Sunday, August 31, 2025

First Dressing

Another new bit of my book.  I'm writing interludes about my transition as "in between semester" bits.  So meta!

            Back in the seventies, kids were left alone all the time.  “Just be home when the street lights come on” was the common time limit.  Still, being left for a weekend at thirteen?  That showed trust…

Interlude II: First dressing

Saturday, October 6, 1979.  Pope Firmly Depends [sic] Church Restriction On Contraception

Wow!  I couldn't believe my parents agreed to the idea!  They and John went to the house in Delaware that dad was fixing up for the weekend… and I got to stay behind ALONE.  John was on the football team, but they had an off weekend with no game.  As dad also had off that weekend, off they went. 

Interlude II: First dressing

Saturday, October 6, 1979.  Pope Firmly Depends [sic] Church Restriction On Contraception

Wow! I couldn't believe my parents agreed to the idea!  They and John went to the house in Delaware that dad was fixing up for the weekend… and I got to stay behind ALONE. John was on the football team, but they had an off weekend with no game, As dad also had off that weekend, off they went.

My jobs were threefold:

One- deliver papers for John's Evening Phoenix paper route. In addition to my own.

Two- take care of the dog

Three- Make sure the house doesn't burn down.

The third one sounds like a joke, but it wasn't.  During the previous summer (1978), there were a series of arson fires in a house across the street. The fifth killed four people: Father, mother, and two sons, the youngest of whom was John's age. The one daughter was convicted of murder.  

In any case, I was ready for this weekend.


Sears Catalogue 1979.  I had this outfit (note the clogs!)


Once the previous spring, while the rest of the family were a way visiting relatives, I tentatively tried on one of my mom's dresses.  By then, I was able to articulate my dark secret: inside I was a girl.  That made me a freak. I also had to make sure I never, ever, let anyone guess that truth.  Learned that the hard way when I was four.

In any case, I tried on one of mom's dresses.  It was way too big on me.  I felt so guilty.  What was I doing?  Stupid, STUPID FREAK!  She would figure out I did this.  How would I explain it?  I was going to be caught!  Add to that the whole idea of me being in a dress to begin with…   After some guilty and desperate thought, I figured I would feel less guilty if the clothes I tried were my own.

So, using the paper route money, I ordered some things from the Sears and JCPenney catalogs:  A dress that should fit my short, tiny frame, a skirt, blouse, and (Horrors!) a bra!  As I was always home from school before anyone else came home, it was easy to intercept any packages in the mail.   Then it was just a matter of waiting for an opportunity.  Hiding the clothes was easy: my bedroom was in the attic and was also the family storeroom. I hid everything among the boxes and things.  No one ever found them.

So, this weekend, I was going to try on this... this… gay freak girly stuff.   And I did!  I used bunched up tube socks to fill the bra cups. (Eventually, I’d use water balloons.)  The clothes pretty much fit.  Lucky me.  And what’s with the buttons being backwards?  Anyway, I borrowed a wig that Mom never wore anymore and looked in the mirror.     

Oh God! I looked TERRIBLE!  Like a boy in a dress!  But past the guilt and shame, I felt… What was this feeling?  Years later, I figured it out.

I felt Right.  At Peace.

Yes, I looked awkward and ugly, but I felt that I finally was seeing myself.  Who I should have been all along.

 

Over time, my presentation improved.  As the girls in school were changing- blossoming, I was left behind. But for these short, blessed times, I could pretend I wasn't.  I could be the girl I was inside.  I knew eventually I would hit puberty (I was thirteen), and it would change me into something… I didn't want to be.

I just had to be very careful in these times.  If I were caught...  I didn’t even want to think about it.

But for those fleeting moments, I had peace. 


 

 

I never dared dream that the girl in the mirror would someday become a woman.


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