Mommy Can I Be A Girl

For now let's forget questions of why it happened or how it cam to be and simply focused on the moment. Mom and I were in my room. She was helping me learn how to read and I had just selected my favorite book for us to read.

As it was my favorite book and as we had read it before, we began by looking at the front cover of the book.  We  loved to check out everything the little girl was finding inside of her toy chest.

On this particular occasion, I found myself fixating on the little girl in the picture and I said to my Mom, "What I like most Mommy is  the little girl."  I paused  and then I added, "She is so pretty. I bet she likes being a girl.  I know I would love being a girl just like her."

My mom looked at me for a long moment.  She seemed quite happy. Or maybe I should say content and then she agreed with me that the girl was a very pretty little girl and acknowledged that she understoond how I felt.

Mom and I had been playing a pretend game for as long as I could remember.  After my Dad headed off to work and once my older brothers were off to school, Mom would pul out a suitcaise we kept in my closet and dress me up in the clothes that we kept in the suitcase.  It was our secret.  That it was a secret does not mean that no one else knew what Mommy and I were doing.  What they did not know is that it is something we did almost every day we could, every chance we got.

As my Mom turned the pages of the book, more to do something with her hands than for any reason that dealt with reading, she considered my words and then said, "You know we should do something about that."

"About what, Mommy?" I asked.

"About your being a girl.  All the time."  She must have seen my eyes lighten up at the mere prospect of being a ltitte girl as she quickly cautioned, "I can't make any promises yet, but maybe we should start thinking more about who you want to be and less about . . .   Well, less about, you being a boy all the time."

And understanding that my Mom was pretty much just saying some of the things she had said before, mostly when I was Yvonne, I replied.  "Mom if I could be a girl all the time that would be the bestest thing in all the world."

"Best thing, dear.  'Bestest' is not a word.'  And then she added, "I will see what I can do.  But no promises, okay?"  I nodded with a smile.

That night as I was asleep my mother -- as I would learn later that she often did -- slipped into my room and dropped a cassette into my player. It would play continuous for the next two hours or so -- until such time as my Mom would go to bed. As she would share years later, I listened to this video and similar videos pretty much every night for several years.

As I mentioned playing dress up was something we did when my dad was at work and my older brothers were at school. This video captures the essense of these playtimes. It should be noted that during this time it was not just me at home.

There was also my youngest brother Joseph. Joey was two years younger than me and did not yet see it as strange for his big brother to be dressed as a girl. When I was older, Joey would be the only brother of mine who fully accept me as Yvonne. He would be the only brother who I felt loved me as Yvonne. This is not to say that my two other brothers did not appreciate Yvonne in their own way as you will learn.

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