My name is...well actually I should say I was born with the name of Trevor Marks. I know not the best, but then again not the worst. My mother Louise Marks is, I should say was, of mennonite/hudderite background. I have never met my grandparents.

To explain that, you have understand my mother a bit. When she was young she fell in love with the idea of teaching, in a school, that was not in the "community". She left with my father, who I have never met nor know his name, and after going to a "heathen" university for her degree, took up teaching.

She never totally gave up her background. I know she never wore pants of any kind, even in the coldest weather. She did wear more conventional dresses, skirts and blouses, when teaching. She also wore a small black cap over her hair bun while teaching. At home, or shopping, gardening, etc she wore the more traditional black hair covering that is almost as long as her hair was. She usually wore it braided under the covering. Wet it was almost to her butt.

Usual blouse and long dress, she preferred back zippers. She was a very good seamstress as she made all her own clothing, except for underwear. She taught me how to sew and make clothing when I was young. I mostly remember how to do it.

She also was very active around the house. Baking, we always had scratch made cakes, pies, cookies, bread. Cooking, gardening, cleaning. But she always made time for me. I loved her a lot and it hurt very much when I found out she passed away.

The one 'thing' I had with my mother was that she was very protective of me and fed me a little too much. I was three hundred pounds by the time I was sixteen. She did not think it was a big deal. I however thought that highschool was hell. I guess I blamed her for it. So during college I moved out after a huge fight.

We are, or I should say, were very stubborn. I know mom turned my old room into her new sewing room instead of the damp basement. I however have spent the last two years on a diet.

I wont say I have gotten to my new weight easily or without problems. Losing a pound or two a week, sometimes three if I was lucky, took off the weight but it also exposed some other concerns.

I do not have a male figure. My waist is now pretty small, but my hips had widened, unknowingly, while I was so fat growing up. I have what I call man boobies. My doctor suspects that I had a case of gynecomastia while growing up but the extra weight hid it so well that nobody noticed. If I want I can fill an A cup bra very well. I was measured but had never worn one.

You have to understand that it may have been possible for me to grow taller but because of all the fat , at least I hope so, I never got any taller than my mom's five foot three inches. At my lowest weight I was just over a hundred pounds. My doctor told me point blank I had gone to far. So now I sit at a just acceptable one twenty five...ish. I still think I'm too fat. Maybe it's more wishful thinking that losing more weight will get rid of the breasts and hips.

While at college I was introduced to a rather simple diet plan. In a nutshell you eat from around noon to six and only have water the rest of time. No not constant eating, usually two meals. At first it's really hard, but after awhile it gets easier. Now I do it without thinking and find having a small breakfast at eight, usually fruit and juice, to be distasteful. Doctor insisted.

For snack foods I have either carrots or salted cashews. I LOVE cashews! I also go for walks daily, when weather permits of course. I no longer have blood pressure issues. I may have arthritis when I am older but since I am still quite young, being only twenty six, it may not be a concern. Provided I drink enough milk, another thing I am not that fond of.

Farm milk, which is what I grew up on, that's fine to drink. Store bought milk...shudder. I'm trying but it is just so ...lacking. It's like milk flavoured water. After growing up with fresh vegetables as well store bought are ok but again are lacking. I mean come on the potatoes are like....uh where is the rest of it? I mean our potatoes always were big. One potato could be used to make a pot mashed potatoes for supper. Store bought you need at least five.

You don't really think about these things till after you no longer have them. I picked many a weed from our backyard garden. But all the rest of it ...I think I know what to do but mom had tricks for everything.

Thing is when I last saw her for Christmas mass she didn't look bad. I did not know she had had part of both breasts removed to cancer or that she had lost most of her hair under her hair cover. We fought, of course, over my losing weight. She thought it was bad and that I should be growing a beard. I hated facial hair so much I bought a machine to permanently remove the hair from my face. As well as my chest, arms, and legs.

Okay I really went overboard on the legs part. After being disgusted, being fat and hairy, for so long I admit I went a little too far. That is not to say I don't have any leg or arm hair at all. It is just light white fine hair that is very hard to see. Laser home systems do not work on white hair.

I make no excuses for that damnable crotch hair. A few ingrown hairs, and resulting cysts,as well as a number of painful rashes that was going for sure. Yes I look kinda weird down there but I like it. Live with it or the TMI or whatever. The same goes for armpit hair. Heat rashes in your armpits are not fun.

For awhile I have been wearing rather loose clothes. The funeral I barely remember what I wore. It was raining and there was some people, who may have been relatives but wouldn't talk to me, I just sat in my plastic chair with tears going down my face and my longish hair, another rebellion since mom used to buzz cut my hair all the time, plastered to the sides of my face.

It took the better part of a year to get all the lawyers and settlements done. Apparently for me to go to college, which I just barely got a teaching degree, mom had redone the mortgage on the house years ago. At the time she had also taken out insurance that would pay off said mortgage on her death. Which it did, just not all the interest. That took a bit to settle with the estate. She had also been putting money away for years into investments. Not a lot at a time, just a little.

Honestly I am not sure if she really knew the total value or not. Lets just say that when all of them were added together the total was quite staggering. Not millions staggering but close to one million, when they mature.

Since I am her only child, and more importantly she willed everything to me, it should have been a simple process....but it wasn't. I was never privy to details but her former community believed that some of her assets should have gone to them. It was denied but they tried.

Which is why I am here back at home after all the crap. I had intended to be here earlier but getting my apartment settled, inspected and my meagre damage deposit back, took a little longer than I thought. I had sold all my old ratty furniture to a new kid moving into the apartments. And after cleaning out all my old clothes, most of which either didn't fit, or were ratty looking, I had my bag with my computer a pair of socks, sweats, and two t shirts.

The suit I wore to mom's funeral I never want to see again. It was of course raining and dark outside when I arrived. The garage opener I did not have, just a door key. Letting myself into my empty, well it felt like it, childhood home didn't feel that great. Don't get me wrong I had the option of selling the house and everything in it. I just couldn't.

It may sound silly but to me 'home' has always been here. They say home is where the heart is, and I guess mine has always been here. I was of course wet and cold. That nasty wind just plastered me with rain as I struggled to open the door.

Once inside I stripped off all my wet clothes and made a dash to the bathroom intending to have a hot shower. I was mistaken, the water heater had been turned down to its lowest setting. While I was clean I was freezing. I looked in my case and found out that my spare clothes were also very damp. Standing around in a towel was just not going to warm me up.

Out of habit I went to my old room. Of course being my mom's sewing room there was nothing there, well except for what looked to be something on the dress dummy. I was very hesitant to enter my moms room. I had been in there a lot over the years with my mom but now that she was gone it felt like I was trespassing.

I had to tell myself that everything in the house was now mine. Entering I had to convince myself that everything in here was mine a few times. Which in hindsight may not have been the best idea.

I had good intentions. I went to 'my' dresser and pulled out a pair of panties, then to the nightstand and pulled out a nightie before putting on 'my' heavy housecoat. At 'my' vanity I sat and brushed out my hair before putting it into a braid. It just felt, well proper, to do so.

Ditching the housecoat I lay under heavy covers and fell asleep once I got warm. At one point later I sorta registered something snuggling up against me.

I slept for about an hour waking up around six pm. I was still a little on the groggy side. I felt a purr at my side and wondered who the cat was. When I moved and looked I saw Kitty. It was my moms cat. She had taken in the stray awhile back. I wondered how he had survived all these months by himself. He was not completely skinny but I could see he had not properly eaten in awhile. I guess being a stray to begin with he had gone out hunting. I started to pet his matted fur and felt really sorry for the poor guy.

At a guess he had come each day hoping to see my mom and had probably slept in the house somewhere. Considering how much he purred as I petted him he had missed her as much as I did. I cried for the poor guy.

Getting out of bed in a nightgown I went looking for a pet brush. I found one in the kitchen but any cat food there was probably long past it's due date. One look in the fridge made me want to gag. Poor kitty was meowing around and around my legs. I had nothing for him to eat. That meant I would have to go to the store.

Then I remembered my very wet clothes. I pulled out the damp ones and thought about using them but it seems that my computer case was not as clean as I thought as they kinda smelled a little.

Well crap I thought. I knew my mom didn't have any pants when she was alive. I looked down at kitty ready to tell him that there was nothing I could do. But my heart just broke.

Reentering my bedroom I thought about what had occurred to me, Kitty had followed me of course meowing. I reached into my dresser and pulled out a bra with shaking hands. I would never fill my mother's d cup bras. However I spotted a box in the dresser. It contained some forms for women who had partial mastectomies. I read the instructions and thought what the hell. I only had to make myself passable enough to get a few grocieries for tonight.

Put on glue attach forms, not a biggie. Looking down I cringed but if something happened having a lump showing in my panties would not be a good thing. I used more glue to uh, reshape things down below. No way would it pass close inspection but at least with my panties on I had a more proper front.

Slip on pantyhose, slip not a big deal. I wasn't getting a thrill out of it. It was more like putting on a costume than anything really. My mom had always had this bang thing across the front so I did my best to duplicate it. Not great but it helped change my face from a possible boy's face to that of a girl. Actually I was surprised how close to my mother I looked.

Mother had never been a big fan of makeup being that she only used mascara and lipstick. Well and had her nails painted red. Doing the mascara wasn't easy. I skipped the nails but I did file them. Lipstick is not as easy as it looks to get on either till you smack your lips together.

Chain around my neck, ladies watch on one wrist, and then I thought about earrings. I didn't have pierced ears but I knew that my ear lobes had next to no feeling because of a touch of frostbite when I was small. I did wash the earings before I tried to put them in. I stopped when it didn't seem to be working.

At my closet I removed one of my blouses and a dress, put both on though the zipper was more than a little fun to zip up. Back at my vanity I worked some more on my hair, mostly undo braid that was quite bad, brush out and then use multiple hair pins to get my covering on.

In the mirror I saw what I could only call my mothers daughter. Eyebrows could use a clean up and the hair wasn't that great but still nobody would be able to confuse me as being a boy. It was good enough. With kitty constantly getting in my legs I had to stop and brush him. I couldn't get all the knots out as there was just too many but at least his head was looking better.

What really surprised me was that my mom's shoes, flats thankfully, fit me perfectly. After transferring the contents of my wallet into my mothers old one then along with my keys I put her old purse on my shoulder. It felt very weird.

I made sure to lock the house before getting into my car and driving as quick as I could to the nearest grocery store. As I drove I tried to make my voice sound less like a guys. I had never had a deep voice to begin with so it was more of putting a bit of a high note at the end of each word.

I had to remind myself that I wasn't really breaking any rules since these were my clothes. If someone doesn't like it tough. Wheeling the trolley in with breasts that bounced in my bra felt weird and I altered my walk so that the bouncing was to a minimum.

I searched the pet food isle and found Kitty's dry food but the wet cat food I couldn't find. I hoped he would be happy with the dry. The next isle I found the bulk bin where I got my fill of cashews. I also picked up some disposable gloves and garbage bags. There was no point getting anything till I cleaned out the fridge and cupboards so I got one of their ready made sandwiches to do me for tonight.

At the checkout I encountered my first, uhm, hiccup. The cashier wanted to talk.

Looking a little too much like my mother I had to scramble to come up with a name after she asked.

"Hi Lou...no you can't be Louise but you look so much like her."

Niece maybe...not Trevor.. but... uh...

"Oh no my mother passed away from cancer. I'm Theresa." Homer's DOH sounded off in my head.

We chatted for a little bit, I just wanted to get home. Once my grociers were done and carried out to my car by a guy from the store, apparently a proper woman is not supposed to carry heavy bags or something. That or it is what my mother used to do. I didn't really mind, it was just annoying.

Back at home Kitty loved his dish of cat food a little too much. He threw up on my clothes on floor, yeah. I had already grabbed a garbage bag and my new gloves. I just threw them all into the bag before grabbing some soap and water to wash the floor in an icecream pail. Since I was down there I washed the whole floor then tackled the fridge. It took more than the one garbage bag. The few dishes that had been in the fridge, I can only guess leftovers I washed in the sink before throwing them into the dishwasher.

I washed out the fridge and freezer before I turned the fridge back on. The cupboards got pretty much the same treatment. I should have worn an apron over my dress as I got it a bit wet with wash water. Thankfully Kitty didn't gorge out on food and throw up multiple times. I did brush him a few more times that night so his coat was better. I had to use the scissors to cut off some of the big clumps though. I hope he forgives me.

I vacuumed, dusted, and cleaned for the rest of the night so by the time I was ready for bed my home was cleaner. Not perfect but I was satisfied. The great big ball of hair revealed Kitty's bed by the door with the cat door.

The basement I found a badly dirty litter box and a fair amount of stuff outside of said box. That took me a few trips to clean. I had made a list of what would be needed, sugar, flour, litter, brown sugar, some store veggies as the ones in the basement had left a mess. The garbage pile outside was five or six bags. Honestly I was tired but struggling to bring them to the curb took a bit more energy than I had left at ten at night.

I had learned my lesson and did not leave my clothes on floor but put them into the laundry basket before I took a nice long bath with epson salts. My nightie felt nice and warm as I sat at my vanity brushing my hair before putting it into a braid. I yawned, being very tired, and didn't think twice before putting my studs into my ears. Then I did my nails with a nice red color before retiring to the living room to watch some mindless tv. I didn't make it five minutes into a movie before I zonked out on the couch, Kitty purring having lulled me to sleep.

I never even looked at the time when I woke up and moved to my bed.

The next morning I was still a little tired as I did my meagre makeup, did my hair, put on another dress and blouse before grabbing my purse and my grocerie list. There was a lot I wanted to get done today. As I was about to step into my car the garbage man showed up to collect all the bags. I turned to watch and it was only as they tossed in the last bag that I realized I may have put my clothes out at the curb instead of bringing them downstairs.

"Shit!" I plopped down on the car seat in shock. A one day costume had turned into a clusterfug.

"Okay not a big problem. I was going to buy some new clothes anyways."

Looking at myself in the mirror I noticed the earrings and thought to myself 'You are taking this to far girl!' Realized what I thought and banged my head on the steering wheel. "I need a shrink!"

I would love to say the trip to the big store was uneventful. It wasn't. I did try to go into the men's section to get some new clothes but it felt like a sin for me to even be there. I had to make do with the women's section. I wanted to get pants. I needed to get pants.

I got two skirts and two tops instead. One was an aline black skirt the other was a jean skirt. Two sweetheart neckline t shirt tops black and hot pink. I felt like an idiot. If there had been a psychologist in the store I would have been in there. There wasn't. I did get all the stuff on my list. Potatoes, a nice roast, soup bones, flour, sugar, litter, some veggies for the soup. I actually did fairly well. The selection of fish was not that good. I would have to drive out to the local docks and see if any of the avid fisherman were selling some fresh stuff.

I would do that later after I changed out of the stupid dress into something more normal. Which I did when I got home, I changed into my new jean skirt and black top to haul in the groceries. I put the one soup bone to boil on the stove while I got the rest into the fridge and pantry. I also set out ingredients to make bread later.

With my soup bones boiling away in the large pot, but not on max as it takes hours to make the base. I went off to the docks to see about getting some fish. I had thought that I would have trouble but surprisingly being a girl in a skirt made it quite easy to get some good fresh fish. I have never cooked catfish before but I now had six of them, two walleye and a pike. The older gentleman, who turned out to be a close neighbour, packed my fish in a plastic bag with ice and offered to smoke the walleye.

Of course I kept telling people my name was Theresa the whole day. Doh! Back at home I stirred my soup base, poured some warm water mixed with sugar and yeast into the bottom of my mothers old wooden bread bowl and used some crackers crushed up plus some of the butter I had bought today on the pike fillets. I would have to check a cookbook on the catfish. I had just taken out the frying pan and lemon to cook my fish when the doorbell rang. Kitty beat me to the door, of course. I knew what he wanted as the fish guts were in the old store bag outside the front door.

"Don't even think about it..." as I opened the door he ran out." Quick grab the bag and don't let him have it!" I said before I even knew who was outside. Frank, the fisherman neighbour, was quick and grabbed the bag.

"Oh is he your's?" the lady asked. She turned out to be Glenda , Franks wife.

"Well he was a stray my mother took in. I guess he went a little stray again after she died. I am hoping he doesn't become a problem."

"He should really have a collar and probably a check up and shots."Frank said. It turned out he was the local veterinarian. After a bit of ...well haggling... he took off with Kitty for a checkup. Glenda followed me into the house. She had brought over some potato salad. Looking at my poor meal for one fish I pouted.

Thankfully Glenda offered to share her recipe for catfish with me. I did cook up my pike, which we nibbled on as I worked at making bread. Glenda asked me questions about my bread and I explained each step. It's not that hard. Use tin pans, not aluminum. Know your oven as some don't bake right and most bake better in certain spots.

While I was making bread and Glenda was trying to pound out her half of the dough, two more neighbours showed up. I had no idea if the backyard BBQ worked or not. Mother had never liked gas BBQ's and preferred charcoal instead. This suited Brad and Sally quite fine. Sally took over another part of the counter making a salad. Judy and Doug had run out for some "supplies" Brad was out back working on cleaning out the ash of the BBQ or what not.

By the time Frank returned with a rather pissed off Kitty, he got three shots as he had worms and ear mites. He ran up to me and howled till I petted him. They thought it was funny. With my bread, and Glenda's rising in the warm oven. The potato salad and regular salad in bowls. My soup base beginning to look like more than just raw bones in water. Doug returned with the supplies, being steak. Sausage of some type. Hunter big surprise. Judy followed up not long after with handmade burgers. This suited Brad just fine as he had on the chef apron outside, no idea where that came from. He started to cook up the meat.

I got stuck cleaning up all the deck furniture. I had to wash everything as I had no idea what had last been on any of them. Which was a good thing as the table and one chair had sap. It's amazing what some good soap and water will take off.

I did get some ribbing about being my mother's daughter when I admitted to not currently owning any pants. I did get around to baking my bread, which was a big hit with butter, and June, Glenda, and Sally joined me in the kitchen as I worked at making soup when the stock was ready. Pasta, potatoes, carrots, broccoli stems, cabbage, celery all went into the soup that I stirred as everything cooked. They made it sound like it was the most amazing thing.

That night Kitty brought me presents in the form a of live mouse, and he ate two somethings on my kitchen floor. One was a bird I think.

He had much fun over the next day catching the mouse.

I got to know most of the neighbours at either my house or theirs over the next few weeks. Sometimes I would wear one of my blouses and dresses. My honouring my mother seemed to help with that.

When I did go shopping I kept trying and trying to get pants. But it felt so wrong for me to do so and would chicken out every time.

By the time I did see a counsellor I was, in essence, living completely as Theresa full time and would no longer respond to someone calling the name Trevor. I wont say it was easy but two summers later I returned from surgery to correct my plumbing and my name was legally Theresa Louise Marks.

Strangely people who used to know me as a child just assumed I was in a rebellious tomboy stage. I had to take my final exam in my blouse and dress with my hair covering to complete my teaching. I actually followed my mom in wearing the little black cap and blouse and skirts to and from work teaching at a local highschool.

I eventually met my husband Mark, who's parents had also been an ostracized mennonite family. We adopted three children. Two girls and a boy, who it turns out was more girl than boy. By the time my three girls were in their teens they, like me, wore dresses and hair coverings. While we didn't belong to any hudderite or mennonite community we did follow some of the teachings. I taught all my girls how to sew, clean, and cook. Mark taught them how to hunt, fish , and fix stuff. We regularly went to church.

Epilogue

When my grandmother passed away I was notified in the mail. She died at the late age of ninety eight. I took my three daughters with me as Mark was working at the time. Entering the community, even though we were all dressed properly, was a bit of a chore. I was given a long letter that my grandmother, who it turns out was also named Theresa. My girls were given some of the toys that had once been my mothers.

Grandma Theresa had kept track of mom, myself including my rather interesting change, as well as knew full well about my children. While we could never officially be a part of the community, trans people are heathens, we were allowed to attend mass once a year on Christmas.

Mark and I grew old together never once having a real fight. We had disagreement, but never any fights. We did some boating and camping with the girls. And when they went off to university, or had surgery, we did our best to help them. Sadly the eldest Emily died giving birth to her first child. Deanne took over her baby as she could have none. We do not know who the father is.

Kitty lived for a long time. In his older years he mostly sat around on either mine or Mark's lap. After his passing we had all but given up having another cat when a tiny little kitten found my laundry basket. I suspect that she may have been abandoned by her mother. I nursed her on my breasts with milk from a syringe till she could lick up milk on her own. She was also called Kitty.

My youngest Louise, went through a rebel stage, we fought, ,I cried at being a poor mother. She wore pants. Dated around with many men, and a few women.

Years later Louise showed up on my doorstep, once again wearing a blouse and dress with hair covering that she had sewed herself. Baby in arm. Danny is such a cute grandson. Louise leaves him with Mark and I, now both retired, quite often while she teaches at school. Much like my mother, her namesake, taught. I gifted her my mothers small hair bun cover on her first day as a teacher. She wears it with pride.

Deanne's three boys are quite happy to run around hunting or fishing.

While most grandparent's would be concerned that their 'grandson' prefers to wear dresses and play with dolls and lego's we are not. Though...I can't help but wonder if mother is somehow laughing at me from heaven.

p.s. When we both retired I finally did find out that yes all of my and my mother's saving investments did leave me a millionairess many times over. Taxes are however a bitch!

Comments are welcome