Melanie's Story -- Chapter 26 -- Cross-Dressing Day

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CHAPTER 26 -- Cross-Dressing Day

One day around the beginning of April, something happened that really upset me. When I got to school, people were buzzing about something, but I didn't pay much attention. When I got to my English class, though, I saw that some of the boys were wearing girls' uniforms, and I started to get nervous. Nobody said anything about it, and I sat down. When the class started, the teacher started calling the boys that were wearing girls' uniforms Miss So-and-so instead of Mister So-and-so. Some of the students would look at those boys and then look at me. I couldn't imagine what this was all about, but I was sure it had something to do with me -- after all, I was the only boy who normally dressed like a girl. I noticed that the other kids picked up on the "Miss So-and-so" thing and did it, too. I kept getting more and more nervous, waiting for something awful to happen. I had trouble concentrating in class. Finally, I asked the teacher if I could go see Ms. Ellis, the psychologist. My voice was pretty shaky, maybe that's why the teacher didn't ask me why. She did remind me to take my books with me "in case you don't come back before class is over."

Ms. Ellis didn't seem surprised to see me and she already knew about the boys in girls' uniforms. Word had gotten around about the boys before the first class, and they'd decided that if they were going to dress as girls, they would be treated as girls in every way. They'd have to use the girls' bathrooms and go to girls' phys ed. This made me feel worse. I told her how upset I was and how it brought back all the experiences I'd had at West High. I was sure it was a way to make fun of me and tell me I didn't belong here. I was kind of hysterical. She told me I could stay in the office as long as I needed to and could even go home. She kept talking to me and telling me that no one would let anyone make fun of me and they were fine with me just as I was. I finally settled down and went to math class late.

When I got out of math class one or two of the girls told me they'd heard I was upset, but I shouldn't worry, they had my back. I saw a teacher directing one of those boys away from the boys' bathroom. Later, when I used the bathroom, I saw one come in. He didn't look too cocky, mostly nervous, and he tried to sort of sneak into a stall and sneak out again, but one of the girls reminded him to wash his hands. There were two boys in our gym class. We were outside that day, and they were late coming out because they'd had to borrow gym suits from the school and then had trouble figuring out how to put them on. We all acted like they were girls but not our friends. By this time, I was still upset but not freaking out. After school I had my appointment with Dr. Gordon and talked about how upset I was. She said it was a productive session, though I was still upset at the end.

The next day, the boys were back in their usual uniforms: plaid pants, white shirt and plaid tie, and plaid jacket. I started to calm down. At lunch, though, I was sitting with Teresa and her friends when one of the boys who'd dressed as a girl came over. I tensed up and muttered to the girl next to me, "what's he going to do to me now?"

"I'm Dennis Lambert, from your English class, remember? I just wanted to apologize for getting you so upset yesterday," he said. "If I'd known how you would take it, I wouldn't have dressed that way and I'd have tried to talk the other boys into not dressing, too."

"If you weren't doing it to get me worked up, why did you do it?" I honestly couldn't think of any other reason.

"I think a lot of the guys just did it to be doing something different. But actually, I wanted to know what it was like to be a boy that suddenly had to dress and act like a girl. I guess I thought I'd understand what you were going through." He did sound contrite.

"And what did you find out? What was it like for you?" I asked like I was sure it would be something stupid. I was mad at all of them, but he was the only one coming over so I could yell at him.

"It was weird. It felt really weird."

"You have no idea. You have no idea!" I was shaking. "You think it's weird? That's what I feel like when I'm feeling 'normal.' Think what it's like when I'm reminded that I'm not normal, that I'm some kind of freak! You got to satisfy your curiosity and then change back the next day. I'm stuck here, neither boy nor girl. I came to this school trying to forget my nightmare at West High. I hoped that since I couldn't live as a boy, at least I could try to live as a girl and feel sort of normal. And then you and your buddies come along and remind me that I'm not. I thought people here would be better than at West High, but I guess I was wrong. I hope you had lots of fun, because I paid a high price for your fun."

He looked stunned. He muttered "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," over and over again as he backed away from our table.

I spent the next few minutes concentrating on my breathing, like Dr. Gordon had taught me, and managed to settle down. I apologized to the other girls for making a scene, but they all said they were glad I told him off, they'd have done it if I hadn't.

I started to feel better after that. By the time Respect class came along, I was feeling pretty okay. Like a lot of the classes, today's class talked a lot about understanding how other people might see things differently and I got to thinking about Dennis. He wasn't a mean kid, and it was unfair of me to compare him to the kids at West High. That night, at dinner, I talked it over with Teresa and my aunt and uncle. Teresa thought he had it coming to him, but I said I thought I kind of overreacted. I was also thinking that I needed friends and I wasn't going to have any if I cut people out of my life every time they pushed one of my buttons, but I didn't say that.

Next day, at lunch, I put my lunch down at Teresa's table and then walked over to Dennis's table. I felt a hole in the bottom of my stomach and I thought about how a prisoner who was going to his execution must feel. There were mostly boys at the table and they all looked nervous when they saw me.

"Dennis," I said, "I want to apologize for yelling at you yesterday. I still think you weren't very considerate, but you didn't deserve all the stuff I said. Especially the part about being like West High. That was really unfair. It's just that I've had a lot of stuff going on in my life the past six months or so and I guess I just dumped it all on you. I'm sorry. I did wrong. Can we be friends? Or at least, not enemies?" I put out my hand.

He stood up and shook my hand. "Friends." Then he took a deep breath and tried to smile. "If you want to eat with us some time, feel free. Any time."

"Thanks. Maybe another day. Right now, I'd better get back before my lunch is cold."

Teresa thought I'd been too generous, but I said, "you know how your father says, you can never have too many friends or too few enemies. He seems like a nice boy. I mean, at least he tried to apologize, which is more than anyone else did."

The next day, I told Teresa and her friends I was going to eat with Dennis and his friends. "Sort of a peace offering," I said nervously. Dennis's friends had already made a space for me next to Dennis. I don't remember what we talked about. I remember feeling that if I wasn't careful, I'd start talking and acting like I was a boy and I was confused enough as it was.

I ended up eating with them once or twice a week and got to know Dennis better. He really was a nice boy, always trying to do the right thing. He wanted to become a doctor so he could help people, and he liked Gabriel because it was about studying hard, which you need to do if you want to go to med school. He asked if we could get together some weekend. I didn't want to go to his place, but Teresa usually had her friends over at our place. I was also a little nervous about being alone with him without someone like Teresa around. We worked it out that he would come over, but Teresa and her friends would be in the basement while Dennis and I hung out in the living room.

When he was over, we talked about a lot of things. I told him something of what I'd gone through. One thing was nice: because he knew what it was like to be a boy, he could understand a part of me that Teresa and her friends couldn't. He talked about people seeing him as too nerdy and feeling pressure to be a little more, I don't know, macho maybe. Even at Gabriel, the other boys thought he could act a little tougher and a little rowdier. Part of the reason he went along with the cross-dressing was that it might make the other boys see him as more willing to break the rules.

Teresa and her friends would wander by every now and then on the way to and from the kitchen or our bedroom. One time Teresa sat down with us and talked with Dennis for a while, and later Bethany did, too. "It's almost like they want to check me out and see if it's okay for you to be around me," he said.

"I think it's because we know that guys can be pretty mean, even when they don't intend to. Being mean, even to your friends, seems to be a guy thing. We girls" -- I was trying to make sure he knew I considered myself one of them -- "have to look out for one another. And I still don't have a lot of experience as a girl. They have my back." I suddenly realized this was the first time in my life I could honestly say that someone had my back. It felt nice.

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Comments

That's sweet

I'm glad she made a friend, may he be the first of many. Can't wait for more.

nomad

This is a great story

I feel so bad for her, but it seems like she's adjusting.

If the boys came up with the

If the boys came up with the idea and not the school officials, why did the school not stop it before it happened? As far as I can tell, at least the doctors know how this could harm Melanie's mental being.
At least Andrew has enough courtesy to apologize to Melanie.

Such a lovely tale

of adjustment, judgmental behaviors, prejudice, how vicious teens can be to anyone outside their ideal of normal, and the struggle just to be accepted by others. You subtly (sometimes) and brutally (sometimes) put it into our faces that we can all try just a bit harder to act and think of others first, and not worry so about our own appearance for just being a decent human being. I'm not politically correct, but neither am I one to go along just to get along. I believe in the biblical admonishment to "do unto others, as you would have others do unto you". I love that your story makes me really think about such weighty matters.

I am a Proud mostly Native American woman. I am bi-polar. I am married, and mother to three boys. I hope we can be friends.