More than a working Girl

.More than a Working Girl

written by Dauphin
I wanted to help my dad so much, and it was fun! Why do people not understand this
"Dauphin writes another sentimental story, where good intentions are punished" Diana
"The boy in the story can teach us all a lot!" Dauphin

More than a Working Girl

I often think that the world needs more compassion… more understanding… more respect. I learned how bad people can treat others. This taught me that people often forget others have feelings and people have the ability to destroy a person with just words. Let me tell you how I learned this!

My name is Ethan and I was 10 years old. I was a bit small for my age, but I was mature and quite smart. I had short hair, which suited me as I did not want to comb it every day. I loved swimming and playing soccer. When I wanted to relax I would play with my x-box or visit friends. I bet you expected me to say I was girly and had a hidden girl in me. This was not true… I was a 100% boy and proud to be a boy.

I had no mom as she left when I was born. She simply could not deal with a baby. I had a dad and I could ask for no better Dad. He gave me all that I needed. I had the best clothes and the best toys. I was by means no spoiled, but he did not say no to me. Besides the material things, Dad spent quality time with me. We helped each other clean the house, we cooked together and he would take me to visit his family as well as the zoo and things like that. Sometimes I wished I would have a mom, but that was so Dad could be happy. I knew it was hard being an alone Dad. He spent all his spare time with me and never went on a date.

This story starts one day when I came home after a soccer game. We won so I was in a brilliant mood. Dad was silent and did not ask the questions he usually did. He just told me to take a bath as I was quite muddy. I spent an hour in the bathtub, full of bubbles. I turned on music and just relaxed in the bathtub. I shouted out to Dad about the soccer game and gave him a recap of every time I kicked the ball. Usually, Dad asks questions or says how proud he is of me, but this was not the case. I just sighed and soaked in the water.

When I was done and got dressed, Dad had dinner ready. I sat down and continued talking about the soccer victory. Dad was still silent. I could see that it was not the right time to talk, so I just sat down and ate. The silence lasted for some time. Then Dad apologised and said he had a bad day at work. I nodded and told him I would wash up. He could sit and relax.

Dad worked as a marketing director at a factory that made toys. The business was going through hard times because children were addicted to their tablets and what technology could offer them. This meant that traditional toys were getting old fashioned. I could understand how difficult it was to make toys and even to sell them. Dad was good at his job and worked hard. It was more than work. He was selling happiness to children. Of course, I could understand that he had a bad day once in a while.

Later he explained that there was a “bring your Daughter” to work in a few weeks’ time. He could not understand why he could not bring me. It was stupid that it was an only daughter or even nieces. As he spoke, he was getting more frustrated and annoyed. I could understand that it was important to him and it had to be that day. I suggested he could take me another day, but he said it had to be on the daughter day!

Dad was really taking this seriously. It was a day everyone would be taking their daughters so share a special work experience. He would feel lonely that he would be the only one that could not bring anyone because I was a son and not a daughter. The boss could have said he could bring me, but it appears as if he was a stubborn man! It was not easy for me seeing Dad mope around and feel sorry for himself. I tried to get him to smile, but it seemed nothing worked. This whole thing seems like a storm in a teacup, and I did not understand why people were taking it so seriously. I did know I did not want Dad to be sad and would do anything to help him!

That night I knew how I would help. It was a crazy idea but it would also be a fun one!

The next day I went to the charity shop that sold old clothes. I had taken my savings with me and looked at all the dresses. There were so many and I did not have a clue what would be good or not. An old lady came and told me that the boy's clothes were in another section. I told her that I needed a dress for the day at Dads work.

“I never met a transgender; I read so much about it in the news. I think you will make a lovely girl and admire your courage in deciding to be who your heart tells you to” she said. I was so embarrassed. She thought I wanted to be a girl. She thought I was a sissy. She picked out 3 dresses. One was a frilly white dress with a lace collar. The other one was a denim dress with spaghetti straps. The third one was a summer dress that was pink and yellow. She then found some ankle socks and tights and finally a pair of Mary Janes. I told her I did not need so much, but she said she wanted to help me. She sold me everything for the price of one dress. I blushed as I was paying her and blushed more when she shouted that she hoped I would be happy as a girl. I could feel all eyes looking at me.

That night, Dad was still depressed. So I went to my room and put on the white dress, the tights and Mary Janes. I looked in the mirror and smiled. If I had longer hair, I would look like a girl! The dress showed the shadows of my legs and it was so strange having tights on. I was shocked at how nice the tights felt. It was like small fairies were dancing on my legs. It also felt special that some breeze flowing up the dress. It was strange but nice. On a hot summer’s day, it would be like air conditioning. At least my friends could not see me now. It would be hard to explain!

I walked out to my dad and told him that he could now take me to the Daughters day as he now had a daughter. Dad did not smile and asked me if I was being silly. I smiled and said I could be his daughter for one day! This did not impress him and he told me to get changed. I could hear him mumble as I went to my bedroom. I did not give up yet. I put on the denim dress and walked out and showed Dad. This time he smiled and told me the answer was still no. Then I told him I will get changed. I came back out with the summer dress. This made Dad laugh as he joked that I don’t give up. He did tell me it was nice I was willing to make such a big sacrifice. I stayed in the dress for the rest of the evening.

Nothing much happened the next few days. I thought Dad made up his mind that I did not have to dress up as a girl for his work. My fashion show did put him in a good mood. He was not as grumpy as he was the last few days. So it was worth it being a daughter for one night. It was actually a strange experience being a girl. It is hard to explain, but it made me feel special. The girl clothes were nice to wear. I felt so pretty and it was like I was the centre of the world. I would never tease sissies again, as in a way I had a taste of why they liked girl clothes.

Dad was late one day, where he came home with my aunt. He told me I could be his daughter at work the next day; however, I would need panties and longer hair. He gave me a bag of Disney panties. I knew now he had thought about it and I had to be his daughter in public. My aunt told me to sit down. She had hair extensions. So after her tugging and pulling my hair, I soon had very long hair. That was strange, suddenly having long hair. I could feel it on my cheeks and my back. It was actually a nice feeling.

So the next day, I went to Dads work in white dress, tights and Mary Janes. I also had my Disney panties on. My new long hair was flowing down my back. No one could have seen I was a boy. Despite this, I was very shy and stayed close to my Dad. I found out that people treat girls different. Everyone was saying how pretty I was and some men even looked at me in a strange pervy way. I remembered to sit with my legs closed as I was afraid people would look up my dress. One way I did sound like a girl is when I giggled. I really did sound like a girl then.

At one stage, I was sitting on the floor playing with one of the dolls they made. I never played with a doll before, so it was interesting. I lost track of people around me and where I was. I was interrupted by this loud voice saying that he loved seeing older girls playing with his company’s toy! Dad said I was his daughter and the boss said I should be the company’s poster child. I did not have a clue what this meant, but Dad reluctantly agreed.

When we got home, Dad explained what a poster child was. I would be in some advertisements for the company. The boss was so impressed with me, that he wanted me to be the image of the company. Then we had a discussion that lasted for days. How could I be in an advertisement as a girl? Someone will notice it is me dressed as a girl. It would be hell if people at school knew. There were so many arguments against it and we both knew it was a bad idea. However, Dad did say yes and the boss expected me to come. Maybe Dad would lose his job if I did not come. Dad also reminded me that no one could see I was really a boy, and who would really expect a boy as a girl in an advertisement? In the end, we decided that we would do it.

I showed Dad where the charity store was. I was so excited about visiting the store again. The old woman was there and she noticed that I had hair extensions. Dad told her that I needed to play clothes. She was so excited that she gave me a hug saying I have come as far as a girl. Then she told Dad that I needed a whole new wardrobe. So after a half hour, we had a lot of girl clothes that any girl would not need anything for years. Dad paid for the clothes and thanked the old woman for her help and support. She gave me a final hug and told me to be proud of whom I was, and never let the bullies make me think I was weird!

So the day came when I was to do the advertisement. I was dressed in yellow cotton shorts and a princess top and fluffy ankle socks. The photographer told me he wanted the pictures to be normal, so just pick some toys, sit on the floor and play with them. My favourite was the dolls so I sat down and played with them. The photographer was everywhere, taking pictures of me. This was a bit annoying and I had to remind myself that this was the reason I was here. In fact, after a while, I did not notice that he was there. This meant I played with the dolls for the next hour and continued playing when he said time was up. I now was publically a girl for the second time, and I was having so much fun.

When the advertisement was over, I went back to being a boy. It was hard taking the extensions out and we had all my girl clothes in a closet we did not use. I know you expect me to say I was sad about being a boy and I missed wearing girl things. This was not the case. It was fun being a girl and trying pretty clothes. It was fun playing like a girl and people thinking I was one. This being said, I was a boy and enjoyed life as a boy. I was not ashamed of how God made me and was proud I was a boy. However, my short experience as a girl gave me a respect of boys that were transgender. In a way, I understood them and knew they deserved respect and understanding. When I told my Dad this, he said I was very wise and mature for a 10-year-old

It was a few months until I seen the advertisement. It was a picture of me smiling as I played with a doll. The advertisement looked cute and I was quite proud of it until I could see a slight bulge showing my boyhood. I could feel my heart beating quick as I noticed this. How could I be so stupid in wearing tight cotton shorts? I was by now having a panic attack. Dad found me on my bed rocking back and forth holding the picture. I showed him the problem and he sighed and told me the average person will look at the ad for 2 seconds and they would not have time to notice it. He hugged me until I calmed down. I hoped he was right.

He was not right. After a few days, there was an article in the tabloid newspaper that the factory used a transgender for the ad. To make things worse there was a school picture of me next to the ad. Everyone could see that it was me. Now I was crying and I had no one to speak to, as Dad left for work. I paced back and forth in the house thinking my life was over. I did not want to go to school but I figured not many would read the tabloid magazine and even if they did, I could just explain what happened. I had friends and I expected them to support me.

How wrong could I be?

When I came to school, everyone was staring at me and some snickered as I walked on by. Some were asking where my dress was. I looked down as I found my classroom. I tried saying hello to my friends, but they ignored me. This was how the whole day went. I was ignored by friends and humiliated and teased by others. During the morning break, I sat in a corner of the playground and felt so alone. Why did my friends ignore me? I was the same person! At lunch, I went to the boy's bathroom and these older boys stood around me. They told me that this was not the girl's room. Then one boy pulled down my pants, which made them all laugh. I do not know how I peed, but I managed. The older boy warned me never to come back as they did not want sissy gays in the boy's room.

I cried when I should have been eating lunch. To make things worse, a guidance counsellor told me she wanted to see me, so we can talk about my gender identity problems. She told me it’s not the end of the world that I think I am a girl in a boy’s body.

When I came home, Dad was already home. He told me he was fired from the factory. He burst into tears, saying the factory was like family to him and beside me, it was his purpose in life. I sat on Dads lap and did not tell him about my day at school. Not much was said that night.

The next few weeks were hell. Dad was unemployed and just slouched around at home feeling sorry for himself. As for me, I suddenly had no friends and was teased every day.

One day, when I visited the boy's bathroom, the older boys were there. They warned me that they did not want sissy faggots in their bathroom. Then I could see one punch after another punch. It hurt so much, but they kept on punching me. There were pains all over my body and at one stage I stumbled to the floor. They told me to stay there but by now I was mad and in pain. I slowly got back on my feet and looked them in the eye and said I was not a sissy or gay, and if I was, I was just as good as them. Once again, they started to punch me and I ended up on the floor again. This time, they kicked me when I was on the ground.

After they went, I stumbled out of the bathroom and was on my way home when the counsellor asked should we have a talk. I was so mad that I showed her my middle finger.

When I came home, I went to my room and turned on my laptop. I started to make a video on YouTube where I told them why I dressed as a girl and all about daughter’s day and how it was I was in the ad. Then I changed where I wore a dress and started speaking again, “When I started this video, I was dressed as a boy and now I have a dress on. I am the same person I was when I started. Yet, my friends disowned me, the school counsellor thinks I am insane and people think I am a sissy and gay. I even got beaten up today. You can see the black and blue marks. I am not transgender or a sissy. I am not gay. I really like Bella from my class! Sure I dressed up as a girl and the truth was that it was a fun experience. Who knows maybe I will try again. That is not the problem. If I do try again wearing girl’s clothes, I will be the same. People should be ashamed of bullying and teasing me. I am not the only one. There are many that are different. Some wear glasses, some are fat, some are transgender, some are gay. Many of these get bullied or are teased. Even President Trump teases people! Why can we not understand each other and respect each other? Why can we not hope that people are happy?”

I published the video.

I still had my dress on and went to cuddle Dad. I could not find him. He was in the garage with a school driver working on something. He told me that we both have been through hell, but we were strong. We can create our own destiny. He was starting his own business and working on a doll that could move and even think and speak. The doll will be like an old doll but have artificial intelligence. I did not know it then, but two years later, dad would be a millionaire and the boss of his own factory.

When I went back, I could see my video was going viral. People I did not know were supporting me and some were telling their own stories. Some friends even apologised and hoped I was still their friend.

The best was from Bella. She just put a heart in her post and wrote that she loved me.

The end.

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