Looking at Peter as he went down to the stream for water, my heart started thumping and I felt slightly sick. I knew that this would change things forever, but I wasn’t willing to live a lie any longer.

Love

by
Susan Brown

I needed to tell him, I had to.

Looking at Peter as he went down to the stream for water, my heart started thumping and I felt slightly sick. I knew that this would change things forever, but I wasn’t willing to live a lie any longer.

This camping trip was my time to tell him. I couldn’t wait any longer.

I had to know.

You see, I love him.

I met Peter for the first time when we were in play school. I was three, nearly four and so was Peter. We hit it off straight away and unlike many friendships, it stood the test of time. We were like two sides of a coin and had always been pretty inseparable. Wherever Peter was, Danny–that’s me–was never far away.

We went through school together, our grades were weirdly similar, not surprising as we did homework together, like everything else. We stayed at each other’s houses so often; we had sets of clothes in each house. Both sets of parents were friends and we regularly holidayed together.

I don’t know when my friendship for Peter turned to love. I think that it all sort of crept up on me: the realisation that this was something more than friendship, that is. He never showed any sign that he was anything more than my best friend and I so I had to hide my feelings and just ensure that I was always in ‘mate’ mode. Even at a young age, I realised that it was considered wrong for two apparent boys to have strong feelings for each other even though sex hadn’t reared its head at such a tender age. Boys played rough, liked to get dirty and girls were, in the main considered beyond the pale and not to be tolerated and despised by any right minded boy. The fact that this ‘boy’ who wanted nothing else but be close to, cuddle and love Peter would not be considered normal or right, or that’s how I saw it. Cuddling and love was a girl thing. If I did show signs of affection, that would mark me out as being strange to say the least and give the game away.

Things got worse as I grew older and thoughts of sex reared its ugly head. I tried to fight it, but it was so hard. Peter was handsome, growing tall and unlike me his voice broke at 14. Now we were both sixteen and my voice still hadn’t broken. I was only one of two boys at the school in our year that hadn’t had the change.

I kind of liked that because I didn’t want a deep voice, or lots of hair in the wrong places; it looked lovely on Peter but I just didn’t want it. This brings me to another stumbling block regarding my relationship with Peter. You see I am a girl and as far as I am concerned, I always have been, despite the physical differences in my body to a normal girl. I had the brain, attitude, desires and needs of a girl but the body of a boy. Peter didn’t know this. Apart from the fact that I loved him deeply, this was the only thing I hadn’t told him. I spent my life pretending to be a boy and not revealing my secret to anyone.

The sex thing didn’t rear its ugly head with me until I was about 14, late for some I know, but not unusual. It was funny; Peter and I talked about lots of things but never sex or girls. Weird maybe but that was how it was with us.

I never fancied girls. I looked at them a lot, but that was because I was more interested in what they were wearing or what style of hair they had or the lip and nail colours. I was jealous of even the plainest of girls. They could look and feel like a girl all the time and nothing was said. If I paraded about like a girl, questions would be asked.

I yearned to wear dresses, tops and skirts; to be one of the girls and do things that girls do. To show affection and be feminine was something that I could only dream about. All right some girls were the pits and dressed like nothing on earth. Just because you were a girl, that doesn’t mean that some of them needed as brain transplant; but at least they had a choice. I had none. I was trapped in the wrong body and it was like my brain was in a prison longing to break out and be the real me.

So I only wore the few girls’ things that I had managed to acquire in the security of my own room with the door bolted and the curtains drawn. My parents were strong in giving me my space and they never went into my room unasked, so I was able shut myself in and be Danni at night or earlier when my parents were out.

I didn’t have any makeup initially–I was too scared that I might leave signs on my face, so it was just clothes at first. I longed to wear lipstick and make my face and eyes look pretty, but it was too chancy. I had managed all those years not to be caught out and I wanted things to continue that way until I was ready to tell my parents–and Peter. In the end I did get some makeup as it helped make me feel more feminine, but my face was sometimes quite sore when I scrubbed it after each session of wearing some. I couldn’t take the chance of anyone seeing anything on my face that shouldn’t be there.

I looked again at Peter.

As I watched his back as he bent down and filled the saucepan with water, I sighed; this wasn’t going to be easy. Even at sixteen he was strong, athletic and had good definition. I was small slim and had very few muscles or so it seemed. Luckily our school had a no tolerance for bullies but I knew that Peter would always stick up for me; he was lovely like that.

I sighed.

Maybe I should forget about it, move on and not tell him how I felt about him and who I really was. Would he be shocked? Would he reject me or laugh at me or even hit me?

I lay down on my back on the soft grass and looked up at the sky, with the fluffy white clouds scudding gently across the blue expanse. It was a lovely summer’s day with no hint of a change for at least a few days to come. Perhaps today, the only storms would be at ground level.

I shook my head and tried to clear those negative thoughts and then I smiled as the slight breeze moved my longish, ponytailed fair hair. Lifting my head, I could see Peter still by the river, sitting on a convenient log and watching the river as it flowed downstream to the sea just five miles away.

I remembered that morning waking up in the tent to the dawn chorus of various birds, all trying to out-sing each other. Peter was still asleep; that boy could sleep through anything, but not me, I had too much on my mind.

I sat up in bed and just looked at him as his chest slowly rose and fell. It had been a warm night and he was wearing just a thin t shirt and shorts. I would have liked to have been wearing a short nightie — it was kind of warm, but I think that he may have said something about that!

He had flung back the top of his sleeping bag as he had slept and my eyes went wide as I could see that he had a morning woody. My, he was a big boy! I never had that problem; yes I did go a bit hard– well, less soft sometimes would be more accurate; but my little chap never seemed to be that interested, to be honest and as I would rather not have him, it didn’t bother me that much. It was nothing personal; it was just that I thought that my male equipment was surplus to requirements.

Looking at his thing I had an almost overpowering urge to touch it, stroke it, do something with it– then I just got up, went outside and walked down to the river’s edge– trying to stop my heart beating away furiously and get some control over my feelings.

All that was this morning; ever since, I had been trying to pluck up the courage to tell him, but I hadn’t. It was now late afternoon. We would be going home first thing in the morning and I just had to tell him. I was like the kettle on the camping stove, building up pressure before boiling up and letting the steam pour out the spout.

I sat up and then stood, brushing the grass off my shorts. Peter was still down by the stream, he hadn’t moved. He got like that sometimes. He’s a deep thinker, he could think for England if that had been a recognised sport. I wondered what he was thinking about, maybe school, we were due back the following week. He was quite bright academically, we both were. Doing homework together was almost a pleasure–almost, but I would have been happier having a kiss and cuddle with him.

He might be thinking about the start of the next football season. He was a midfield player and very good. I loved to watch him from the touch line and cheer him on. I on the other hand had two left feet and I will gloss over the one time I ever played...

Shaking my head, I tried to stop procranstinating, it was getting me nowhere. I had to be brave enough to go and talk to him, even if it meant that he rejected me.

I took a deep shuddering breath.

Hesitantly I walked towards the river. I felt physically sick and almost faint but I kept my eyes on the back of Peter as I drew ever nearer.

I stopped thinking about what ifs, whys and wherefores. I owed it to myself and Peter to let him know how I felt about him and why I had to tell him my biggest secrets.

It was as if time had stood still. I could hear no birds singing or the rush of the water as I approached him. He never looked my way. He was in a world of his own, a world that I was about to shatter.

He looked up at me as I sat by the side of him on the gnarled trunk. He smiled, but it was a kind of sad smile. Had I done something that upset him?

‘What’s up Peter?’ I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

‘Nothing...I mean...oh nothing.’

He looked at the river again.

‘Peter.’

‘Yea?’

‘I...I need t...to tell you something.’

He looked at me.

‘What’s up Danny; you’re crying, are you sick?’

I wiped a tear away. I hadn’t realised that I was crying.

‘Look Peter, I have to tell you something.’

He turned towards me and touched my shoulder. I felt an electric shock. I knew that it meant nothing to him but to me, any physical contact was something I cherished.

‘Peter...’

‘No, let me speak first Danny. I know why you’re upset. I thought that I could hide it but it’s been so hard.’

‘What?’

I could see that tears were in his eyes too. ‘He’s guessed,’ I thought. ‘He knows what I am and how I feel about him.’

‘Danny, you are going to hate me, but it’s been eating me up inside. I have to tell you...’

‘I don’t hate you Peter, I...I..l...love you and I’m a girl not a boy!’

I had said it, just blurted it out. It wasn’t meant to be like that. I was going to work up to it...

I felt a cold chill down my spine even though the day was still hot.

‘It’s just that...did you just say that you love me?’

He looked dumbstruck.

I just nodded and waited for the axe to fall.

‘You love me and...and...you’re a girl?’

I nodded again. I had lost the power or the will to speak.

He looked away for a moment. Perhaps he was sick at the sight of me. I just wanted to hug and kiss him but I knew that I had shocked him to the core and I had lost my best friend. Why hadn’t I just kept my big mouth shut and accepted that Peter would only ever be a friend and not someone who could love me.

I stood up and started to walk away. I would pack up and go. I couldn’t stand this. My eyes streamed with tears and my heart was just broken.

I had gone half way to the tent, my mind in a turmoil, when I heard running from behind. I turned, flinched and then went down on my knees.

I put my arms up to defend myself but closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see the fury on his face.

‘Don’t hurt me Peter, please!’

Instead of feeling blows rain down on me, I was gently helped up by my arm so that I stood before him. I still didn’t open my eyes, but the tears were forcing themselves past my eyelids. I was sobbing uncontrollably.

‘Danny–Danny, look at me.’

I opened my eyes, blinking in the glare of the sun. Looking at Peter through tearful eyes, I could see that he had been crying too. I couldn’t understand it.

‘Danny, are you sure that you love me? I’m a boy.’

I took a deep breath and just let it all out. It was like a relief of pressure, once started I couldn’t stop myself.

‘I’ve loved you for ages. I don’t know when I started loving you; I suppose that it just creeped up on me.’

‘What about this girl thing?’

‘I’ve always been a girl inside. Oh I have the male equipment, but it’s never felt part of me. I only ever want to be a girl. I hate having boy bits. I just want to be a girl and dress like one.’

He was just looking at me. His face was a bit red from crying. I hadn’t seen him cry since he was 14, when he fell over and broke his arm. I wanted to cuddle him then...

‘Do you have a girl name?’ he asked; his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Danni with an i.’

He stood closer to me and I flinched, looking down. I couldn’t look him in the eye.

I felt his finger go under my chin and then lift my head up. He was smiling.

‘Do you hate me?’ I asked.

‘No.’

He leaned forward and then to my surprise he kissed me full on the mouth!

After what seemed an hour, when my head was in the clouds and all the birds were singing again, he stepped away from me, his lips red from our kiss.

‘Danni, I have to tell you something. I’ve loved you for so long. I didn’t want to spoil things. If I had told you, then you might have rejected me. And this girl thing. I have thought that you were a girl almost as long as I have known you, so it’s no big surprise to me when you tell me that you are a girl. You never acted like a boy and you have always been gentle and kind. Even my mum and dad think that you have girly sort of ways. What boy ever likes to spend time in the kitchen with their best friends mum and offer to wash up and help with the baking!’

I laughed at that as he held both my hands and then continued.

‘I was going to tell you today and I was sitting by the river to pluck up the courage to tell you.’

‘So you don’t mind me being a girl then?’

‘Well I wouldn’t want to go out with a boy, now would I!’

‘So we’ve both felt the same way about each other for years and not had the courage to speak out?’

He just nodded, grinning.

We both laughed at that and we soon embraced again. I loved his smell, all manly, he had even used aftershave that morning. Our lips opened and our tongues entwined and for a moment we felt as one. It was lovely, wonderful, beautiful and I never wanted it to end. I had told Peter my secrets and he told me his and everything was all right!

After a long time, we came up for air.

‘Wait here for a moment.’ I said rather breathlessly and then left the poor lamb looking puzzled, bewildered and bemused. Whether it was because of our tonsil tickling or what I just said, I hadn’t a clue. I then went over to the tent; I had an idea.

Going inside, I zipped the tent up behind me. At the bottom of my rucksack was a Iemon coloured sun dress. I didn’t know whether I should bring it but I did in the hope that he would see me as I really am and not throw a wobbly.

I stripped down put on some panties and then the sun dress. Luckily, it was one of those dresses that don’t seem to get creased when shoved into the bottom of a bag. I hadn’t got any breasts yet–well I had, but not girl type ones– but I hoped to rectify that sooner rather than later and we’re not talking about falsies here.

I slipped on my sandals; they were white and strappy and hadn’t taken up much room in my bag. Then with a small mirror I put on a minimal amount of foundation to cover my freckles, pink eye shadow and then some strawberry lippy. I didn’t bother with mascara as I hadn’t got the hang of it and anyway, have you ever tried putting on mascara in a little tent?

I took the rubber band off my ponytail, shook my head and then brushed my shoulder length hair. I had had a lot of grief from school over my hair. The powers that be all thought that I should get it cut but I had resisted as the “force was with me”. My parents were cool about it so why should the school be so fussy?

I was finished. I looked in the mirror, took a smidgen of lippy off where it looked slightly wonky and then I was ready. I smiled at my reflection and then, taking a deep breath, I climbed over the sleeping bags and other stuff and got out of the tent.

I blinked in the strong sunlight and there he was, staring at me. I could see that his gob was well and truly smacked. His mouth was open and his eyes wide.

‘Bloody hell, Danni!’

‘You like?’ I asked giving him a none to convincing curtsy and then a quick twirl.

‘I thought that you were lovely before, but like that you are...beautiful.’

‘You are saying all the right things,’ I said as my stomach went sort of squidgy.

In moments, I was back in his arms and I knew that I would have to make some emergency makeup repairs later.

That evening we sat around the camp fire– well it was the portable stove, but camp fire sounds much more romantic.

My head was on his shoulder and he had his arm around me. We were quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just a contented one–we were just happy to be together. Looking up at the twinkling stars and oversized moon, I thought that at last I could be my true self. It had taken a long sixteen years to become who I now was and I intended to carry on as I started. I would tell my parents and hope that they would support me. I hoped that the school would too. If not I would change schools. I knew that I would have to go through hoops to get where I wanted to go and didn’t look forward to the inevitable problems my coming out would raise. I also didn’t fancy the idea of counsellors and psychiatrists taking the lid off my mind and stirring things up. Eventually, I would have the necessary medication and then the operation to remove my worthless bits. I didn’t like the sight of my own blood or the pain involved in all this, but I would have to be a grown up girl and take my medicine.

Anyway, at least I had my Peter to love and support me and that meant a huge deal to me.

I sighed.

‘Are you okay Danni?’

I looked at Peter, gave him a peck on the cheek, cuddled up closer, considered for a moment and then said into his chest, ‘I’m just fine.’

Please leave comments and do the kudo-thingie...thanks! ~Sue