I was invited to a Valentine’s Day party by one of the girls in the neighborhood. The invitation had arrived in the mail while I was in school and my mother had opened it. I’m sure she smiled when she saw that each invitee was to wear a pink party dress and have their hair done and nails done. My Mom had a go0d sense of humor.

With a name that could be a girl’s, I was often mistaken for a girl. Leslie Rene Culbertson was my full name and at age fifteen I was very small for a boy. I was barely five feet two inches tall and if I weighed one hundred pounds I would had to be soaking wet. I was involved in the local community theater and had played the part of a girl several times. I was no stranger to being in a dress. it was when I was dressed as a girl I felt most comfortable. I couldn’t tell my mom or dad though.

Dad was a macho man he believed every male should be rough and tough. By the time I was six he had given up on me. He would refer to me as his sissy child. I had heard it enough that I began to think about just wearing girls clothes to rile him up. I was becoming what my dad disliked. My thought was a way to annoy him for calling me a sissy child, but slowly, I began to understand how nice it was to be a girl. I decided to self medicate.

My mom had been taking hormone pills, which she stored in the bathroom medicine cabinet I liked to read and when I was on the computer, I discovered that two of her pills could keep me from going through puberty as a boy. Since age ten, I had been sneaking pills from her supply. Mom kept refilling her prescriptions as she would take one or two pills every other week and I would take them on an every other day period. I don’t know if she noticed her meds were going quickly but she never said anything to me.

Now at fifteen I had the soft melodic voice I grew up with, an no facial hair or chest hair. My breasts were just starting to become noticeable.

“You’ve got an invitation to Rebecca Stones Valentine’s party. I don’t know if you want to go or not.
There is a dress code, and it’s a girls only party.” Mom explained to me while handing me the invitation.

“Great! Mrs. Stone thinks I’m a girl.” I did my best to not show my excitement to wear a dress and be seen in public.

“You certainly look and sound like one.” Mom retorted.

“Please don’t make fun of me.” I said, sounding as though I had been hurt. I couldn’t tell if she was serious,or if she was mocking me.

“I’m not making fun of you I’m stating a fact. From the looks of things I’m sure by now the hormones you have been taking have worked very well,” she said with a knowing smile.

I stood there with my mouth wide open, and I couldn’t move.

“I realized you were sneaking them. It didn’t take long to figure out what you were up to. I take a pill every other week and so they should have lasted a lot longer than they were. I didn’t want to discourage you, so when you last saw Doctor Phelps, he did a liver test on you. He continued my prescription so you could help yourself.”

I shook my head , trying to comprehend that she’d known all along, and actually helped me.

“Your dad doesn’t know about the hormones. He will not be returning from his trip. I’ve filed for divorce and separation. We were talking about it after your first performance as a girl in the community theater.

I didn’t know what to say. I began to sniffle, mom noticed and came to me and hugged me assuring me it would be okay.

I think we need to go shopping it’s time for my daughter Leslie to make her appearance. We’ll get you a nice pink party dress, get your ears pierced, and get your hair permed. Since you will be starring as Laura Wingate in the Glass Menagerie we’ll let you start being a girl so it will be more realistic on stage.”

I was stunned by how much Mom was supporting me. I had wanted to tell her that I didn’t like being a boy, and yet she knew all along.

“Can I get rid of my boy’s clothes?” I practically begged her I really don’t want to wear them anymore?”

“Why don’t we do better than that? We can get you an entire new wardrobe, redo your bedroom and get furniture for a girl?

“Where is the money coming from? I don’t think dad would want to spend money for me to be a girl.”

“Your dad isn’t going to know, I’m using money that I inherited from my aunt Lucille. Her one wish was that I had a daughter to spoil, and you, my girl, are now that young daughter.”

It seemed like it took forever for Saturday to come, but finally, off mom and I went to Prostonof’s women’s store. It was a very good store, which included a spa, hair salon, and everything a woman might need. A woman escorted me to a changing room so I could be given the spa treatment. Waxing wasn’t bad as I feared, since had no real hair to rip off. I was measured from head to toe, for my bust, waist and hips. I then wrapped myself in a silk robe and was taken to the salon to get my nails and hair done. My ears were pierced, and my eye brows were waxed, arched, and shaped. I had highlights put in my hair and then it was coifed in a style so that no one could mistake me for a boy.

Being fitted for a bra was something I didn’t know women did. I was soon wearing a perfectly fitted bra, and it felt wonderful cradling my budding breasts.
I was taken to a clean, almost sterile room that reminded me of an operating room. The woman there did some things to me that, when finished gave me the look of a vagina.

“You can be naked in front of a thousand girls and they wouldn’t know you were a boy,” She reassured me with a warm smile. She was very proud of her work, and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with my genitalia now reconfigured.

I was measured for panties, shoes, dresses and skirts. When we left the department store, it was as mother and daughter. I was wearing a mid-calf faux leather coat under it was a pink jumper with a pink blouse. I could barely contain my delight at my transformation.

We headed to the community theater so I could meet the rest of the cast of the upcoming play a boy from my school, Peter Dorn, had the part of Jim O’Conner. I really liked him, and he, in, turn seemed impressed by me. To him I was a girl and he was reacting like a boy in heat. He asked to talk to me quietly.

He knew that Leslie Culbertson was a boy. So I figured he was going to tell me that he was uncomfortable with me being a boy, and that we couldn’t ever have any romance.

“I would have never thought you could be so beautiful,” he said, sounding like he was a bit love struck. “I expected you to look like a boy in a dress. Can I ask you out to see a movie tonight?” He seemed a bit embarrassed at asking me for a date.

“You mean you like me as I am?”

He vigorously nodded his head yes.

“You do know that under all of the feminine attire is a boy. I’d love to go to the movies with you, if you still want to go knowing that. So is this a date or just two people going to a Movie together?”

“To be honest,” he confessed sheepishly. “I wasn’t happy with a boy being chosen to play Laura, but you’re too pretty for me to even think of you as a boy.”

“I can be very much a girl, if that’s what you want.”

“Okay I’ll be by at six to pick you up for the movie. ”He sounded like he had just hit the lottery.”

“My mom can drive us if you’d like?”

“That would be great. I’ll See you at six.”

I walked back to my mom, practically beaming. “I have a movie date with Peter tonight. Can you drive us to the theater?”

“A boy asked you out? She sounded suddenly very concerned. “We need to have a talk when we get home, but yes, I’ll take the two of you to a theater.”

Once we got home, Mom and I sat in the living room. We discussed the birds and bees from the girl’s perspective. I hadn’t even thought about kissing, let alone cuddling or going further. She reminded me that my breasts were real, and most likely, sensitive to touch. The part she was concerned with was the rampaging hormones of a teenage girl with a teen age boy.

I was only expecting a movie, but according to Mom some boys use that as an excuse to make out, fondle a girl’s breasts and sometimes, explore and even further.
Peter arrived at six I was still wearing the same outfit that I had been wearing earlier. Mom drove us to see “Titanic” Once we were seated I began to experience what other girls did when Peters arm went around my neck and his hand straight to my breast.

If I said it bothered me I would be lying. It felt nice and I notice my nipples were erect. I was getting tingly from just his touch on one of my breasts. When his had touched my other breast, I felt like I was beginning to lose control. I turned my head and to my surprise and delight, he kissed me. IT wasn’t just a peck, but a long, warm, passionate French kiss.

I did my best to watch the movie but making out with Peter was far more interesting. I never let him put his hand under my dress, but his hands on my inner thigh drove me wild. I wanted more than a kiss. It was then I asked him to stop.

“If we continue this we are going to go someplace I don’t think either of us wants to go.

Peter let up and tried to apologize. I let him know I was just as guilty and pleased. We just held hands until the movie ended.

“My mom is going to be out tomorrow. Why don’t you come over and we can rehearse?”

“Sounds good to me; I really enjoyed tonight.” He answered with a hint of anticipation in his voice.

“To be honest so did I.” I said as I felt my checks redden as I blushed.

“Do you want to go to the school dance next week?” His voiced sounded hesitant, as if he were afraid I might reject him.

“I think I do, but your hands have to behave themselves.”

Mom picked us up and we didn’t Say much more. We dropped Peter off at his house and then headed home.

“Did you behave yourself?” Mom asked as she drove away from Peters.

“Now I really know I don’t ever want to be a boy again. Oh, Mom he’s so dreamy,” I purred.

“We’ll talk at home, and I do mean talk.” She sounded as though there were concerns.

Once we were in the house I told mom everything. I told her that I really felt like a real girl and how I felt when his hands touching me.. I wanted to have a boyfriend. If Peter would ask, I’d say yes to be his girlfriend in a heartbeat.

Morning came, and Mom left for her Sunday get together with other cancer survivors.. Peter arrived about an hour later. Needless to say, our plans of rehearsal were delayed as we made out on the couch. The make out session got a little heavier and clothes came off.

Whatever was happening felt very natural, even when I got on my knees and performed oral sex on him. I felt a compelling need to please him. I gave my body to him and he made me feel wonderful.

The rest of the day could have gone on the same way except that Mom returned as her get together had been cancelled. Peter and I were caught on the couch naked, and making out.

The language my mom used startled both of us. We were told to get dressed and then sit on the couch. Mom called Peter’s Mom and she arrived about fifteen minutes later.

The conversation was awkward. We were sternly reminded that we were both boys. Somehow though, I wasn’t even thinking about that.

“I know we went too far, and both of us are to blame,” I said meekly. To be honest, I really loved what we were doing. I felt like I was a fully grown woman. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment at what I was admitting. “I care for Peter, and if he’s willing to make out with me, then it’s not two boys, but two people who care about each other. Until today I didn’t know what sex was, but I enjoyed it - especially as a girl.”

Peter nodded, obviously embarrassed, but feeling a need to defend our actions.“I agree with Leslie, we aren’t two boys. No boy looks like a girl as much as Leslie. I like her, and I want to date her. We aren’t gay. We’re just two people in love. She’s more girl than some girls I know. I don’t see her as a boy.”

Parents sometimes be cruel. Peters mom threatened to home school him and get him counseling for being gay. She told me I was just a sissy faggot that seduced her innocent boy.

I ran to my room crying.

“Mrs. Phelps.” I heard my Mom say as I had stopped crying. “You can think what you want and do what you think is necessary, but these two found peace and joy with each other. They didn’t see themselves as two boys, but as a boy and girl.” Mom stopped and took a deep breath “Your son is eighteen,” she stressed his age, “I could have him arrested for sex with a minor.”

“Y-you can’t do that, it was consensual sex and you know it.” Peter’s Mom stammered.

“My daughter can say she was coerced by your son. I’m not going to stop her from seeing your son.” Her voice suddenly sounded compassionate. “Sometimes we don’t get what we want in life. I don’t think your son is gay and my daughter isn’t a sissy faggot. The person who needs therapy is you not your son.”

After that Mrs. Phelps and Peter departed.

Monday in school, no one said anything about me being in the girl’s school uniform. I saw Peter and his mom in the principal’s office. It saddened me that his mother was so narrow-minded.

Peter had been pulled from the community theater. Which was another heartbreak for me. setback I was, after all, just a girl with urges that he met. I missed him very much.

I left school at noon on Valentine’s Day so I could get my hair done and be ready for the party. I was looking forward to an afternoon with girls who would understand how I felt about having to break up with Peter.

“Leslie its’ so nice to see you, aren’t you a living princess?” Missy spoke with her usual cattiness.

No one ever got a polite word from her. She was the Principals daughter.

The other girls knew I was a boy but said nothing when we sat down to eat we talked about boys and one of the girls asked me about Peter.

I told her that my mom had caught us having sex in the house, and that his mom was a real Bitch and showed her true colors. The girls were glad that I had a boyfriend that accepted of me. I began to cry, since he was being kept away from me.

Mindy’s Mom had made reservations for all of us to go out for a formal dinner, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go.

“Look at you, you’re one pretty woman all dressed up and with no one to show off to. Come to dinner with us. At least let others see that nice pink party dress that exposes your bosom. Maybe there will be another boy.”

I was reluctant to go, but since I had gotten all dolled up, I was persuaded to join them for dinner and show off my beauty and my developing bosoms.

It was Kerri’s kind words that I gave into. I did look at her funny when she mentioned my bosom.

We arrived at Chez Maurice and entered. We sat at our table waiting to order. The waiter looked like a hunk, but he wasn’t Peter. The meal was delicious and dessert was rich. The band was playing too. As we sat, guys came over and asked some of the girls to dance. I sat at the table like a wallflower, lamenting that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to dance with the guy I really liked.

I felt the tap on my shoulder and a voice deeply asking me if I wanted to dance. I shook my head no, but then before I knew it, Peter on his knees asking me for forgiveness and apologizing for his mother’s actions.

We danced and kissed and kept dancing.

“Where is you mom?” I asked, confused

“Dad had her committed to a behavioral health center. “ he explained simply.

“What happened?”

“She tried chaining me to my bed. Dad decided it was time for her to be checked out by professionals. She won’t be home except for supervised visitation. Since I’m over 18, she doesn’t have a reason to come home.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“I can start seeing you again. As far as Dad knows you’re a girl, and we can let that be all he knows.”

Suddenly, Valentine’s Day became wonderful.