If this is going to work, then perhaps you should call me Donna.

Something was taped to my hand, and there was a tube laid across my face. I slowly opened my eyes and took in a dimly lit room.

"What?"

"Oh, thank god. Nurse! He's finally woken up. You had us so worried."

"What happened?"

"You were knocked out."

"I don't..."

"Brad Jones at school tackled you," Sarah said from the other side of the bed.

"You screamed."

She colored a bit and Mama jumped in, "and apparently jumped on his back and started pounding on him."

"Well, it kept him from doing anything else before a teacher arrived with security."

"How long?"

"Only a couple of hours, but you had us really scared," Mama said.

"Could you two go to the same side of the bed? This tennis back and forth thing is making my head hurt."

Sarah was crying with a smile on her face, and made a short laugh sound. She moved over next to Mama.

"So, now that I'm up..." but I didn't get to finish before a man entered the room.

"My name is Dr. Lovelace. How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts a little,"

He proceeded to check me out, from head to toe, verifying if I had all my parts and that none of them were injured.

"Mrs. Lowell, David seems to be healthy, if a bit under-developed for his age. I'd like you to see a specialist so that we can start him into puberty."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

The doctor turned toward me with kind eyes. "Your body for some reason isn't developing. Usually we take a wait and see attitude with these things, but you're sixteen. Something should have started before this, but nothing has, so I'm referring you to an endocrinologist, a Dr. Alfred Harrison. He's someone who can see what's going on with your hormones."

"Is that why I'm not interested in anyone...I mean sexually?"

"It is a good possibility."

We thanked the doctor and he left. I got dressed while Mama and Sara went to get my paperwork taken care of.

I wondered a bit if that might not be the reason I was so confused. I mean, men got more masculine as they went through puberty, right? So, without the 'man' hormones, maybe I just didn't know how to act like a man.

But...if I was really a girl, wouldn't I need girl hormones instead? What if they didn't change attitude, but only made me an adult of whatever gender I took. In certain regards I began to think about hormones as being this magic bullet that would solve all my problems in one fell swoop.

That added a problem to my life. The thing is that the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. Sometimes I was sure, I was a girl. Sometimes I was sure of exactly the opposite. I'd do something and say: that was a very girly thought/action. Then I'd make a comment and think, that was a guy thing to say.

Round and round in circles I went, never doing more than catching glimpses of my tail and I rushed faster and faster. You see, that's really what I felt like at the time, that I was a dog chasing my own tail.

We made an appointment with the endocrinologist for the following week.

That week, I was frantic, and it translated itself into my art. My brush strokes got jagged and the colors were a contrast of lights and darks with hardly anything in between.

I was a wreck when we finally met with my endocrinologist.

"I don't want to be an adult yet," I said as soon as he came into the room.

He chuckled at me and smiled a very nice smile in my direction, "Someone is wound up. Mostly I need to test your blood right now, but where did that come from?"

"This is to put me through puberty, right? But what if it's the wrong puberty?"

I spent the next half an hour explaining my fears to him, and telling him about what I'd found online. He was professional, calm, and collected the entire time. He asked probing questions, and in the end he sat there for a moment, quietly.

"Well, I have a colleague I'd like for you to see. He refers a number of people my way. I figure it's about time I returned the favor. I'm sure he'll get a kick out of it."

He handed me a piece of paper and I began laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"I already know Dr. Funk. He's the one who fought for me to be in...something..." I blushed red as I wasn't sure I should be telling anyone I was in the MAO Teen pageant yet.

"Well, then I guess it's not a referral after all."

"Oh, no, it is, just we weren't seeing each other in his professional aspect. Well in his other professional aspect we were."

"Well, whatever, let me know his reaction next time you see him."

Dr. Harris had a nurse take my blood and then mom and I went home. I set the card with Dr. Funk's name on it on my desk. I hadn't told Mama about it yet, but if I was going to make an appointment, I would have to.

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For some reason I felt vaguely uncomfortable sitting in the well appointed room. It wasn't the color scheme, which was a nice dusky rose. It wasn't the chairs, which were cloth and metal and quite comfortable.

No, I think it was the fact I was the boy in the room. Because of where I was, I knew that some, or all, of these people had started out where I was. They'd just made their choice...if it was really a choice at all.

Like most waiting rooms I'd ever been in there were a mix of magazines for men, women, and children. I just sketched on my pad.

Eventually I was called back and went in to see the good Doctor.

"David, I have to say I was surprised to see you on my appointments for today."

"Hello, Dr. Funk. Dr. Harris, my endocrinologist referred me."

Dr. Funk chuckled a bit and then smiled at me, "So, how can I help you today?"

Once again I went through everything that I'd been thinking about. I mentioned that I blamed him, although I said it with a smile.

We talked about what it really means to be male or female, since that's what I wanted. After we were done speaking he took me to a small room off by itself where a computer was located.

"I want you to take a test for me. Try to be as honest as possible on all the answers. This is to help me understand where you are. It's not supposed to define you, and I will only be using this as a guide for future treatment."

"You mean you don't want me to try to 'man up' in any of my answers?"

"Usually I'm afraid of my patients doing the exact opposite, but yes, that's an adequate explanation. I'll go over your responses when we meet next time."

I took my time, and answered the questions to the best of my ability. When I was done I logged out of the computer, like it told me to, and went home.

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I'd become a bit infamous at school as the kid that Brad knocked out. Sarah and I spent time practicing our respective talents in front of each other and our parents; she was doing and interpretive dace. In general, I was happier that I'd ever been at any time in my life.

I bounced in with a smile to my next appointment with Dr. Funk.

"You seem chipper," he said with a smile of his own.

"I am. I'm having a lot of fun with Sarah preparing for the pageant."

"That's great to hear. So, let's talk about your test results before we go onto anything else."

It included a lot of technicalities, which I probably forgot as soon as I walked out the door, but the short answer is that I scored deep in girl territory.

"Before you make any assumptions on that, let me explain a couple of things. Just because you are female in your attitudes and through processes doesn't automatically make you female."

"Huh?"

"Being a woman is more than how you think, which is something I have to explain to my clients. All it really means is you would have an easier time transitioning that some other people I talk to."

"Then why give me the test if it can't tell me I'm supposed to be a girl?"

"Do you think you're a girl?"

"I don't know, that's the problem," I began to cry. Everything was supposed to be answered here. He was supposed to tell me I was a girl and then everything would be fine.

"Would you like living as a girl?"

I opened my mouth to make another sudden response, and then stopped and really thought about it. "How would that be different from what I'm doing now?"

"I don't think I've ever had a client ask me that question, and it's a very mature question to ask. Usually, they have some idea of what they're missing out on, or that they think they're missing out on, that drives them to this."

"Well, I guess I couldn't do the pageant without presenting as a girl."

"I thought you were doing that just for your friend?"

I blushed, "I might be enjoying myself while preparing for it."

"Being a woman, especially a transgender woman, can be hard. It's not some sort of magic solution to all your problems."

"Isn't your job..."

"My job is to help those that literally can't live without transitioning. Is that you, do you think?"

I shook my head at him and grinned

"Then, leave it for now. Do the pageant. See where you are after and we'll pick up there."

I thanked him, and we scheduled to meet again in August.

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I flatly refused to wear any shaper garments, so that required that we get dresses that fit my shape, not some imaginary shape that they wanted me to conform to. I eschewed even the bra and inserts, although I would be wearing camis or training bras with all my outfits.

I even had a reason I could give anyone who asked which had the added benefit of being true, Delayed Puberty.

For some reason, my body just had not started producing hormones of any sort...well no estrogen or testosterone at any rate. So, while I continued to grow at my slow rate, I wasn't developing.

My dress was very pretty. The neckline de-emphasized my broader-than-my-hips shoulders and the flounces at my hips over-emphasized them. It went to knee length. I had a pair of cute modest heels that I wore with it.

It was, I think, my favorite outfit that I got the opportunity to wear for the pageant. We had another, similar, dress for the final night, if I made it through the preliminaries, but I just didn't quite like it as much.

My song was perfect, if I do say so myself, and I made sure to alter it just a bit every time I performed it to keep it from getting stale.

In short, I was as ready as I would ever be, and in fact I was getting more excited as the day approached. I'd say that we were there before I knew it, but I'd be lying. I'd taken to marking a calendar after school let out. My studies suffered a little bit to begin with, but then I really pushed forward and got everything done before we had to leave for the venue.

I had three days of nothing to do and I almost killed Sarah with my nervous behavior. We ended up doing a lot of jogging, in our athletic outfits for the pageant of course, and I realized that running wasn't all that bad if you have someone to do it with.

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The morning of registration mom shook me awake. "Donna, honey, time to get up."

I started awake. I'd thought I would never fall asleep the night before, but here it was four in the morning and we were on our way. I was wearing a cute pair of girl's shorts over all of my foundation garments. My male anatomy was so small that I hardly had to do anything with it to hide it away.

There were no pinks in my outfit. I refused to be a 'typical girl' at all during the pageant. I would be judged on my own merits, and not on any sort of 'girl code' that someone came up with. Sure, I'd be girl me, but I'd still be me.

One thing had come from my last meeting with Dr. Funk: I felt confident in just being myself out there on stage. I'd scored like a girl, so I might as well go out there and see if everyone else agreed.

I never imagined that there would be this many young women who would be participating in the event. Having three days of preliminary events should have been a clue, especially with them running from eight am to seven pm.

We found our places in line, which was separated by last name, and got signed in. There were some really pretty girls here, and I began to get really nervous. Could I really do this? Could I compete without artifice on a level playing ground with these...goddesses?

With the signing process completed I stood off to the side waiting for Sarah to get done. A couple of girls came up to me.

"Hi, I'm Tara, and this is Tasha, we saw you looking a little lost. Since you're about our age..."

I looked over at the two girls. They looked to be thirteen or so. I smiled nicely at them and said, "I'm sixteen."

"What...but..."

"I have a condition called delayed puberty."

"That sucks. You're really brave to participate. I thought it was cool that they let people my age try, but some of the girls in my class are already...well developed. Like Ashley over there."

I looked at the girl she was referencing. Yes, she had a lot to be proud of.

"Well, I'm here to represent myself in the best way I possibly can." I said with a little grin.

"Like I said, brave." Tasha just nodded in agreement.

"Thanks," I said again, a couple of tears coming to my eyes, "that means a lot to me."

We chatted for a few moments before Sarah came over and I introduced everyone.

"She's your friend? You're even braver than I thought."

I just laughed and Sarah looked confused. We all explained it over the top of each other and devolved into giggles when Sarah looked even more confused. I gestured for Tara to speak and we got through it this time and she understood. We went out to Mama and she drove us to the hotel.

We met back up at the venue at noon for the welcome address and the introduction to the judges. The welcome address was a little long winded, in my opinion, but then they got to the panel of judges. At the time I remembered those names as if they were the most important people in the world. They did hold my future in their hands, or so I thought. How much five days can change your outlook on such things.

There was a dinner that night only notable for how unnoteworthy it really was. No one noticed I was a boy. We just all talked and gossiped and I felt comfortable as a part of the group.