Stepping Over the Line

Giving Jon a blowjob that day in the park and his decision the next day to call me a slut was a defining moment in my life. The next day when I went to school, I went as Yvonne. I would never again attend school as Glen. Jon gave me the courage to step over the line.

The line?

Yes.  Before Jon I had been willing to live my life on one side of what might me regarded as a line in the sand.  On one side of the line, I had to acknowledge that some people (ie my father and school administrator) still saw me as a boy.  Some of the choices I had to make on that side of the line had me living my life as a boy.

It was not even so much that I was living my life according to their rules. I was living my life to play to their comfort zone. They were uncomfortable with me as a girl so on some occasions  I knew I had to be a boy -- for them.

In the last beauty pageant I ever enter as a teenager, I wore a pink and white gown.  My hair and makeup was flawless. I had rarely felt so pretty.  I did not win that pageant.  I did not even place in that pageant.  But I was in the pageant.  I competed.  And no one every suggested I did not belong in that pageant.

On the other side of the line was a life as a girl a life as Yvonne.  It did not ask permission of others to be a girl.

Over the summer months following my decision to step over the line, I would often find myself on my knees sucking some boys cock.  I did so probably about twenty times.  Over three months, ninety days, I went down on my knees maybe twenty times.

That means there were seventy days when I did not suck cock, seventy days in which I was a girl and being a girl was not a question of whether or not I would suck cock, but rather simply who I was.

That summer I often found myself at the mall.  At the mall, I often found myself flirting with boys and sometimes those boys would flirt with me.  Did I suck cock every time a boy smile at me or every time I found a boy I liked?  No.

One day I was at the mall and hanging out with some friends. When  Jane stood up to go to the girls room that day she did as girls often do, she asked if any of the other girls wanted to join her.  Marianne did but  before they headed off, Jane said, "What about you Yvonne?  Want to join us?"

Some might say that my willingness to suck cock defined me as a slut.  And maybe it did.  But when Jane invited me to use the public washroom with her and Marianne, they said so much more about me being a girl.

Why did I stop entering pageants?  Because I was reaching an age where being a beauty contestant was more about something a girl did than about something a mother and a daughter did.  When I was a younger contestant, I was no different than any other contestant.  My Mom helped me dressed, did my makeup and held my hand throughout most of the process.  I was coming to an age where girls were telling their Moms to go sit in the audience  with the other moms and left them dress themselves and do their own makeup and hold each other hands.

My relationship with other girls was changing.  I did not like the dishonesty of competing against these girls if they did not know the truth.  I had two choices  -- tell them the truth and compete or bow out.  At the time I decided maybe beauty pageants were taking too much of my time so I could a graceful exit from the world of beauty pageants. It would not be entirely inaccurate to suggest that I felt pageants were eating up time I could have spent with boys. Below is not my last performance but I would have love to have given something like this song as a last performance.