In high school, I started dating a girl. She was wonderful, funny, smart, a little bit out of my league. We started getting serious, and about half way through the year I decided to tell her my biggest secret. Because if I was going to be spending a lot of time with her, she should know.
So, one day after school, I pulled her aside and told her that I liked to dress up as a girl. At first she was confused. Here was this boy that she liked telling her that he liked to dress up as a girl. I was nervous to get it out, because it had been a cause of conflict with a couple of other girls in the past. But her confusion turned into a smile, and I could see that she was excited about something.
“What?” I asked.
“I get to dress you up!” she said, thrilled.
I couldn’t help but be relieved. She didn’t reject me; in fact she supported me. Whenever I would dress up around her, she would always treat me how I wanted to be treated. Over time, I began to realize that there was no shame in dressing up as a woman. In fact, I began to realize that this had always been a part of me. I wasn’t weird, I shouldn’t be ashamed of myself and not being the masculine man that people expected me to be.
Our relationship didn’t last too long after high school. I was worried that I would never find someone like her again, but we reconnected after a time and became close friends. She was there when I got my wig, took me shopping for girls’ clothes that fit, defends me when would-be naysayers try to ridicule me. She gives me makeup tips on occasions.
Through each other, we both discovered our gender fluidity. We both defy the stereotypes of our respective genders. We love each other as sisters do, and we’ve supported each other in our struggle of fitting in our own skin.
My secret was that I liked dressing up as a girl. But now, I realize it doesn’t have to be a secret any longer, due to her and my closest friends. I have accepted who I am, and who I am is a woman.
