On the night when Asher prepares for a coming out party the memories of what led up to this moment come back to him.

“Whose dress is it?” my mum asked, holding it towards me. Her face said, ‘don’t mess with me, I’m not in the mood’ and I knew better than to pick a fight.
“Mine,” I sighed.
She smiled. She was getting somewhere. “And what did Daddy say when he bought it?”
I sighed again. It was obvious I wasn’t going to win this one. “Well?” she was still holding the dress and I was still sitting on my bed, making no move to take it from her.
“Asher?”
I stared at my feet. How had I got myself to this point?
“Daddy said he can have it but he has to wear it,” came the voice from my brother’s room. I was going to tell him to ‘shut up’ but mum beat me to it, although she used slightly kinder words.
“Asher, I’m not waiting all day,” she said holding out the dress for me to take. “It’s a lovely dress and you look lovely in it. This evening is all for you, you know.”
I reached for it and took it from her, my spirits sinking as I did. Mum’s smile grew, she had won. I groaned. “Everyone will see me,” I groaned.
“Yes they will,” she replied, “and a good job, too, because dresses like this need to be shown off… and who prettier than you to wear it?”
I heard my brother’s laugh in the next room and wanted to wallop him one. Fortunately, my mum intervened.
“Would you would like a dress, too, Robbie?” she asked.
“No way,” he shot back.
“Then stop being unkind to Asher or I will make you wear one!” That shut him up. Mum turned her attention back to me.
“Come along, Asher, I want to see you in it. Then, we can do your hair.” I groaned and fell back on my bed, clutching the dress to me as if I were holding a person, which in a sense I was. It was me but like a different version of me.
“How did I end up in this situation?” I moaned to myself.

How did I end up in this situation? I can tell you but it has to remain a secret… except, after tonight’s party, it won’t be a secret any more, not if I wear this dress. This dress, this wonderful blue and burgundy checked dress that I saw in the shop window and really, really wanted so much that I almost begged mum to buy it for me and she said daddy would pay and I was desperate that my father didn’t find out that I wanted a dress, what would he think of his son?. But the small checks were so sweet and I remembered seeing Katie Anne wearing exactly the same dress to a birthday party a few months’ ago and I loved the collar, scalloped I think she called it, and when I saw it in the shop I wanted it, oh so much. With burgundy tights or navy blue, either would do, it would look so lovely, I would look so lovely, that I overcame my fear of what dad would say and said, “yes, please ask if I can have it”.

And here I am, hugging the dress I wanted so much and remembering the promise I made dad who I thought would be sad or mad or just really angry that his son, the one who found it hard to like football and who instead played with the girls and had one best friend who was a girl, wanted a dress to wear. So, of course, when instead of yelling or grabbing me by the arm and marching me to the car in shame, when instead of that he said, “It is a lot of money. I will buy it but only on the condition that you wear it more than once!” I said “I promise to wear it a lot.” And I meant it. Except…

Except, the party this evening is for my whole class and I know we will have fun and all the girls there are friendly and accept me for what I am, how I am, they do not know that I am jealous of them because they are real girls and can be friends and can dress how they dress and talk about the things they talk about without worrying that boys will think they are weird and what type of boy plays with girls anyway? They do not know that I sometimes dress up and pretend that I, too, am a girl and that these tights and boots are normal for me and why shouldn’t I paint my nails if I want to?

I smoothed the dress down my front. “You’ll be late if you don’t get dressed soon,” mum said. “Amy will be calling soon.” Amy knows, she has always known. She is my best friend. She was the one who let me borrow her clothes when we played at her house, and her dolls and she gave me her spare posters of the boy bands we liked and let me paint my nails with her nail polish but no make-up because, after all we were still quite young and nine is too young for make- up, time enough for that later when we are older and more sophisticated. Sophisticated is what Amy’s mum says a lot. She also says words like ‘flamboyant’. That is what I am, she says, flamboyant means that you don’t hide your true self that is bursting out and trying to show the world that I am different from the other boys. My mum agrees that I am flamboyant. I heard Amy’s mum and my mum discuss it. My mum was worried about me, I heard her. She was worried because I am a boy and boys don’t want dolls and dresses and their nails painted and their ears pierced, when we are ten our mums say and not before. Yet, I am a boy. I am a boy. I just find it hard to be a boy like other boys and I love the dresses and care for the dolls that Amy lets me have and love to admire my nails when they are newly painted and love to talk about the boy bands, I know all their names.
“I’m worried about Asher,” I heard mum tell Amy’s mum and I froze upstairs where Amy and I were playing but I knew they were talking about me so moved closer to hear and Amy said they talked about boring things so why bother listening but I knew it was important, that I was a worry and I worried too because what did it mean?

“Amy is a bit in love with Asher,” I heard her mum say and I thought yuck because we were friends but not that way and why would we spoil it with love and I thought I should maybe shout out and say we are friends but not that way so that there was no mistake but instead I heard my dad’s voice, where did he come from?
“Tell her not to waste her time,” he said. “Asher is going to make some boy very happy.” And they laughed, all three.
“Oh Tim,” Amy’s mum said… in that way. “Oh Tim!” as if he had been funny which they thought he was but I didn’t and I didn’t know what that meant, to make a boy very happy. I seemed to make the boys in my class very angry, they said things to me in an angry voice all the time.

I did not make the boys at school very happy. My brother did. Walking to school with Robbie was like walking with a celebrity. ‘Hey Robbie’, they called. Some patted him on the back, in a good way, not in the way they thumped me, laughed and then said ‘oh sorry,’ as if it had been a big mistake. Truth to tell, Robbie hated walking to school with me. Even though he is younger than me he acts bigger, older, tougher. Even the boys in my class like him and in our school no one, no one, hangs around with younger kids. Robbie is a star soccer player and that makes him okay to talk to. They ‘hey Robbie’ him all the time and ignore me, because I don’t really exist and ‘is it true Robbie that your brother plays with dolls?’ and, boy, did he hate that when I first brought a doll home from Amy’s as if he was personally offended by it and ‘mum, how can you let him?’ because it was social death to have a brother like me. I did not make the boys very happy. I annoyed most of them before I even opened my mouth.

“Asher, will you come along!” mum said, throwing a pair of tights my way. Burgundy, just what I would have chosen myself! Actually I did choose them myself. Our first shopping trip for some clothes of my own! Amy and I went to the centre of town which was good because you have to go somewhere away from where you live for your first time, but it was not my first time, we dressed up lots. “Your first time out,” she said. And it was. My first time out in a place where people were who could see me, not just an audience of Amy’s dolls, her soft toys and her mum and dad, who anyway knew I was flamboyant and didn’t mind. My first time in town dressed as a girl and I was buzzing, the electricity was making my ribs and knees tingle and I did not know you could make these things move on their own as if they were the flamboyant parts of my body and ‘hey would you look everyone here is a boy dressed as a girl’… but no one looked, what with everyone shopping and walking and moving and too busy to stop and look at how good I looked in these proper clothes that showed that I, too, could be a stylish person and not the sad person walking to school with hey Robbie.

I had denim shorts and burgundy tights in black boots. I remembered the down more than the up of my clothes because the down was where I was looking in a hide your face way but also in a take a look at your legs they are flamboyant in tights way. I had a hoodie, it is best Amy said in case of a quick hide if we saw someone we knew. It was navy blue and not so good because Robbie had one just like it, but I knew Amy was right, we could hide me in a hoodie if we needed to. At first, I had the hood up all the time even though Amy said you have to be brave and I thought this was already brave enough these tights and boots and what would people say when they saw me? Amy said I had to carry it off, whatever that meant, and that people saw what they wanted to see but I said it was all very well going to a place away from home where no one knew us but first we had to get there! When the bus came I was so relieved because waiting at that bus stop knowing that a neighbour could see me or a friend from school, or worse a boy from school, was very, very hard and I kept that hood right up and my head down and anyway that meant I could look at my legs in tights which I loved. Amy said I was acting suspicious and looked like I was trying to hide something and I said I was hiding, I was hiding from the people who would make my life hell if they saw me like this and Amy said they make your life hell anyway and I knew that was true, the times they made me cry at school or just out because I was not a Robbie boy, full of football and tough talk.

“Here, I will help you,” mum said holding out her hand. I took it and she pulled me up from the bed, making out that it was hard work, as if I were heavy or something. I laughed because that was funny and my mum could make the sun come out. She pulled off my jumper and I let her even though I am nine and old enough to get dressed myself. Sometimes it is nice to be looked after.
“Your hair is getting quite long now,” she said, pulling out some strands to show just how long it was. I was pleased. On the bus on hoody day Amy kept trying to get me to take down the hood, people will think it strange she said but I said it would be strange to see my hair so short and give the game away and she said it isn’t a game and she had short hair which she did but her face was all girl so that was okay but when I told her this she said your face is all girl too and I stopped still in my bus seat wondering was that a good thing or not?

It was my dad’s idea to let me grow my hair. Robbie was a short hair just like all the other boys person. My hair was short too because I was a boy and that was that. Dad did not ask me if I wanted longer hair but no one asked me if I wanted it cut, it just happened every six weeks with dad on a Saturday except one Saturday, about two weeks after hoody day, I noticed Robbie and Dad were out and that was okay because they were out together a lot doing things I did not want to do but they came back with haircuts and I thought, what about me, did I not need a haircut? Different styles suit different people dad said when I was brave enough to ask and Robbie snorted and mum glared at him in a shut up way which he did which made me think they were talking about me without me talking too. ‘He will make some boy very happy, one day’ went through my head and I still did not know what that meant but I knew the not a haircut was connected somehow. Dad said, long hair will suit you, give it a go and I wanted to because, well it would make dressing up easier but what did it mean and why would it not suit Robbie, but I knew why.

I pulled down the hood at last and felt the air around my face, like freedom but a freedom that is scary because it might not be safe to be in town with tights and boots and a hoody top even though Amy was right and no one stared at me or laughed or said there goes a boy in girls’ clothes who does he think he is pretending to me a girl? Amy nudged me, you are staring she said, and I told her I wanted to check that no one was staring at me, and she said don’t flatter yourself, whatever that meant, you are the only one doing any staring. I knew she was right but I had to check, and I relaxed so that by the time we arrived in the centre of town I did not want the ride to end because the next bit would begin which was the being in town and how dangerous was that! We had to thank the driver Amy always did and he said back enjoy your day girls and Amy said see but I listened to the driver again and again in my head to see if he was being nasty or sarcastic or mean but I could not hear it, maybe he was not like the boys at school. ‘Enjoy your day girls’.

Amy hooked her arm through mine and we walked through the town centre, she knew all the shops to go to and where to find all the best stuff. I tried not to stare at other people but I needed to know that they were not staring at me, or worse that they were not from our school and with my hood down and the driver enjoy your day girls in my head I felt strange, but not in a bad way. The enjoy your day girls meant he thought I was a girl and I felt both happy and strange, I did not want to be found out but if I really looked like a girl was I just really, really bad at being a boy?

Shall we get our ears pierced said Amy but in a daring way, we were too young our mums said and we needed to be ten at least but it would be good so we looked at the earrings and dreamed, some day we thought but ten is so far away when you are nine but Amy promised we would have it done together even though she is ten before me which is kind but she is like that, my best friend. Can I help you girls? came from the shop assistant. I was called girl six times that day, this was the second, and I liked it more each time it happened but even better was the girl who looked at me in the window of the sports shop.

Amy asked why I was looking in a sports shop window, you don’t like sports she said, but I stared. I noticed her when we came out of the earring place, all giggly and excited because one day, nine is too young, we would get our ears pierced, and she was there facing me. I thought how strange that we should both have chosen burgundy tights and black boots and her hoody looks nothing like a boy hoody when I paused. Amy giggled on but I looked at me, reflection all girl- like and knew that no one would say hey boy there in the girls’ clothes because she was a girl. Amy stopped giggling and said, see! She was right and it made the day better to know it and each extra have a nice day girls was more cement on the idea that this was the person I truly was.

“Pop your jeans off and we can put the dress on you,” mum said. I slid out of the jeans, not easy when they were so skinny and with just a hint of pink piping on the pockets and waistband. They were the first thing dad bought for me; after the hoody day, when all flushed and excited I returned home from Amy’s where we had played with her dolls and she said take one home to keep safe to remember the day and I did because I was sad when I changed back into my own clothes saying goodbye to even the hoody so I chose Barbie with the sparkly eyes and hid her up my sweatshirt and mum said why are you keeping her dry, it isn’t raining and I said who? as if I did not know what she was talking about and she said your doll and I remembered that word ‘your’ because it was significant. She told me that daddy had bought me some new jeans and I should be pleased and I looked at the skinny denim jeans with pink piping over the pockets and said for me?, my voice rising out of control, I was not sure if it was fear or joy but it slipped into my voice making me sound not like me and mum said who else would they be for, Robbie? I was pleased and scared, dad who liked the football sons who gave him man like thumps on the arm and talked strong had bought me skinny jeans for a girl, I saw them in the shop and Amy and me knew all the stuff to buy, so how did dad? Maybe he knew I was flamboyant.

“Asher, really, your socks are a bit grubby, they could walk to the laundry basket on their own!” mum said. I smiled. She said things like that a lot and I looked at the pale pink socks and agreed that, yes, they were a little grubby but they went so well with my skinny jeans with the pink piping that I wore them yesterday and today. My mum bought me little things that showed that she understood, even before my dad said I would make some boy very happy and I missed a haircut and he bought the skinny jeans. I found socks in my drawer that were not Robbie like socks at all and not black socks that I had to wear to school but socks in pastel colours and some even with butterflies and the pale pink that you might think were white until you looked closely. And the pants that changed from Robbie would love them pants to better ones, ones that were more like Amy’s and I was pleased when Amy let me dress up at her house that I could show that I had pants that were a bit like hers and she hadn’t even had to lend them to me. But nothing on the outside could give me away and I kept my secrets to myself like a Barbie stuck up my jumper but mum knew and she could see my secret so it wasn’t a secret much anymore, not if the word ‘your’ is used for a doll and dad went to the shops to buy skinny jeans with pink piping for the son who hated football and found it hard to punch his arm as hard as his younger son did.

Amy called it my anti- disguise, when I went round her house and dressed in her clothes. I said it was like wearing a disguise but she said a disguise is when you pretend to be somebody else and I said I know that’s why I said it and she said but you become your true self when you wear girls’ clothes so how is that a disguise? Your disguise is when you wear boys’ clothes and try to be like the other boys.

Buying burgundy tights was the best ever time I have spent my pocket money. I was still worried that I would be found out, the shop assistant looked at me carefully but Amy said she was only paying attention because I was the customer and was buying tights and she, too, said have a nice day girls without sounding mean or sarcastic. My tights, my own tights, my ‘I don’t have to borrow Amy’s tights’ tights were mine and my own money had got them for me. Amy said I should have chosen another colour because I was already wearing burgundy but I told her don’t you understand these are mine and I bought them. I left them at her house, the best place to keep my secret, but the skinny jeans at home made me wonder and I was pleased that dad had bought me the jeans but how good a secret was it if it wasn’t a secret? So, the doll came out of my sweatshirt and lived on my bed and dad did not say anything to me to make me feel bad that my thump on his arm was not as hard as Robbie’s and Robbie did try to make fun of me but stopped and I did not know why but found out that dad had told him off, dad, not mum, and maybe, just maybe dad did not need me to thump him on the arm any more.

“You need a shower really,” mum said, “but there isn’t time.” Instead, she picked up the dress and waited for me to hold up my arms. The dress fell into place and I once again felt the thrill of the hem dancing around my knees, just like the first time when dad bought it for me and I was scared and pleased, scared because it was like saying to my dad that I am flamboyant and this is what I want and pleased because I wanted that dress with the burgundy and blue small checks and the collar that I had seen Katie Anne wear and knew, just knew, would look good on me. I was desperate that dad did not find out the flamboyant secret and yet he knew so when he bought it he said on the condition that I wore it and I said of course I would wear it that is why I wanted it and he said no I don’t mean wear it just once like a fancy dress type thing but wear it because it is yours to wear and I agreed.

I promised.

I wanted Amy to see it, I wanted Amy to see me in it, to see that it was mine and that I did not need to borrow her clothes because I had a dress and I could wear my own burgundy tights and she could even borrow it if she liked because she had been so kind to me all those times and we would maybe go to town together and I could wear the dress although it was a bit much, maybe, for town and we could go in skinny jeans instead. And mum said when I was ready to go to Amy’s, why are you not wearing your new dress and I said I have it here, it was over my arm and ready to go with me and the tights were at her house already so I only needed to borrow shoes but mum said that is silly to carry it over there. Put it on now and wear it and I looked at her because Robbie’s friends would be out and would see me and so would the neighbours who might laugh and say that is what you get when you don’t kick a ball properly. So I stared at mum and thought the secret might be bigger now with more people but it is still a secret and I was scared to be out where I would be seen. But you went to town said mum and I looked at her again and said how do you know and she said daddy saw you did you not see him and I didn’t and I tried to remember all the people I stared at and not one of them was dad but Amy said relax and I did so I stopped looking and when I saw the girl staring back at me from the sports shop window I forgot to look to see who might see me in my anti- disguise.

And dad said you can’t hide your whole life and I knew he was right but how did I walk down the road in a dress when the boys would laugh or worse and the neighbours would sigh and sympathise and say, see what flamboyance leads to. You walk with me is how, said dad and he made me put on the dress and I had pink socks but no tights hidden away at home but that is okay, said dad, you can wear your tights when you get to Amy’s but just remember to wear them home, and my secret felt like it was elastic with the people who knew more than they should and when we walked down the street to Amy’s house I thought I would die and Robbie and his friends carried on playing kickball like no flamboyant boy was walking by and dad said see, sometimes the demons are just in your head and I thought they wouldn’t like it in my head with all the pounding it is doing but we reached Amy’s house and her dad said oh Asher this must be the dress we have all heard about and I thought more stretching in that elastic secret but Amy when she saw me made me feel proud, I could choose the right dress but what about shoes, you can’t wear those you need to come with me I have just the pair and we were off back to where the secret started and I could be flamboyant and have my own tights and the shoes she passed to me were perfect, strap shoes that girls at school wore and I knew what my mum meant when she said her shoes finished the look.

“What tights will you wear?” mum asked as she searched through my tights drawer. “Navy? Burgundy? White?” Burgundy would be best but I liked them all, and the red and the black and the yellow with small red flowers and the teal, the teal tights that I bought just last week when we were in town. “Navy,” I said and mum said, “Good choice, Miss” and I laughed because I knew it was a good choice but then white would look more special for a party so I changed my mind and laughed again when mum said “Even better choice, Miss!”.

Walking home from Amy’s was hard. I had no disguise to change into and Amy said I could borrow her shoes until I had some of my own and where was my dad to protect me on the walk home and would Robbie be playing in the street with his friends but I had no choice because I had to be home at a certain time and I did not want to break that rule, not when dad had been so gentle with the elastic secret. So I walked home and knew my face was burning red and if only I had a hoody I could cover my head and look down at my burgundy tights and strap shoes and enjoy the look instead of fearing the neighbours who would look at me and shake their heads but it was not the neighbours but the boys who were out but not with Robbie who would protect me to please dad whose arm he could thump so hard without hurting him. “Fairy!” “Girly!” “Sissy!” They seemed so loud but they looked as if they hissed the words through clenched teeth and I knew that my burgundy and blue checked dress with burgundy tights and strap shoes made them angry but I did not understand why because they did not have to wear them but the clenched teeth and the words they spat made me wonder if it scared them that a dress could take over a boy and I wanted to shout you don’t understand, you have to be flamboyant to wear the dress it will not change you, it will not change anyone, it is just a dress.

My dad said I would make some boy very happy one day but I did not make these boys happy. I made some girls happy. My friends I made happy. I knew that. At school I avoided boys at all costs, these boys sometimes, who saved their friendship for other tough like boys but who hated to show a friendly side to any girl and better stay out of the way if you are not tough. Their words made me cry even though I did not want them to. I got home and the boys disappeared as if they knew they would find trouble here if they stayed and they had seen enough to have so much fun at school the next day, don’t worry it will be around the school in no time and tough boys would be pleased to have a drama they could jump all over and gentle boys would be glad it was not them and some girls would laugh at the boys because they were tough boys and needed to be praised and some girls, my friends, would keep their friendship around me like a blanket, or a shawl, or a shawl in burgundy, yes, that would be best.

“I think this shawl sets off the whole outfit,” mum said wrapping it around me. “Now the shoes,” she said and I stepped into new patent leather strap shoes with a small heal. Mum helped me choose them with this party in mind and I was pleased she made the decision because the size of the party was a worry to me and there were so many ways to dress badly. I stood looking in the mirror with my proud look. Mum taught me how to stand in the mirror to give the proud look. You must not slouch and you must not frown or the look would not be proud. Hands on hips with your chin in the air can help with the proud look. I was proud in the dress and the white tights and the new shoes with a small heal and even Robbie said I looked pretty when he put his head around the door to look and mum said are you getting dressed anytime soon because we would like you at this party in something other than football kit and Robbie smiled in the way he does, just like dad in fact, when he knows mum is not really annoyed with him.

I was not proud when I reached the front door of our house, in fact I was very unproud and my slouch was very big because I wanted the hoody to hide inside. My reflection in the window was not a sports shop, stop and be proud reflection, it was a ‘you are a fool to think you can get away with this’ reflection and a ‘who do you think you are?’ boy stared back at me. Dad opened the door, saw me in my not proud slouch and pulled me into the house. He hugged me and I cried because I was not a boy who could punch his arm in a tough Robbie like way and make him proud of my football skills but was a person who was flamboyant and elated at the reflection in the sports shop window because it was a girl who stared back and she was happy to be a girl and that girl was me. When dad hugged me I wanted to cry some more but it was hard to cry when your dad said to your mum, it’s okay she’s had a bit of a reaction coming home and the place in my brain that tells the tears to fall stopped because it was making sense of the word she and that she was for me and about me and it was not an angry voice that dad used to say she and the hug and the word were enough to make me proud of being a girl.

“Your hair has got a lovely shape to it,” mum said as she picked up the brush. It was true. My hair reached my shoulders practically, long enough anyway to increase the number of times people presumed I was a girl in shops and around town. Tied in a ponytail it looked better but mum said this evening was party night and I needed to wear it down. I am usually allowed to choose a hairclip from my growing collection if I don’t have it tied up.

Dad held me until I stopped crying and then sat me down, face to face. I was aware than mum was in the background but it was dad who did the talking after I told him it was my fault for dressing as a girl and walking home and secrets should be secrets but not if you let the world in and dad said why shouldn’t you wear a dress when every other girl wears one and I let the words flow over me trying to catch the meaning but not really catching it all but it seemed that dad was not angry but on my side but also saying that I could not pretend to be both so who was I really and I was confused because knowing who I was was very, very hard, I just knew who I wasn’t. So I told him I was not a son who could hit him on the arm very hard and do the football skills that Robbie could do so well and no boys liked me anyway so I played with girls but the girls were my friends and they liked the things I liked and I knew as much as them and sometimes even more. Maybe you are a girl then and I knew that if I said yes my life could change but I was scared because one walk home was hard and full of scares so what would be a walk like that everyday be like? I think we all know what she wants mum said and dad nodded and after a long, long pause, I nodded too and just hoped that they meant what I meant and that I could have safe walks home.

“This party is going to be such fun,” mum said. “And you are going to be the prettiest one there!”
I smiled but I was not feeling brave anymore. It seemed like a good idea when dad first mentioned it. You need to stop hiding and come out to show the world your true self. How about a party for all your class to show everyone who you really are? My elastic secret stretched further but I knew the girls would still be my friends but what about the boys? And even Robbie was invited even though I knew he would find it hard but he wanted to please dad and he was told to invite the boys because he could do the inviting with a smile and they would come to a Robbie will be there party and dad joked that I had spare tights for him so that he took some attention away from me and he said yuck and we all laughed because the thought of Robbie in tights was quite something to laugh about and mum said we don’t want the attention away from her, that is the point of the party. I agreed to it but as it got closer I felt more and more sick like I should have kept it as an Amy house secret where her dolls were enough and I could borrow her clothes and why had I insisted on having the checked dress that suited me so well and why did dad let me and I said dad, why did you let me have a dress and he said you looked so happy and alive when I saw you in town with burgundy tights and boots and a navy blue hoody and I said I didn’t see you and he said I know you were too busy seeing yourself but I was inside the sports shop looking out and I knew my Asher was happy and I want, all I want, is my Asher to be happy.

“Now for the earrings,” mum sang as she picked up the new earrings we had bought especially for the party and I was thrilled because we wanted this, so much and it was a special treat for Amy and me to have our ears pierced even though we were not yet ten but this is a very special occasion as it is the party when we show the whole class that I am really a girl and earrings are special so we have them. It did not hurt and I was not worried about pain but just about being spotted as a girl and I had a few looks at school the next day and a few boys sniggered and called me names but I was used to it and loved my new earrings and I was glad that my hair was getting longer. Amy was pleased because she got a treat too and she told me it was only fair because we were best friends and her parents knew she deserved this treat because she had helped the flamboyance with only being kind.

My boy clothes went away bit by bit and I did not really notice, I preferred the new ones and was sad when I had to put the school uniform on even though my trousers changed to ones with no pockets and my socks were better colours and I knew that I was wearing the same as Amy except when she wore skirts and tights to school and how I wished I could too so my dad said you can but you have to take the step and I thought there have been so many steps and he said you have to show the world who you are and so a party was a good idea and you can invite your friends and I only have girls as friends and he said maybe you don’t give the boys a chance, you need to show the boys who you really are and then they will see the true you and who knows? I know, the hits and the sneers but dad was right, I stayed clear of all boys as they scared me but Amy was not scared of boys and was even friends with some of them, they are alright once you get to know them and dad said you had to be fair to people and you had to be honest and if you were honest they might like you for who you really are and my headteacher, yes my headteacher agreed with my dad and he was invited to the party too and he told everyone that there would be a surprise announcement but they were in for a big surprise or I was, I was not sure.

Do you have a name? dad said and I was confused because of course I had a name, it was Asher and he said no, I mean a name that you use when you dress up and I didn’t know what he meant I was always Asher and Amy called me Asher and what did he mean anyway and he said I don’t know but maybe Katie is a better name and I looked at him to say why would Katie be a better name? All I wanted was to be me and to feel right inside and Asher was my name and only changes that made me feel right were wanted and I called him dad and not daddy because he was always dad to me and he had not changed and mum said daddy sometimes and I did not feel right calling him anything other than dad. Glad that’s sorted he said. I did not know what was sorted but if it was I was glad- I had enough to cope with with a party for my friends and my not friends in my class who would get a big shock or be pleased or be glad it was me not them that wore a dress but that is okay too because I was the one who wanted, really, really wanted to wear a dress and know that it was true.

“Ready?” asked mum and I was. Robbie and Dad joined us and mum said we should have a photo, like a big selfie. I looked at Robbie and thought he would hate to be in a photo with me but he was laughing and when he looked at me he said, “You look properly happy… like for the first time.”

I was. Properly happy. Properly me.