When Dorothy wrote about a recently-resurfaced memory of hers, in which she shows off a dress to her mother, I assumed I had nothing that was even remotely comparable from my own childhood. Now I'm not so sure.

No, I didn't wear a dress at all in childhood. But I did do something that could be at least a clue that I had some gender issues going on even then. It happened when I was twelve.

That summer, my folks had me go to a day camp for disabled kids. Because we lived in Arizona at the time, my folks reasoned that I ought to wear a hat to ward off heatstroke. We tramped through the stores in search of one--when I finally found one I liked...well, let's just say it was not something the average twelve-year-old boy would have chosen.

What I chose was a white canvas hat, sort of like the sailor hat that Gilligan wore. Gilligan's hat, though, didn't have huge green and yellow felt daises appliqued all over it.

Care to guess whose did?

My memory is hazy at this point, but I think my mother said something along the lines of, "Are you sure that's the hat you want?" with a hint of concern in her voice. I got some ribbing from my stepdad, too, but I don't remember him being hostile.

What made the situation priceless is that the year I turned twelve, my parents finally allowed me to grow my hair out, and I had kind of a pageboy at that point. At least one of the counselors actually mistook me for a girl--looking back, I should have let her continue to think so.

I continued to wear the hat after school started in the fall, and got the expected reaction from other kids. So, sadly, I wore it less often after a while. But I remember loving those big felt flowers.

So I suppose one could say I lived out a real-life version of a TG fiction story, even if, unlike the heroes/heroines of such stories, I didn't end up transitioning at that age.

Though I imagine for it to be a genuine TG fiction story, I would have had to resist a bit, and my mom would have had to be just a bit more overprotective:

"Aw, mom, do I hafta wear this girly hat?"
"Now, son, we've been over this. I don't want my little darling getting heatstroke, and this is the only white hat we could find. Besides, you look so pretty--uh, handsome in it...."
"Aw, OK. But don't tell the guys--I'd die...."

With material like this, one wonders why I have difficulty writing.