A Step Off the Path

A Conversation with Patsy

"Daddy, why aren't I a girl?"

His father took a breath, "Well now, Patrick. When babies are born, they are either born as a boy baby or a girl baby. You were born a boy baby, just as I was. Boy babies grow up to be boys and eventually dads like me."

The four-year-old frowned, thinking.

The father went on, "These days, some people don't like how they were born and decide to change . . ."

"Keep it simple, Perry," admonished his wife with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess so. Patrick, look at your elder sister. She was born a girl baby and is growing up as a girl."

"So Cathy will grow up to be a mummy."

"That's right."

"Daddy, why can't I wear skirts?" the five-year-old queried.

"Now, that's a curly one, Patrick. I think your Mum can probably answer that better than I can."

A sigh from the mother, "You could wear a skirt, darling, but people would think it was strange and some may not be nice about it - laugh at you and say nasty things."

"Oh."

"Of course, in some parts of the world . . ."

"Keep it simple, Leya," chided her husband getting his own back at last.

They laughed while Patrick frowned in thought.

"So I could wear one here at home where no one would see me?"

The parents raised eyebrows at each other.

"I suppose so."

"I'm going to ask Cathy to lend me one of hers."

"Mummy, who decided that I should be a boy, you or Daddy?"

Leya looked fondly at her six-year-old son standing there wearing one of his sister's grown-out-of skirts.

"Neither of us, sweetheart. Nature decides that."

"Nature?"

"Yes. Just as nature decides when it should rain, or where a bird makes its nest."

"Oh."

"Daddy, I want to grow my hair long so that I can do it like Cathy does hers."

"Well, you're seven now, so I guess you can grow your hair long if you wish. But you'd better get Mum to help you with how to do it."

"Mummy, can you buy me girls' undies? I tried on a pair of Cathy's and they feel better and I like the look of them better too," asked Patrick, shortly after he had turned eight.

Leya studied her small son with concern, "Are you sure, Patrick?"

"Yes, of course," Patrick replied, puzzled that there should be a problem.

"Mum, can I get my ears pierced?"

Mother and father looked at each other. Patrick went on, "There are some kids at school who were allowed to get their ears pierced when they turned nine."

"Are they girls?" queried Leya.

"Yeah . . . but what difference does that make?"

"Patrick, Mum and I are getting worried about where this is all going."

"What?"

"This dressing up in girls' clothes and making yourself look like a girl."

"But, I like to do it. It makes me feel good and I look a lot better."

"Pat, would you rather be a girl, is that it?"

"I don't know, Mum."

"Daddy, if I'd been born a girl, what would you have called me?"

"Ah, let me see. Maybe, Patrica, or Patsy, or Patti . . ."

"I like Patsy. I think I should be called Patsy at home."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Is that okay?"

Resigned sigh, "I suppose so. I'll tell Mum and Cathy."

"Patsy, your eleventh birthday is coming up. Is there anything special you want?"

"Yes Mum, more of my own clothes."

"You mean girls' clothes?"

"Of course."

-------

Mum and Dad had organised a surprise party. It was six months past my twelfth birthday and I would be starting high school in two weeks' time.

I heard Dad say to the guests as they assembled in the living room, "You have all been wondering what the surprise is. Well, I can now tell you that the surprise is for you. If you will come this way, please."

I was out the back in our enclosed patio area with Mum and Cathy. I was sitting on the couch with my legs tucked up. My feet were encased in a pair of white slingback shoes with a modest heel.

I was wearing a loose, black and white, polka dot skirt and a tight black, off-the-shoulder top with a tiny amount of chest padding. A pearl choker was around my neck.

My shiny, straight dark hair was hanging down each side of my head and past my shoulders. My face had been perfectly made up by my mother and sister.

I felt terrific, but a little scared. I tried to keep my face composed.

Mum gave me a smile and a wink, and as the guests came out announced clearly:

"Everybody, we want you to meet our daughter, Patsy."