself and be a girl, they make fun of me, or pick on me, or get mad at me for acting like a girl. Why can't I be what I am?

October 1963
We moved out of our new house and into a beat-up one out in the country. Daddy will remodel the house. This one has a huge backyard, they said it's 3 acres big and behind that is more woods and on the other side too. We haven't seen any other kids around, I don't think there are any close by and our street only has 3 other houses on it. Remember Diana? Well I don't know where she is because we moved twice now and they even moved away before we did anyway, but now I got Daddy and Mama to get me accordion lessons just like her! Yay!

July 1964

When I kissed Mama and Daddy goodnight last night like I do every night, Daddy told me, "You're old enough not to kiss me goodnight anymore!" It surprised me and hurt my feelings. My eyes got wet and I said, "Why can't I?" and he said, "because boys don't kiss other boys!" It made me sad but I said "Okay, Daddy" and went to bed.

March 1965

I'm cleaning Daddy's cabinet shop out after school and he's paying me 25 cents a day. I hate sweeping the dust and breaking up the scrap sticks and getting splinters in my hands, but it's a job and there's nothing else out here, no place else to work even if they'd hire a 9-1/2 year old, so I'll do it.

My teacher at school has been teaching us some Spanish. Today we learned how "le" and "el" are masculine, like male, and "la" is feminine, female. Even just the words "le" and "el" feel so wrong to me, and "la" feels so right. It's just like when Daddy was telling me about male and female plugs and I said I liked female better. Words I never have even used, the feminine words feel right, they say to me, "This is YOU", and the masculine words say, "Nooooooo!"

I learned another new word today. Sissy. I heard someone say that girls who act like boys are called Tom-boys and it sounded like it was OK to be one. I know by now that everyone thinks I'm a boy because of what I have down there, so I asked Mama that if girls who are like boys can be Tom-boys, can I be a Tom-girl and be like a girl? Or maybe it should be with a girl's name, there's a really pretty girl in school named Cyndi, so maybe a Cyndi-girl?

Mama looked a little mad and said, "No, that's not called a Tom-girl or Cyndi-girl, they call boys like that a sissy!". So I said "OK, I can be a sissy then?" She said, "No! Nobody likes sissies and they beat them up! You want everyone to hate you and beat you up?"

So then I knew that being a sissy was not a good thing and I could not be one or a Tom-girl or Cyndi-girl and I guess they won't let me be any kind of girl at all. It really makes me sad because I just know that under my skin and except for this stupid thing between my legs, I really am a girl, but no one can see it or knows it, except me. I hope the outside changes into girl soon or they find out somehow.

I think maybe someday I'll get sick and they'll have to take me to the doctor and he'll examine me, and then he'll find out that I'm a girl inside. I can see him telling my parents, "Here's the problem! He's not a boy, SHE'S a GIRL!" and my parents will be shocked and I'll be so happy, because I'll get to be who I am. I won't have anyone telling me I have to wear ugly pants, and Daddy won't be disappointed in me for playing with girls, or not being tough and not liking stupid boy games and stuff.

I dream of that day.

How It Was - Part 2

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Comments

Innocence

Welcome to BCTS as a writer. You don't need to apologize for the writing. It is good.

I would like to see this continued to see where your muse takes you. Currently, it provides a child’s view of transgender feelings. The simplicity of the writing style is that of a precocious child.

However in a way it is complete in itself. She is a child who has yet to lose her innocence. She’s at an age where the world will start intruding. Any continuation will change that. It will become a different story.

DJ

How It Was - Part 1

Well im not bored to tears in fact I enjoyed it.Thank you for a good read and I look foreward to part 2.

devonmalc

Thank you!

Thanks for the kind comments, they are encouraging. Yes, I think another part bringing her into more mature situations does take it another direction, and I like the innocence of this part on its own.... but, I already have about this much more written, up to the age of about 23. The innocence of childhood certainly gets tainted, while there still remains more than a little naïveté, if that offsets the loss of innocence at all. :D

off

youre off to a good start. look forward to more. keep up the good work.
robert

001.JPG

Thank you!

Thanks so much. :)

Sheri

You had me in tears!

I feel so much sympathy for this poor kid! I know there will be many of us who have felt so very much like her, but there has always been that "wall" we aren't supposed to cross.

Don't put yourself down, this is definitely a good read, though I'm almost afraid of the pain and frustration she's going to face.

Here's to praying that someone can see the problem and help this child.

And yes, I want to read more! Well done!

Wren

Not Bored

Please thank your muse for me, and I eagerly await the rest.

Draflow

Sympathy

Having grown up at the same time as this story, I can sympathise with this young child. It was a different world. It was OK for a girl to be a tom boy and act, dress and play like a boy, but not for a boy to do the same as a girl. Women were still second class citizens in many ways. No such thing as equal pay or equal opportuntities. Many women still gave up work when they got married; they became housewives. Nearly all women still gave up work when having children. Being a gay man in the UK was illegal. All the changes to society either originating or blamed on the sixties were yet to happen. If you confessed to your doctor that you were a girl trapped in a boy's body, then you would likely end up in a mental institution. Your parents would inist that you were a boy and would be unlikely to believe or accept that you could be a girl. Yes I remember it well and so can sympathise with this young child. I look forward to the next episode of this odyssey,
Love and cuddles,
Janice Elizabeth

Sympathy

Having grown up at the same time as this story, I can sympathise with this young child. It was a different world. It was OK for a girl to be a tom boy and act, dress and play like a boy, but not for a boy to do the same as a girl. Women were still second class citizens in many ways. No such thing as equal pay or equal opportuntities. Many women still gave up work when they got married; they became housewives. Nearly all women still gave up work when having children. Being a gay man in the UK was illegal. All the changes to society either originating or blamed on the sixties were yet to happen. If you confessed to your doctor that you were a girl trapped in a boy's body, then you would likely end up in a mental institution. Your parents would inist that you were a boy and would be unlikely to believe or accept that you could be a girl. Yes I remember it well and so can sympathise with this young child. I look forward to the next episode of this odyssey,
Love and cuddles,
Janice Elizabeth

Have you been reading my

Have you been reading my autobiography?

Sounds desperately like my life.

Awesome story!

As for your writing, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I've enjoyed your work.

This sure hit home for me, as I'm just two years removed from the timeline of the story. In fact, some of your words evoked some long forgotten memories of mine (sniff). Looking forward to succeeding parts!

Marie

Same here...

Andrea Lena's picture

...memories unearthed after years of burial...regrets and guilt and sadness. Thank you, Sheri. I'm glad you've brought your story here, and I look forward to many more.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

How It Was - Part 1

Sad that the child could not be the girl that she is on the inside.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Hi everyone

I just wanted to again say thanks so much to you all for your comments. Your kindness and encouragement have really touched me and I want to give all of you a great big hug. I'd also like to say that it was never my intention to dredge up painful memories for anyone, so if I did that I'm truly sorry. I know that nothing I can write can change the past, neither yours nor mine, but hurting anyone is something I'd never want to do. I guess by writing this I mainly wanted to say to anyone who has had experiences such as these, or is presently going through something like this, that you are not alone. Many of us share your pain and understand and support you. I think that's what BCST is really all about. Thanks again everyone.