Crossroads

Crossroads

by Jamie Lee

Crossroads: The point at which two or more travel ways converge; a point at which a life altering decision must be made; two or more given parameters used to resolve a problem recently discovered.

I’m at a Crossroads. I must make a decision that may change the rest of my life, and who I become. My name isn’t important to my story but my age, 14, is. It’s important because certain physical changes that should have started, haven’t. It's why I'm at a Crossroads.

I've tried to keep something from my parents for the past three years. But discoveries are made which force me to make a decision about my life.

I’m a freshman in high school, a straight B student but I could be a straight A student if it wasn’t for the tests we have to take; I know the material but just can’t take tests.

I thought about sports, but at almost 100 pounds, wet, with rocks in my pockets, football was out. I thought about baseball or tennis, but couldn't hit the ball even with my eyes open. Wrestling? Nope, not enough muscle mass. Track or cross-country? I can run, just not fast enough. And at 5’6”, volleyball and basketball were out. So, I just became a student.

I never developed any real friendships because I wasn't a popular student. Oh I’d help someone having problems in some of my classes, and built a reputation as the guy to go to in the freshman class if you had an academic problem, but that’s all I became. Which, in a way, allowed me the freedom I needed at times.

I needed to be friend free because at times, I didn’t need someone coming around the house to see me. I needed that time, when mom and dad were gone for a few hours, to do what I’ve been doing for the past three years. I needed the freedom of being friend free so I could dress and become Joni.

I don’t remember why I started wearing girls' clothing, whether it was curiosity or a dare or something I had to do. But the first time I put on a pair of panties, I was in heaven. When I saved more of my allowance, I bought more panties and a bra. I also read several articles on wearing panties to discover why the panties didn’t fit me right. Once I started tucking, the panties fit me like a glove.

As time passed, and my allowance increased, and I saved more and more, I purchased other lingerie, dresses, skirts and coordinating blouses, and makeup that complimented my skin tone; I had read several articles that helped me a great deal in my makeup choices.

The main problem I had was when I could become Joni. I could only become Joni when my parents would be gone for several hours and I knew when they’d return. At first, with just the panties and bra, it didn’t take but a few minutes to put them on. But when other pieces of clothing were added, it took longer to get dressed. And time increased even more when I started adding makeup.

My girls’ clothing continued to slowly accumulate over the years. I even added three different styles of sleepwear to my collection, though I could only wear them and not sleep in them. Then yesterday, mom told me she and dad were going to see her mother, my grandmother, while I was on Christmas break. Because I had so much homework to do over Christmas break, we decided I’d stay home and get it done for the
Monday after New Years, when I returned to school. If I had gone along, we knew I’d get nothing done because my cousins would want me to hang out with them. While I’d miss seeing grandma, I’d have three whole days to be dressed as Joni. And… and I’d finally get to sleep in my girls’ sleepwear.

By now, you may be questioning parents who left their child at home while they were gone for hours or days. The answer is simple, I earned their trust. I never got into trouble or caused any trouble; I never wanted to cause my parents any trouble. You might think I was a poster child for purity, but I wasn’t. I made bad, ignorant, decisions that got me reprimanded. But nothing that involved the police or school officials. I guess every kid makes bad decisions because of ignorance.

I was up bright and early Monday morning, January 1st, to see my parents off to grandma’s. I knew our routine when traveling to see grandma. We’d hold off eating breakfast for an hour until we reached a small town with a restaurant that makes the best waffles, pancakes, and French toast. After breakfast, it was another three hours before we reached grandma’s house.

So, I had my breakfast and waited until eight o’clock before I got busy getting myself dressed; I was anxious to try a hair style I read about in a magazine article.

I took my time, I wanted to get everything just right. After my shower, I toweled off my hair then wrapped it in a smaller towel. While the towel did its job, I did my makeup. I laid everything out, then going by all the articles I read, I applied my makeup in order.

Once my makeup was done, and set, I retrieved the magazine with the article of the hair style I wanted to try and followed the steps shown. When I was finished, I compared my work with the final picture in the magazine. While my efforts weren't perfect, they were as close as it was going to get without more practice.

I left the bathroom just wearing one of the robes I purchased, returning to my bedroom where I got into one hiding place and removed the lingerie, dress and shoes I wanted to wear during the day.

Slowly, I stepped into the panties, tucking before pulling them up to just below my waist. Then came my bra and the breast inserts; I didn't want to glue any artificial breast forms on my chest in case something happened to the solvent (several stories I read had that exact problem happen to the main character).

I debated about wearing a slip, but lost the debate as I let the slip drop over my head. I soon discovered it would have been easier had I put on my thigh high stocking before my slip. Oh, well, live and learn. Next came the sundress, which proved a bit of a challenge to zip up the back. I ended up taking it off and looping a piece of string through the zipper tongue then pulling the string straight up after putting the dress back on.

I got into another hiding place and took out clip-on earrings, a bracelet, a necklace, and a watch. I stepped into my kitten heels, closed my bedroom door, and marveled at the teenage girl staring back at me from the full length mirror mounted to the back of my bedroom door. She was really cute, lacking any semblance of my boy self. As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I realized no one would recognize me if I left the house, the change was that profound.

I had to consciously pull myself away from the mirror, before grabbing my backpack and heading downstairs to the living room and starting on my homework. I had lunch about noon, studied more, then around a quarter to four, went back to my bedroom to change into one of my dressier dresses for the evening. I even redid my makeup for a more evening out look; I had to follow one of the articles in the same magazine where I got my hair style. Once redressed, I went back downstairs and fixed myself some supper before going back to my studies.

About nine in the evening, I started having trouble keeping my eyes open, and decided to stop fighting sleep and get ready for bed. It may have seemed early to go to bed, but I had to allow for the time it would take to undress, put my clothes away, get out the sleepwear I was going to wear, and remove my makeup. Plus, my eyes were tired after a day of nothing but homework. I thought I'd have trouble getting to sleep, being excited about tomorrow. But I must have dropped right out once my head hit the pillow.

As I was about to learn, Tuesday wasn't going to be anything like Monday. It would be a day of discoveries.

It felt strange waking up Tuesday morning, I felt extremely rested and relaxed. I followed the same routine as yesterday, after taking off the cami and tap pants I'd slept in. I showered, then did my hair and makeup a bit differently, dressed in a similar order as yesterday, except putting on my pantyhose before dropping a different slip over my head; I didn't slide off my bed this time. Once my dress, shoes, and jewelry were on, I headed downstairs for breakfast. I had learned how much lipstick comes off and transfers to a drinking glass, so I made sure to wash that glass until I couldn't imagine any lipstick was on the rim of the glass. After refreshing my lipstick, I settled on the couch to try and finish a book I was reading for a book report I had to do for my English class.

I'd been reading my book since about a quarter till nine this morning. I glanced at the clock and saw it was now eleven fifteen. I set my book down and did a big stretch, not hearing the garage door as it opened.

I had just picked up my book to continue reading when I heard the door from the kitchen to the garage open, and my mother saying something to my dad. I froze! I couldn't move! My parents were home! They weren't supposed to be home until Thursday!

The kitchen and living room were an open floor plan, no walls separated the two rooms. If you stood at the front door, or at the garage door in the kitchen, you could see straight through both spaces.

My brain finally started working again, and as I dropped my book onto the floor, I bolted off the couch and headed for the stairs. I got maybe three steps when I heard, “John? JOHN! STOP!” It was my mom.

“John, sweetheart, turn around and face me,” mom ordered me, as I stood there shaking, just like I'd been outside in below zero weather. No… that's not right. I was shaking so bad I could hardly stand up. This shaking was worse! I was shaking so bad as I turned to face my mother that the charms on my charm bracelet were hitting each other and creating a rattling sound.

After completely turning around so I was facing my mom, I heard her say, “Oh sweetheart,” in a loving voice, before I felt her arms around me and being pulled into her. “Oh, John, sweetheart, you're not in trouble, you're NOT in trouble.”

My arms went around mom’s waist and I began to cry on her shoulder. I did sort of hear my dad say,” What's with all the shouting and cr…,” but he never finished what he was going to say. After a few moments, and my crying turning into silent tears, my dad said, “Oh, my! John?” I nodded my head and soon felt my dad's arms around me. He too told me I wasn't in trouble but he and mom wanted to talk with me.

I nodded again before mom pushed me back, gently lifted my chin, and told me, “You should go and fix your face. Your mascara has run down your cheeks.” I nodded again before being let go and heading upstairs to the bathroom. I was no longer shaking on the outside, but was still shaking on the inside.

Thirty minutes later, after redoing my makeup, and feeling apprehensive, I went back downstairs, finding my parents sitting on the couch. They had stopped talking when I reached the bottom of the stairs, and mom patted the vacant space between her and dad. I was scared!!

Slowly, with trepidation, I walked over to the couch, smoothed the back of my dress before sitting down between my parents, crossing my legs after doing so. I was looking down at my hands lying in my lap, but caught mom and dad looking at each other out of the corner of my eyes. What did their looks mean? I was scared!!

"Yo… yo… you weren't supposed to be home until Thursday,” I barely whispered.

With love in her voice, mom said, “Mom's sister got sick, she had to go help take care of her. So, dad and I came home early.”

I felt mom's right arm go around my shoulders, then felt dad's left arm do the same. Even as scared as I was, their arms felt reassuring. Another hand joined my hands, as mom put a tissue in my hands. “You may want to catch those tears about to fall out of your eyes or you'll have to redo your makeup,” mom told me with a smile in her voice. I did as she suggested, gently blotting each eye.

“John… wait!,” my dad exclaimed. “I can't call you John when you're dressed this way. What name do you use when dressed like this?,” my dad asked, his voice holding no recriminations. I was scared!!

I was silent for a few moments, feeling my heart racing as I sat there between my parents. They didn't rush me, they waited. Then, just above a whisper I said, “I'm Joni, when dressed like this.” Again, out of the corner of my eyes, I caught mom and dad looking at each other, each raising one eyebrow. What did that mean, I wondered? I'm still scared!

“Sweetheart,” mom began, “why didn't you tell us about your dressing? We would have helped in any way possible.” I used my tissue again, before letting silence prevail for a time.

“I… I… was scared,” I said, barely above a whisper, finally defeating the silence in the room. “I read articles where boys caught dressed by their parents, or their dad, were beaten so badly they ended up in the hospital, or dead. Other stories told of the boy being beat up while his mother threw his clothes into a bag and he was kicked out of the house. Fortunately for him, other relatives took him in and let him live with them. After reading those stories, I was scared of what you two would do to me if I told you.”

I felt a hand under my chin and my head was turned towards my dad before he said in an angry voice, “Joni Mechelle Miller, don't you EVER doubt for one minute the love your mother and I have for you! We love you very much and would have helped you in any way we could if you'd told us when you first started dressing!!” I couldn't help myself, and threw my arms around my dad's neck and cried. I held onto him as he held me tight, he was crying too.

So much for the tissue I was still holding.

We held each other for what seemed like an hour, but it was only for a few moments. When we let go of each other, I giggled and I said, “I got your shirt wet and rubbed makeup on it.” I used the tissue I was holding to try and remove the makeup, but with little success.

Dad smiled at me, tear tracks lining his face, and told me,”Don’t worry about that. It will wash out.” Mom handed dad a tissue, then had me look at her and used another tissue to wipe off the dark tear tracks running down my cheeks.

“I must look a mess,” I said as mom gently wiped my cheeks.

She smiled at me as she kept wiping and told me, “It’s not that bad. We’ll have to get you some waterproof mascara.”

When mom said that, or maybe because of what dad said, I was no longer scared. I felt loved. I felt… abundantly loved.

Then it hit me, and I pulled away from mom’s ministrations to look at dad. “Joni Mechelle Miller?,” I questioned dad, adding a questioning look to my face.

Mom put her hands on my shoulders from behind me, leaned near my ear and said in a soft voice, “That was going to be your name had you been born a girl. Interesting that you should name yourself Joni, don’t you think?” Mom kissed my cheek before getting off the couch and going into the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with water for the three of us. And the questions resumed.

We were quiet for several minutes before mom asked, “When did you start dressing in girls’ clothing?”

My answer came quicker this time as I replied with, “It’s been three years now. I started with just wearing panties at home. Then, when I saved enough of my allowance, I bought a bra. I bought more panties and bras until my allowance increased. Then, as before, when I saved up enough, I bought my first dress. A sundress. Over time I bought another sundress, two dressy dresses, hosiery of different styles, two garter belts, three sleep sets, shoes, and makeup that complimented my skin tone.” After all that, my mouth was dry and I drained the glass of water mom had given me.

This time, I actually saw my parents look at each other, each again raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you a bit embarrassed buying all that clothing?,” my dad asked.

I giggled before answering, “At first, but it got easier each time. I did get some looks as I paid, but also a lot of smiles. Once, when buying the first sundress, I confessed to the sales lady that it was for me. She'd asked if I was being punished or just wanted to know how it felt to wear a dress. I told her the second reason. She was really nice, and wrote down my measurements as she measured me. Then as I paid, she gave me the paper with my measurements on it and offered more advice. After that, I saw her for everything else I bought.” This time I got up from the couch to get more water; mom and dad still had water.

When I got to the refrigerator, I sat my glass down on the counter and then my head. I guess the stress had gotten to me because I started crying. It wasn’t long before I felt mom rubbing my back. Finally cried out, I took the tissue mom held over my shoulder, wiped my eyes, then said, “I’ll bet I look terrible right now.”

Still rubbing my back, mom told me, “Every girl has cried her eyes out at some point. And we can look a fright afterwards. Come on, let’s go redo your face, and I’ll let you use my waterproof mascara.” As we leaned into each other while leaving the kitchen, I saw dad wiping his eyes, and he mouthed, ‘it's okay’.

We went upstairs to the bathroom, where mom had me sit on the toilet seat and began cleaning makeup off my face. As she cleaned my face, then started reapplying my makeup, I ask her about dad's outburst. She was silent for a moment before sighing and telling me dad’s story. The gist of dad’s story was growing up without knowing about love until he met mom. No one ever said they loved him or showed anything he could consider loving. He wasn’t abused or anything like that, he just never felt loved by his parents. After mom’s story, she had to clean my face again and start reapplying my makeup, again. But she had to wait until we were both cried out.

Back downstairs, we sat on the couch again as we’d began, with me in the middle. I leaned into dad, wrapped my arms around him and told him, “I love you daddy.”

He laid his head on my shoulder, I could feel my shoulder getting wet, before he said, “I love you very much pumpkin. I will always love you.” A tissue appeared over my shoulder, which I was thankful for.

“At this rate,” mom began, “we’re going to run out of tissues.” Dad and I chuckled at mom’s quip.

It was dad who replied with, “But it’s worth it.”

When dad and I finally let go of each other, mom and I looked at each other and laughed. Some of our makeup had run and we both looked like we planned to audition as clowns for a circus. I started to stand up, but mom put her had on my arm and told me, “Later.”

More tissues were handed out before dad finally said, “Joni, mom and I have been worried about you. John hasn’t started puberty, or is going through puberty, as other boys. Your mom and I want you to get a complete physical, blood tests included.”

“And based on what we learned today,” mom added, “we want it done by Dr. Tills, my OBGyn.” She watched me after speaking, trying to gage my reaction, I guess. My reaction should have been obvious, because mom reached over and gently pushed my mouth closed.

When the shock lessened, I said, “B… bu… buutt… Dr. Tills is a woman doctor! She’ll see my… my… m…”

Mom reach over, turned my head to face her, then said,”...Your genitals. That’s right. Because we’re speaking with Joni right now, I think she’s the best to advise us right now.”

I turned my head back and started looking at my hands for several moments before sighing deeply, then, while looking at mom, said in a low voice, “In for a penny, in for a pound. Dr. Tills it is then.”

I got a funny feeling when she smiled then softly said, “And there’s something else we’d like you to do. I'd like you to do.” I gave her a ‘what now look’, and she continued with, “I’d like to take you to my hair salon to get your hair and nails done.” Mom reached over, again, and pushed my lower jaw up until my mouth was closed.

Mom had a pleading look on her face, as did dad when I looked at him. I rolled my eyes, shook my head, then said, turning to look at mom, “If my hair falls out, I’m blaming you.” Just then, I knew how an animal felt being squeezed by a Boa, as mom pulled my into a hug, thanking me for agreeing to it.

I jumped when I heard, “OKAY,” from dad. “We've made decisions, it's time to make a couple of calls. Why don't you,” and he pointed at me, “go upstairs and put Joni's face back together while mom and I each make a phone call.”

Thirty minutes later, with my face straightened, I went back downstairs. I walked back into the living room and heard in stereo, “You have an appointment…,” but didn't understand anything more my parents said. I held up my hand and said, “PLEASE! One at a time.” Yes, the three of us laughed. Turned out, I had a 2 p.m. hair appointment today and a 9 a.m. appointment with Dr. Tills tomorrow morning, January 3rd. The surprising part about my appointment with Dr. Tills? Dr. Tills wanted to see Joni.

“Well,” mom suddenly said,” let's get some lunch before your hair appointment.”

Conversation during lunch centered around me. Mom and dad asked probing questions about my feelings being Joni, had I considered being Joni at school, etc. Soon, too soon, it was time to leave for my hair appointment. And too soon, I started shaking again as mom and I walked into the garage. Mom pulled me into a hug and whispered, “No one will see anyone but Joni. Trust me, hmm?” ‘Hadn't I said that myself on Monday?’, I thought to myself. I soon nodded and got into mom's car. ‘Ho boy’, I thought. ‘I hope the ground opens up and swallows me’, the thought continued.

As we drove to the salon, mom told me about Doris, the owner of the salon. She and mom had been close friends since high school. Mom reassured me that Doris and the girls working at the salon wouldn't embarrass or humiliate me while I was there. She even said one of the girls started out like me and was now living as a girl. Mom even said Doris had other ‘girls’ come in for appointments.

Even though I was apprehensive, mom was right. After taking a deep breath, I followed mom into Doris’ Salon. I'll save you the two hours of hair and nail treatment I received, and just say that Doris and the three girls working there were as mom described. They reassured me it would be okay, that I was safe there, and I was brave giving Joni a try. I was also able to get a hair style I could wear to school as John.

Afterwards, mom took me shopping. And shop we did, for the next three hours. With a very confident me! It took us two trips to get our things into the house when we got home. Dad sat on the couch and received quite the fashion show from me.

I'm no longer scared, because mom and dad did their best to put me at ease the rest of the evening. I got ready for bed, following the same steps as last night. Dressed in a robe over my nightshirt and panties, I went downstairs and said good-night to mom and dad. Mom handed out the tissues. I don't remember falling asleep after getting into bed.

Mom woke me at 6 a.m.. I followed the same routine I did yesterday morning. This time, though, I waited to put on my lipstick until after breakfast. At 8:30 a.m. we made our way to the garage, dad was coming with us. It was dad who reassured me this time as I froze at the door to the garage. We did make it to Dr. Tills office without me melting down.

We didn't wait long after the paperwork was completed. The nurse called my name and mom and I followed her to an exam room. She instructed me to step behind the screen and completely undress, then put on the gown I'd find behind the screen. Now I was scared!

Dr. Tills came into the room just as I walked from behind the screen. She and mom hugged like old friends do. Then she looked at me, came over to me and took my shaking hands in hers. “Joni, you're safe at my office and in this room. I just want to help you find out what's going on inside of you. Okay?” Her words helped and I just nodded. My height and weight were taken, then she had me sit on the exam table and lower my gown.

Then came what I was dreading, as she had me lie down and put my feet in the stirrups. Mom held my hand as Dr. Tills examined my genitals with her gloved hands. With an, “Okay, all done,” I was allowed to lowe my legs. She then pulled the top of my gown further down, smeared a cold cream on my abdomen before running a wand over the area. After the area was wiped off I was allowed to sit up, pulling up my gown after sittingt up. Dr. Tills left and the nurse came in and took three vials of blood.

After getting dressed, we met Dr. Tills in her office, where we learned my testicles hadn't drop, as they should have by now. My weight was a bit low for my height, but I was small boned. We also learned the sonogram was inconclusive and I had an appointment for an MRI tomorrow at the hospital. Mom filled dad in as we drove home. I hope I can sleep tonight.

Surprisingly, I did sleep and slept well. Breakfast had to wait as per instructions. We arrived at the hospital, where they checked me in. Then, shortly, I was taken to Imaging, where I was given a gown and shown where to change. I won't bore you with the actual MRI, except to say I had to lay very still.

A week later we received a call to be at the hospital at 3 p.m. that day. Mom and dad believed it was serious or they wouldn't have made the appointment that quickly.

Mom, dad, and I were sitting on a park bench eating our favorite bowls of ice cream. I finished first and got up to throw my bowl in the trash. I looked out over the park as I stood by the trash can.

My testicles were absent. Testosterone levels were extremely low, with estrogen levels higher but not high enough for a girl my age. I had a real penis and female internal organs, with an incompletely formed vagina.

I'm at a Crossroads. With the information we were given, I have to decide if it will be John or Joni from now on. John or Joni? John or Joni? I watched a group of girls sitting on another bench not far from us, talking and laughing with each other.

I walked back to my parents. “Mom, dad. How does Joni enroll in high school?”