“Beautiful, girls,” Miss Fullerton announces as the twenty-odd teenagers bow, before extending their arms and legs into the most elegant shapes. “Extend… And pointe.”

“C’est magnifique,” Mademoiselle Renou congratulates in her refined French accent. “Group one, you will continue practising at the barre. Group two, you will practise your pas de deux.” I, as a member of group two, nod, before following Mademoiselle Renou- not to mention a dozen leotard-clad teenaged girls- to the centre of the room.

“Nicole, you first,” Mademoiselle Renou says, and the slender, brown-haired girl smile as she approaches me, adjusting her leotard before taking my hand.

“This should be you, standing where I am,” Nicole whispers sadly as we begin our steps, with Nicole elegantly balancing en pointe whilst I remain off the tips of my toes, my white t-shirt, black boy’s leggings and soft leather dancing shoes a far cry from Nicole’s skin-tight dancewear and shiny satin pointe shoes.

That’s not to say that, in the three months since my thirteenth birthday, I haven’t had (and taken) the opportunity to dress up in pink tights and a skimpy black leotard. It’s just that I’ve never done so in front of strangers… And at the rate things are going, I never will, either.

As was promised, immediately following my second coming out to my parents, I began seeing a counsellor on a fortnightly basis to discuss my stress and frustration about my life as a boy. My frustration levels only increased when I learned that a diagnosis of gender dysphoria couldn’t simply be given out from one counselling session, but had to be established over the course of several sessions, and verified by a second counsellor as well, who I won’t be able to see for months. Laura assured me that she went through the same process to get her diagnosis- but at the time, she was eleven, and not in any danger of turning into a man. I, on the other hand, have already started, despite my best efforts- a fact that’s hammered home as I dance with Laura.

Even though she’s eighteen months older than me, Laura is still an inch shorter than I am, and is much, much skinnier. In fact, every part of her is narrower than I am- with the notable exception of the ‘swelling’ on her chest. This makes it very easy for us to keep pretending that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but with every passing day, it makes it harder for me to pretend that I’m a girl. In addition to my height, my skin is growing firmer and starting to sprout hair, my shoulders are widening and my muscles are growing. With the exception of my six close friends and the two teachers (who both know my ‘secret’), every girl in the studio is looking at me and thinks ‘when he’s a few years older, he is going to be a stud’. Whenever I look at myself and think the same thing, I shudder in terror.

I’m just glad I’m not the tallest member of our group, as I’m reminded when I dance with the 5’ 8” Megan. For now, I can at least try to ‘suspend my disbelief’ at my situation, but the more time passes, the more damaged my body will be by the testosterone I’m producing. There is one constant positive in my life, though- the support of my friends and my family- however grudging the latter support is.

“Great lesson, everyone!” Miss Fullerton giggles as she dismisses the class. “We’ll begin rehearsing for la soixante-troisième papillon next week, so make sure you know your steps perfectly.”

“Ashley,” Mademoiselle Renou calls quietly, so as not to attract the attention of the teenagers leaving the studio- well, apart from the six teenaged girls who follow me to where the Frenchwoman is stood. “Not too tired for some ‘extra tuition’, I trust?”

“Of course not,” I say with a warm smile. “Thank you so much again for doing this for me.”

“It’s fifteen minutes, twice a week,” Mademoiselle Renou shrugs. “A small price to pay for a dancer who can dance both male and female parts!” I giggle as I join the other six girls back at the barre, before all seven of us perform the same steps and stretches- the same FEMALE steps and stretches. Despite my out-of-place attire, I feel just as elegant and feminine as the other six young women, and even though it lasts a mere quarter of an hour, the experience gives me a high that I know will last for days- or at least, until the next time I’m stood at the barre with the six girls. The six OTHER girls.

“You are SO talented, Ashleyrina!” Laura squeaks, cuddling my arm close to her ‘contoured’ chest as we leave the studio, before she and the other girls remove their tights (as it’s August, our teachers give them permission to wear their tights over their leotards, rather than under). “It sucks that you couldn’t take the spot that opened in the class a couple of weeks ago…”

“Yeah,” Nicole sighs. “Why did Kayleigh-Ann leave the class again?”

“I think she moved away, or something,” Priya muses as she pulls a loose summer dress on over her petite figure.

“Oh damn,” Harriet mock-sighs after she pulls on her own loose skirt. “Looks like my tights have got a hole in them… Guess I’ll have to put them into the ‘bin’, heh.” The seven of us all giggle as Harriet walks toward the studio’s small bin, before deliberately turning around and shoving the tights into the pocket of my dance bag.

“Make sure you wash them first!” Miss Fullerton giggles as she watches our ‘demonstration’.

“Can do,” I giggle girlishly as I follow Laura, Megan and Harriet into the latter’s mother’s car.

“Hi girls!” Harriet’s mother says with a warm grin.

“Hi Mrs. Cooper,” Laura, Megan and I all respond in unison. As you may be able to tell from Mrs. Cooper saying just ‘girls’ rather than ’girls and boy’, she is perfectly aware of- and accepting of- my ‘situation’, as are all my parents’ friends. Priya’s and Suriya’s father even offered to intervene on my behalf with the school (where he’s one of the governors) to allow me to attend in a girl’s uniform- but that proposal was blocked by one of the fathers, the most important father of them all- my father.

Before I came out- before the second, successful coming out, anyway- dad always tried his best to treat me as ‘one of the guys’. We’d talk- or rather, he’d talk- about football, cars, all manner of manly activities. He’d talk about taking me on fishing trips or going camping, just the two of us, with no girls- not even my sisters- allowed to come along.

Now that he knows who I truly am… It’s almost like I no longer exist in dad’s eyes. Gone is the attempt at male bonding, gone is the friendly teasing, gone is the father I know… And in his place is a man who can barely hide the contempt in his eyes whenever he looks at me. Simply by being who I am, it’s as if I’ve betrayed the entire male gender- and worse yet, betrayed HIM.

“Ash,” dad mumbles as I walk through the door.

“Hi Ashley!” Mum says, giving me a warm hug. “How was ballet?”

“Good,” I giggle. “They’re holding auditions for their autumn production next week. I doubt I’ll beat Thomas to the lead role, but I’ll give it a go anyway.”

“You could always audition for one of the girl roles…” Dad snorts, barely tearing his attention away from his TV show.

“Andrew…” Mum admonishes, silencing her husband. “Go upstairs and get changed, Ashley.” I smile and nod at mum’s instruction, as with my brother and sisters all in bed, it’s obvious what mum means by ‘changed’.

After throwing Harriet’s old tights into my washing basket, I open my wardrobe and smile happily at the contents within. Over the last three months, my friends- especially Laura- have done their best to rebuild the collection of clothes I’d so callously discarded after my first, disastrous coming out, and with mum supplementing the collection with the odd bit here and there, I now have almost as many girl’s clothes as I do boy’s. Dad quickly found out about the ‘collection’, and, as predicted, almost had a fit- but mum made it very clear to him that it was my decision what I wore, not his. I’m still restricted to only wearing these clothes in my bedroom, of course- never in front of my sisters, and most definitely never in front of dad- but the sheer freedom I feel as I strip off my dancewear and pull on a cute, knee-length summer dress more than compensates for this unfair rule. Well, compensates for now, anyway…

After brushing out my hair- which, with mum’s support, I refuse to have cut- I grab my tablet computer and open up Skype, where a conversation between the other six girls is already in progress.

“Hi, Ashleyrina!” The girls all yell, making me giggle girlishly.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak quietly, out of fear out waking up my younger siblings. We spend the next two hours gossiping about our lives, about ballet, about music, about the impending end of the summer holidays, and for every second of it, I’m able to forget that I was ever a boy.

However, reality comes flooding back at the end of the call, as I strip off my dress, slick back my hair and return to being the boy I desperately wish I wasn’t. As I pull on my pyjamas, though, I smile at the knowledge that, much like my time as a girl, my time as a boy will also only be temporary.

“Morning, Ashley!” Cassie and Dorothy both squeak as I head down to breakfast the following morning.

“Morning!” I giggle, giving both of my sisters cuddles before sitting down to eat (Bryony, my other sister, is sleeping in, in her efforts to try to be a typical teenaged girl despite the fact that she’s only ten).

“Morning, Ash!” Mum says. “What time are you going round to Laura’s?”

“Just after breakfast,” I say. “Don’t want to waste any of my Saturday, after all!” I smile, even as dad snorts- the first time this morning that he’s acknowledged my existence.

“I think Laura’s SO pretty!” Cassie squeaks. “And she’s a proper ballerina, too!”

“She’s only fourteen,” I say with a giggle. “She’s not a PROPER ballerina, she goes to school, like I do.”

“When I grow up,” Cassie continues, unfazed by my correction, “I’m going to be the best ballerina in the world, and I want to be just like Laura!” I giggle along with Cassie and Dorothy, even as dad rolls his eyes- in addition to not knowing about me, my sisters all still believe that Laura was born a girl- and dad’s made it very clearly to both myself and Laura that any attempt to shatter this illusion, even to the very mature Bryony, will result in a severe punishment.

After breakfast, I pull on a very simple pair of jeans and a plain, dark blue t-shirt- though I’m safe in the knowledge that I won’t have to tolerate these clothes for long, especially as I stuff a pair of girl’s panties, a plain lace-trimmed vest and the outfit I picked out last night into my backpack before heading down to Mr. Malik’s car to be taken to Laura’s house.

“Hi Ashley,” Priya says calmly as I slide onto the car’s back seat, whilst Suri remains uncharacteristically quiet. The girls may have accepted me again as ‘one of the girls’, but in Priya’s and Suriya’s case, my words and actions cut deep- and it’s clear it’ll take a while before I’m fully forgiven for what I did.

It doesn’t help that, the second I arrive at Laura’s house, the pretty blonde girl launches herself at me, kissing me and cuddling my arm close to her chest, which brings a look of pure envy to Suriya’s face. Still, Suri has her own boyfriend now, as do all the other girls (with the obvious exception of Harriet)- one of whom is already present at Laura’s house.

“Alright, mate?” George says, making me smile. “How long today before me saying that becomes wrong?”

“Not long,” I say with a smug grin as Laura leads me up to her room.

“And don’t come out until you’re GORGEOUS!” Laura giggles, and I don’t need to be told twice. I takes me no time at all to strip off my boy clothes, before pulling on my vest and panties, followed by a cute pleated miniskirt that used to belong to Harriet and one of Megan’s old pink tank tops. After brushing out my hair, I apply some of the make-up I carry with me in my backpack- just some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick, but even this is more than enough to turn the plain teenaged boy that I was into a cute, girly teenaged girl.

I giggle as I walk downstairs to wolf whistles from the girls, whilst George can barely keep a straight face at my appearance- though considering what his reaction could’ve been, a few friendly giggles are more than welcome.

“Mate,” George says, “it’s getting less weird every time, but it’s still pretty bloody weird!”

“But you ARE accepting HER, aren’t you, George?” Megan asks, cuddling George’s arm in the same way that Laura isn’t cuddling mine, now that I’m dressed as the girl I want to be.

“Well- yes, of course I am,” George says, making Megan giggle.

George has changed a lot over the last three months since I came out, in both a physical and mental sense. When he saw how impressed the girls were at his mature attitude when I came out, he made it a point to grow up, and fast. Sure, his new maturity is primarily so he can get girls, but he’s really growing into a sensible young man and a good friend, rather than the loud, laddish oaf he was twelve months ago. He’s even noticeably losing weight, thanks in part to the judo lessons he’s started taking (he’s promised to be my ‘bodyguard’ should I start attending school as a girl) and, at Megan’s insistence, the beginner ballet lessons he started last month. Sure, George was embarrassed at first, mainly as he was dancing with prepubescent girls and at 5’ 9”, he’s very tall for his age, but when Megan promised to go to every lesson with him, he quickly grew to like it. He of course makes it very clearly on a regular basis that there will never be a ‘Georgina’ in our gang- but I’m just happy to have him as a friend, masculinity and all.

“So,” Nicole asks as the eight of us sit down, and I smile at the fact that the one pair of legs that’s wearing trousers DOESN’T belong to me. “What are we doing today?”

“I vote nails!” Suriya giggles.

“Me too!” Megan squeaks.

“Then good news, George,” Laura teases. “You’re about to watch SEVEN gorgeous, girly girls so each other’s nails!”

“Got nowhere else to be,” George shrugs. “As long as the polish doesn’t come anywhere near my nails!”

“Not TODAY, anyway!” Megan teases as I help Laura set up a nail bar in her kitchen.

As always, when we paint each other’s nails, I take the first turn, as I’m going to have to have the polish removed before the end of the day. However, this doesn’t stop me from enjoying the sensation of seeing my nails enhanced with a beautiful fuchsia colour (to match my lipstick), and feeling more and more immersed in femininity with every nail that gets coloured. The whole ‘manicure’ for all seven of us lasts over an hour and a half, but to me, it seems like just a few minutes, I’m having that much fun. George, of course, looks bored stiff, and I can’t help but feel sorry for the boy- if only he knew how joyous it is to be a girl…

The rest of the afternoon is spent gossiping, dancing and listening to music (Miss Fullerton sent us all a preview of one of the tracks on Out of Heaven’s new album last night, which we’re all eager to listen to), before I’m marched up to Laura’s bedroom, where my nail polish and make-up is removed and I once again transform into the boy I don’t want to be. I bite my lip to keep myself from frowning as I exit Laura’s bedroom, though she can instantly see the pain underneath.

“This really sucks,” Laura pouts as she leads me downstairs. “I wish you could, like, live with me full-time as a girl, that way we could live together as sisters, you know? Like Priya and Suriya…”

“I know it sucks,” I sigh. “Tell you what- how about, if we both go to the same university, we agree to be each other’s room-mates? That way we can effectively be sisters, and I KNOW I’m going to be a girl full-time by then, hormones, the lot.”

“…Deal!” Laura giggles, before giving me a quick cuddle and kissing me on my cheek- which leaves behind a lipstick mark that’s very noticeable as I get into mum’s car!

“Hi Ashley!” Bryony and Cassie both squeak from their perches on the car’s back seat.

“Hi girls!” I reply. “Did you have fun with your friends?”

“Not as much fun as you had, Mr. Lipstick!” Bryony smugly replies, and I panic for a moment, wondering if any lipstick was left on my mouth, before realising that Bryony’s referring to the mark Laura just left on my cheek.

“Was it Laura who kissed you, Ashley?” Cassie asks.

“Well Ashley doesn’t have any other girlfriends,” Bryony retorts before I have a chance to respond.

“Laura is so pretty…” Cassie says, once again ignoring Bryony’s taunting.

“Sometimes I wish I had a big sister like Laura,” Bryony muses. “It’s not easy, being the oldest girl…” I bite my lip as I exchange a knowing glance with mum.

“I’m happy,” Cassie says, “because I have an older sister AND an older brother, AND a younger sister AND a younger brother!” My bite on my lip grows stronger as Cassie continues her enthusiastic babbling all the way home- despite what she just said, I know my sister well enough to know that if she was told she had two older sisters instead of an older sister and an older brother, she’d be just as happy as she is now.

As I walk through my house’s front door and am confronted by my dad’s disapproving gaze, I realise that it’s a shame the same thing can’t be said of all my relatives…

After the traditional late-night Skype with the girls- with a short denim skirt around my legs, instead of my jeans- I head to bed, waking up the following morning with a sense of utter dread, a sense that’s not helped as I comb my hair back and pull on a smart shirt and a pair of smart trousers.

“Everyone ready?” Dad- who is equally smartly dressed- asks as I head down the stairs.

“Ready!” Cassie squeaks as she excitedly dances around in her fancy pink party dress.

“Try to smile, Bryony,” mum admonishes the ten year old girl, whose party dress is considerably less fancy than Cassie’s. “We won’t stay for more than a couple of hours.”

“I know,” Bryony sighs.

“And there’ll be plenty of cousins there for you to play with!” Dad laughs. “Same goes for you, Ash. You remember your cousins James and Nick, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile on my face as I try to remember my second cousins.

Nick is the same age as me, is obsessed with football and shares my dad’s extremely narrow view about what constitutes a ‘real man’. James is another two years older than Nick, and is also a black belt at judo, has represented England in tournaments (he’s being tipped to compete at the Tokyo Olympics) and isn’t shy about demonstrating his skills on his younger brother… Or any of his younger cousins. Any of his MALE younger cousins, anyway- he wouldn’t dare touch any of my sisters. Or, for that matter, his younger sister Zara (Nick’s twin), whose existence dad conveniently forgot about.

Sure enough, when we arrive at my great-grandparents’ house, the three teenagers are already there- and before I can exchange a single word with Zara, I’m all but literally dragged away by James and Nick- and before we sit down, I can already feel my brain numbing from Nick’s incessant chatter.

“…No way Leicester will even win a single game in the Champion’s League group stage,” Nick insists. “Hell, I’ll be surprised if they even score any goals. Vardy is overrated, he’s never played in Europe, trust me, they’ll bomb.”

“Vardy is not overrated!” James snorts. “His England games have proved that, right Ash?”

“Umm… Yeah, I guess,” I say, trying to hide the fact that I didn’t watch a single game of the recent European Championships.

“Oh, what?” Nick snorts. “Trust me, Leicester will be lucky if they even stay up this season!”

“You’re only saying that as you’re a Spurs fan!” James retorts, before feigning an attack toward his brother, which makes Nick flinch and James nearly laugh his head off.

“Better that than a QPR fan!” Nick laughs, giving me a playful shove.

“Better that than a fucking ballet dancer!” James snorts, feigning an attack toward me that I don’t dodge in time, leading to me groaning in pain as the larger boy pins my shoulder to the ground.

“Hey!” An adult- presumably the boys’ father- half-laughs, half-yells at James. “Leave Ash alone!” James laughs as he lets me up, his laughter only increasing in volume as I straighten my clothes.

“Seriously, Ash,” James snorts. “Why DO you dance? And don’t say it’s to get girls, as there are better ways of doing that than prancing around like a poof!”

“I enjoy it,” I shrug. “It keeps me fit, and yes, it IS a good way to get girls.”

“Even though all of these supposed ‘girls’ aren’t actually girls!” Nick laughs. “Seriously, why do they still let that Laura PERSON prance around your school in a skirt?”

“If she wants to be a girl, I don’t see why she shouldn’t be,” I shrug. God knows what your reaction would be if you found out I was supposedly going out with her… I think to myself.

“Umm, well A- she has a dick,” James snorts. “And B- and I can’t make this any clearer- SHE HAS A DICK.”

“People live their life as a different gender all the time,” I retort.

“Why are you sticking up for it?” Nick sneers. “You’re not gonna suddenly go queer, are you?”

“Well- no,” I mumble, suddenly realising just how outnumbered I am. “Just, you know, playing devil’s advocate…”

“You know,” James laughs with a cruel smile on his face, “all the people at my school called ‘Ashley’ are girls…”

“Oh come on,” I plead. “I didn’t name myself, did I?”

“Everybody!” Grandpa Alan announces, silencing the crowd and thankfully bringing an end to my ‘interrogation’. “We’re all here right now because eighty years ago today, a child was born, who would grow up to become everybody’s favourite old fart!” I giggle as great-grandpa Greg- the birthday ‘boy’- gives Grandpa Alan a playful whack with his walking stick. “Dad, for the last 57 years, it has been a privilege to be your son, and I know everyone in this room feels the same way. Happy birthday dad!”

“Happy birthday!” Everyone cheers, myself included. I take the opportunity provided by the toast to separate myself from James and Nick’s company, quickly seeking out my cousin Zara, but before I can speak to her, I find myself again being dragged away, this time by Grandpa Alan.

“Come on, Ash,” Grandpa Alan says with a much less jovial voice than when he toasted great-grandpa Greg. “Your great-grandfather wants photos with you and your cousins. He wants a photo of his great-grandsons first, and like it or not, that includes you.” I grimace as grandpa Alan lines me up alongside James, Nick and my other male second cousins, whilst great-grandpa Greg cradles Eddy in his arms.

After I came out- again- to my parents, the next natural step was to come out to the rest of my family. My grandparents were next on the list… And whilst they didn’t exactly take it well, it wasn’t the total disaster I was expecting. They listened to what I had to say, took it all onboard and asked what would ultimately happen to me.

That question was, of course, answered by dad, who assured them that nothing was going to happen to me, that I would grow up as a boy and eventually live my life as a man, and that I’m only going through a ‘phase’. My grandparents openly accepted this explanation, but even I could tell they weren’t 100% convinced. They all either knew Laura or knew of her, and knew that an urge such as mine doesn’t simply vanish- if anything, it gets stronger the older you get. I almost asked if I could go and live with my grandparents, as a girl, but I knew that wasn’t an option- I’d have had to move schools, moving away from my friends- who are a very large part of my wanting to be a girl in the first place- and dad would still likely forbid me from seeing any of my sisters until he deemed that they were ready for the information, and knowing dad, that wouldn’t be until they turn sixteen.

As I pose with my sisters and female cousins for the next photo with my great-grandfather, I realise just how great a sacrifice that would be. Ten years without seeing Cassie’s smiling face or hearing her happy laugh? That’d be almost as painful as ten years without being a girl.

“Okay,” Grandpa Alan says as he flicks through photos on his digital camera. “Any more photos and I’ll fill the whole internet, heh. Yes, kids, that means you can go and have fun again.” I force yet another fake smile onto my face as I’m once again dragged off by James and Nick for another hour of football talk and ambushes, before mum and dad finally, mercifully announce that we’re going home. I barely have time to say a quick ‘bye’ to my cousins, safe in the knowledge that it could be months, if not years before I see them again, before getting into the back seat of our people carrier and breathing a long sigh of relief.

“Did you all have fun with your cousins today?” Dad asks once we’re all in the car.

“Yes!” Cassie cheers. “Zara is so beautiful! Did you know that she’s on her school’s swimming team?”

“That whole side of the family’s sport mad,” dad says. “Zara’s brothers are both big into their sport, aren’t they, Ash?”

“Huh?” I say. “Umm, yeah, I guess…”

“Why don’t you do any sports at school, Ash?” Bryony asks. Thanks, sis… I think to myself as I grimace.

“Well, um,” I reply. “I’m too busy most of the time, what with, you know, dancing and acting…”

“But they’re girl things,” Bryony says, making my internal scream get louder and louder.

“She’s got a point, Ash,” dad says, causing me to bite my lip in frustration.

“No she doesn’t,” mum instantly retorts, easing my stress. “Bryony, there’s nothing wrong with a boy who wants to dance and act instead of playing sports, and at the same time, there’s nothing wrong with a girl who wants to play a ‘boy’s sport’ like football.”

“Huh,” Bryony muses. “It’s just that Zara said that boys who dance instead of playing sports aren’t really boys at all…” Yeah, if only it were that easy, I think to myself.

“Well she’s wrong,” mum says confidently, silencing my sister.

“Well I think boys who dance and act are great!” Cassie cheers, making me smile once again. Why is it that the younger kids are, the more understanding they are, but as they get older, like James, Nick and now- much to my dismay- Bryony, they turn into closed-minded idiots?

Fortunately, when I arrive home and switch on my tablet computer, I’m reminded that some teenagers are open-minded and friendly- and six of them are engaged in a Skype call that I eagerly join.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak in my most feminine voice to the webcam feeds on my screen.

“Hey Ashley!” The girls all reply.

“How was the big family reunion?” Laura asks.

“Ugh,” I spit, making the girls all giggle and sigh.

“That bad, huh?” Priya asks.

“It’s my mum’s side of the family,” I explain, “but they’re all like my dad, especially my cousins.”

“That really sucks,” Harriet sighs. “Why do people feel the need to comment on every damned thing, like, try to force everyone to think the way they do…”

“People like that should be in prison,” Laura spits, and knowing what she went through at the hands of her father- who is in prison as a consequence of his actions- it’s hard to argue. “You know Ash, a year ago we’d all be saying ‘tell your parents’ like that would magically make it all better… Some advice that turned out to be.”

“No, I’m still glad I did tell them,” I say. “If I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be spending the whole of tomorrow wearing a cute dress round at Harriet’s house, heh.”

“Or the whole of a day last week wearing a miniskirt and platform sandals!” Megan reminds me.

“Or spent a morning last week wearing a girl’s one-piece to the local pool!” Suri giggles, making me remember the truly nerve-wracking experience as the girls accompanied me into the changing rooms and ‘shielded’ myself and Laura as we changed into and out of our swimsuits. Fortunately, as it was early morning, the pool was relatively empty, but there were still enough people around to make me worry that I’d be ‘found out’ at any moment.

“So yeah,” I giggle. “I’m happier now than I was this time last year… Still not really where I want to be, though.”

“You’ll get there,” Laura confidently says. “Once you get your diagnosis, they’ll be forced to treat you as the girl you really are.”

“In theory, anyway,” I sigh. “Come on… Talk about something girly, please! I need cheering up!”

“Cheerful and girly it is!” Suri giggles, before launching into a speech about one of her new skirts that just makes my stresses melt away.

Even though I’m still dressed in my smart clothes, when I immerse myself in girl chat like I’m doing now, it’s almost like I’m having an out of body experience- or rather, out of my boy’s body and into that of a girl. Laura’s often spoken of the occasions early in her transition when she was able to forget that she’d ever been a boy, and how it was those occasions that convinced her that her decision to transition was 100% the right one. I’ve been experiencing those ‘moments’ very frequently over the last few months, with each subsequent moment last longer than the previous one. If only I could have the body that matched my mind…

I opt for an early night, wanting to save my energy ahead of tomorrow, and as I dress in my boy’s pyjamas, I try my hardest to have another ‘out of body experience’ and imagine that I’m dressed in one of the loose nightdresses that my friends will inevitably be wearing. However, no matter what ‘technique’ I try, nothing works- and when I wake up in the morning to find a sticky patch on the front of my pyjamas, it just hammers home even harder the fact that I am not a girl. Well, not yet, anyway…

After breakfast, I head upstairs to change into a plain pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. The stress this normally causes me is absent today, though, as these ugly boy’s clothes do a good job of disguising the lace-trimmed girl’s vest and panties I’m wearing underneath, and within fifteen minutes of arriving at Harriet’s house, my jeans and t-shirt have been exchanged for a loose, knee-length summer dress. After the girls apply my make-up (which, as ever, they take great delight in doing), all traces of ‘boy Ashley’ are gone (for now, anyway), and I can finally start being the real me.

“The magnificent seven ballerinas!” Harriet cheers, prompting all of us to pull an elegant, girlish pose. “And as it’s my house, today there will be NO boys, and no talk of anything boyish either!”

“Suits me jussssssst fine!” I say, prompting a mass giggle.

“God, I can’t believe a week today, we’ll be back at school,” Nicole sighs.

“I can’t believe that a year today, I’ll have finished school forever,” Priya laughs.

“Do you know yet what you’ll be doing at college?” Megan asks the fifteen year old girl.

“Heh, I knew when I was eight,” Priya sighs. “Or at least I was told when I was eight. Gonna be an accountant, or a banker, or something to do with economics…”

“Ugh, WHY don’t you just tell daddy that you don’t want to work with money?” Suriya moans, clearly frustrated with her sister.

“Because then he’ll ask me what I DO want to do,” Priya sighs.

“He might help you, assist you in deciding what you want to do,” Laura whispers.

“Yeah,” Suri says. “The first step is to talk, to get the truth out there. Ask Ashley, Laura or Harriet if you don’t believe me!”

“Absolutely,” Harriet says with a smug, defiant smile. “Gay and proud!”

“Girl and proud!” I cheer, with Laura quickly echoing me.

“’Not accountant and proud’ doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Priya says.

“It does to you,” Harriet shrugs. “And if- no, WHEN you tell your dad, we’ll all be there for you, like you were for me, Ash, and Laura, right?”

“Of course!” The five of us all giggle.

“…Kinda pointless now that I’m in the second year of my GCSEs,” Priya sighs. “…But I really appreciate the gesture.”

“Trust me,” Harriet says softly. “It’ll be a HUGE weight off your shoulders.” I smile as Harriet speaks- if it wasn’t for her courage in coming out to her parents (especially her dad, who might be even worse than mine), I’d never have had the courage to come out myself, and just like I feel so much ‘freer’ since coming out, Harriet’s a completely changed person as well.

As I’m a year younger than the other girls (and 2 years younger than Priya), I wasn’t around during Laura & co’s first year at secondary school, but from what I understand, Laura’s relationship with Harriet was difficult to say the least. Harriet was living with her deeply transphobic and homophobic father, who apparently coerced her into bullying Laura and her friends out of fear of reprisals at home if she didn’t. Eventually, Harriet found the strength to stand up to her father, and now lives full-time with her mother, barely having any contact with her father. Even after this change, though, Harriet would often be reserved, sometimes timid- and looking back, it’s easy to see why.

Now, however, Harriet is loud, proud and assertive, and doesn’t care who knows that she’s gay. Obviously, this earned her some teasing at school- unfair teasing, of course, but as I know all too well, that’s just the way of the world- but it was quickly made clear that anyone bullying Harriet for being gay would be punished just as severely as anyone who bullied Laura for being trans. Harriet is still currently single, unfortunately- but she at least doesn’t have the rest of us constantly trying to set her up with any boys we know she’ll immediately reject! Laura even offered to ‘share’ me with Harriet- but obviously, only when I’m ‘girl Ashley’- and even though I said I’d be okay with this, Harriet declined, insisting that she’ll be able to find the girl of her dreams herself.

“So, Ash,” Megan asks, stopping my attention from wandering further. “What are you doing for your GCSEs next year?”

“Umm… Not 100% sure yet,” I say. “Almost definitely drama and English lit, probably history and geography. Definitely NOT PE!”

“Good girl!” Harriet giggles, making me smile and blush at the use of the word ‘girl’. “Though if your PE lessons consisted of wearing a tennis dress or a stretchy gymnastics leotard?”

“…Might be tempted,” I say, prompting yet another mass giggle.

“Aah, wish I’d brought some of my old leos along now,” Laura sighs. “Mum’s really furious ‘cause I grew out of all my old ones last year so I need more… Not that any of my old ones would fit Ash, hehe!”

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “I’ve got plenty of my own anyway!”

“It’s so cool that your mum does that for you,” Nicole sighs. “And she should look at it this way- when you start wearing only girl’s clothes and you grow out of them, you can hand them down to your sisters!”

“Doesn’t your sister start secondary school this year?” Megan asks me, to which I shake my head.

“Next September,” I say. “Same as Nicole’s sister.”

“They’ve already got a little ‘gang’ going at their ballet class,” Nicole giggles. “It’s so cute…”

“Aww, wouldn’t it be so cute if they could, you know, help a girl like Ash or Laura?” Suri asks. “I mean, you know, be their ‘posse’ like we are…”

“Assuming dad doesn’t explode at the thought of Bryony learning that transgendered people exist,” I spit.

“Oh- Bryony’s even more mature than you are!” Suri snorts. “You could come out to her tomorrow and she’d barely bat an eyelid.”

“She wouldn’t, no,” I say. “Dad would probably ship me off to a military school or something…”

“Well then the six of us would just have to rescue you, wouldn’t we?” Harriet asks, making me smile and blush yet again.

“You know,” I say, “I really, really treasure this time we have together. If it wasn’t for the six of you… God knows where, who or even what I’d be right now. Frustrated out of my skull probably, heh.”

“Seems to me that the more ‘girl time’ you have the better!” Nicole giggles.

“You really have NO idea,” I say. “Well, apart from you, Laura.”

“Heh,” Laura giggles as her own cheeks redden. “You know, Ash, sometimes you make me feel really guilty. I- um, I don’t mean that in a bad way, I’m not blaming you, but-“

“I get it,” I whisper, leading to an awkward silence.

“Mum!” Harriet suddenly yells, startling the rest of us. “Can we have a sleepover tonight? All seven of us?”

“Se- seven?” I ask. “Are you sure-“

“Of course,” Harriet’s mother replies before I have a chance to finish my question. “As long as it’s okay with your friends’ parents. ALL of their parents.” No prizes for guessing what- and who- she’s referring to there, I think to myself. Before I have the chance to speak again, though, all of the other girls besides Harriet have taken out their phones and dialled their parents’ numbers.

“Go on,” Harriet urges me with a cheeky smile. “Your mum should be home, shouldn’t she?”

“Umm, yeah,” I say, taking my phone out of my dress’s pocket and dialling my home number. However, when the line is answered, it’s not my mum on the other end, but my father, which instantly puts a grimace on my face.

“Hello?” Dad asks.

“Hi dad,” I say, trying to make my voice as androgynous as possible. “I’m, um, I’m at Harriet’s today…”

“Yes, I know what you’re doing today,” dad sighs. “What do you want, Ash?”

“Well, umm…” I stammer. “Can- can I talk to mum, please?”

“Whatever it is you need, you can ask me,” dad says. Yeah, right… I think to myself.

“Umm… Harriet’s having a sleepover,” I say.

“And you need me to come and pick you up,” dad assumes. “Sure, I can be there in half an hour?”

“Umm, actually…” I say, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Harriet’s- Harriet’s asked me to stay for the sleepover too. Her mum says it’s okay-“

“Ash- no, just no,” dad sighs. “You can’t stay for the sleepover and you know perfectly well why you can’t!”

“But- but Harriet’s mum says it’s okay,” I plead.

“So does mine,” Laura interjects.

“And our dad too,” Priya says.

“My mum’s okay with it,” Megan says.

“So’s my dad,” Nicole says.

“…That’s everyone else’s parents,” I say expectantly.

“Well YOUR parent is saying no,” dad says firmly, anger creeping into his voice. “Get changed back into your normal clothes, Ash, I’m coming to pick you up.” I blink back tears as the call ends, and my friends immediately surround me, giving me a tight hug.

“That really, really sucks,” Harriet sighs.

“No offence, Ash,” Nicole says, “I mean, I know he’s your dad, but- what an arsehole! Especially after our parents gave it the go-ahead!”

“I bet if you were sixteen and he thought you were having sex with all of us, he’d be okay with it,” Suri spits.

“Probably,” I sigh. “I doubt my mum would…” My voice trails off as a light bulb switches on in my mind. With my friends looking on in confusion, I take my phone back out of my pocket and dial a different number- the number for my mum’s mobile phone, which she answers after the second ring.

“Hello Ash!” Mum says cheerfully. “Are you having fun at Harriet’s?”

“I am, yes,” I laugh. “Mum, umm…”

“Is this about what you were talking to your father about?” Mum asks, making my face fall.

“Yes…” I sigh. “All the other girls’ parents are okay with it-“

“I’ll talk to your father,” mum says. “Those six girls are the best friends you ever had, and if their parents are okay with you staying over, then I’m okay with it too.”

“R-really?” I ask, my hands shaking with excitement. “But- but dad-“

“I said I’ll speak to him,” mum laughs. “Don’t worry about him, Ashley. You just have fun with your friends. I’ll be by to pick you up tomorrow morning. Will you be able to borrow a nightie from one of the girls?”

“Umm… I’m kinda gonna need a nightie,” I say to the other girls, all of whom raise their hands.

“I’ll get mum to bring a spare one for you!” Laura giggles. “This is gonna be so AWESOME!”

“Okay,” I laugh. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, mum.”

“I’ll see you then,” mum says, before ending the call.

“This is so cool!” Harriet squeaks as she gives me a tight hug. “All seven of us for the first time ever!”

“First time of many!” Suri giggles happily. “Well, until uni, anyway…”

“Just means we’ll have to pack as much as we can into the time we have!” Priya laughs.

“And first things first,” Harriet says, grabbing my hand, “let’s get some colour on MISS Moore’s fingernails!” I giggle and squeak with excitement as Harriet and the other girls drag me to her dressing table, where all ten of my nails are coated with a metallic pink colour that makes my heart flutter every time I catch sight of them. The other girls, of course, all paint their nails as well- Laura and Nicole paint theirs a glamorous red colour, Priya, Suriya and Megan all go for a glossy black colour, whilst Harriet paints her nails in a shocking green!

After the manicure, we spend the rest of the evening gossiping, listening to music, dancing (including yet more pre-pointe exercises for me) and playing with make-up- all things that make me happier with every passing second. As the evening turns into night, I feel occasional twinges of panic that my dad will show up at any second to drag me away from this feminine paradise I’ve found myself in, but the later it gets, the more I realise it’s not going to happen, and by the time I’ve changed into Laura’s plain yellow nightdress and climbed into Harriet’s sleeping bag, I feel completely relaxed, totally at ease with being just another one of the girls.

When I wake up the following morning, I have a moment of panic as I find myself in an unfamiliar room, before the sight of my pretty pink fingernails remind me of where- and more importantly, who- I am. A second moment of panic washes over me as I feel my panties bunch up underneath my nightdress, as recent nights have seen more than one 'accident', though as I feel the front of panties, I'm surprised- not to mention relieved- to find them bone dry. I'm not aroused from being where, what and who I am- I'm not even excited. I feel... Comfortable. Like this is exactly who I'm meant to be.

After a quick breakfast with the other six girls, I head back to Harriet's room, where I sit down in front of her dresser with a heavy sigh.

“This is so stupid,” Laura complains as she helps me remove my make-up and nail polish. “Your parents know about the real you, so what if you go home wearing nail polish?”

“If only,” I sigh. “Dad would go berserk- huh, he’s probably going to go berserk anyway. It’s so frustrating, he’s constantly watching me, if I’m feminine in any way he has a go at me, and if I’m feminine around my sisters…”

“Ugh,” Laura spits. “Sounds almost as bad as my dad…”

“I wouldn’t go THAT far,” I say. “Hopefully when I get my diagnosis, it’ll give him an attitude adjustment.”

“God knows he needs it,” Laura sighs as the last of my make-up is removed and I pull my jeans and t-shirt back on. “I’ll see you tonight at ballet, okay?”

“Sure,” I say, holding out my arm for Laura to give her traditional cuddle.

“Ehh…” Laura half-grimaces, half-giggles. “Kinda hard to cuddle that arm when I just saw you slide a bra strap down it, hehe! Besides, you don’t need an ‘excuse’ to hang out with us, not now that George and Megan are going out, you can just say you’re hanging out with us through him.”

“…Do you just want a REAL boyfriend?” I tease, making Laura stick her tongue out at me.

“Maybe,” the blonde-haired girl shrugs, before giggling and giving me a gentle, friendly hug. “Come on, your mum’s here.” I smile sadly as I follow Laura downstairs to where mum is waiting in her car, and after dropping off my now ex-fake-girlfriend, we head home- where, as I dreaded, dad is waiting with a look of pure fury on his face.

“You know,” dad snarls, “When I said you couldn’t stay overnight at Harriet’s, I DIDN’T mean ‘call mum to get her permission’!”

“Where is the problem?” I plead. “No one was hurt, I had fun-“

“Don’t. Talk. Back to me!” Dad replies, barely keeping his voice below a shout.

“Andrew,” mum says calmly. “No one was hurt by this. I called all of Ashley’s friend’s parents and they were fine with Ashley attending the sleepover as a girl.” I briefly look around the living room for any trace of my sisters, but unsurprisingly, they’re nowhere to be seen. I doubt mum would speak so openly about the ‘real me’ if they were in the room…

“Well I’m not!” Dad growls.

“Andrew,” mum says in a soothing voice. “You need to accept the fact that Ashley may very well have gender dysphoria. If Ashley is diagnosed… We’ll have to let her live as a girl.”

“You’re acting like HE’s already got the diagnosis!” Dad yells, and my stomach begins to knot as my parents’ argument intensifies. “It’s not normal for thirteen year old boys to turn around and say ‘I want to be a girl’!”

“You heard what Doctor Phillips said when we talked to her in May,” mum retorts. “Just because it isn’t normal doesn’t mean it’s necessarily wrong!”

“And if- IF- Ashley gets the diagnosis,” dad says, “what are we supposed to tell his sisters?”

“We’ve been over this,” mum sighs. “We sit them down and explain it to them calmly and rationally. Frankly, Andrew, I reckon they’ll handle Ashley’s change a lot better and with a lot more maturity than you will!”

“Ashley- go to your room,” dad growls. I meekly nod and head upstairs as the muffled sounds of the argument continue underneath me. Normally, when I’m alone like this, I’d take the opportunity to return to being my girl self, but following my marathon session over the last 24 hours, I’m not feeling the ‘urge’ as badly- and it’s a good thing too, as after just ten minutes, I hear a quiet knock come from my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I sigh, before immediately perking up at the sight of my second youngest sister.

“Ashley…” Cassie moans as she climbs up onto my bed. “Are mum and dad arguing again?”

“They’re just having a little disagreement,” I say, giving the tiny girl a gentle cuddle.

“Did- did I do something wrong?” Cassie sniffles.

“No, of course you didn’t!” I say, turning the cuddle into a full-fledged hug. “It- it’s me that done something wrong.”

“How can you do anything wrong?” Cassie asks. “You’re a superhero!” I giggle for the first time since returning home, bringing the beautiful smile back to my sister’s face.

“I’m hardly a superhero,” I laugh.

“You are!” Cassie insists. “You’re a superhero, and Laura’s a girl superhero!”

“Ah,” I grimace. “Umm… Laura and I, we- we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.”

“Are you fighting as well?” Cassie asks, her face suddenly falling.

“No, no, we’re still friends,” I say.

“Then you’re also superheroes!” Cassie cheers.

“I guess,” I laugh. “Cassie… Do- do you know what the, um, the word ‘transgender’ means?”

“Trans- trans-“ Cassie stammers, before shaking her head.

“…Never mind,” I say, thinking better than to try to explain the word to the five year old girl and no doubt make dad even angrier.

“I- I think they’ve stopping arguing,” Cassie mumbles as the living room quietens down. “Ashley… Can you come down with me, please?”

“Of course,” I say, taking my sister’s hand and leading her down the stairs, where the tiny girl giggles happily and gives dad a long, tight hug.”

“Easy, easy!” Dad laughs, before fixing me with a tired stare- a stare that’s thankfully devoid of his earlier anger, but still lacking any of the love he used to have for me. Silently, mum head toward the kitchen, and I take her cue and follow her, letting out a long, pained moan as I sit down next to her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” mum whispers as she gives me a hug and I let tears freely flow from my eyes.

“I- I’m sorry I made you argue,” I sniffle.

“No you didn’t make us argue!” Mum insists. “Don’t you ever dare be sorry for being who you want to be. And being a girl- that is truly what you want to be, isn’t it?”

“I’m more and more sure of it every day,” I say. “I’ve never been happier than I was last night.”

“You WILL get that diagnosis, Ashley,” mum says, giving me another very welcome hug. “In the meantime, you just have to give your dad a little time. He WILL come round and accept you as his daughter. I won’t give him any other choice!”

“In my dreams,” I moan.

“He’s just being a little stubborn, that’s all,” mum says.

“A little!?” I retort, making mum laugh.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” mum says. “He always thought that you and he would be a true team, a real father and son unit like he was with his dad… He’s going to have to learn that what you want comes first. And he WILL learn that.”

“He still has a point about Bryony, Cassie and Dorothy, though,” I say.

“Only in that we need to approach THAT carefully,” mum says. “He seems to think that it’ll be impossible to make them understand. It won’t. They’ll love their big sister just as much as their big brother.”

“But- but what if I don’t get the diagnosis?” I ask.

“Stop focussing on the worst case scenario,” mum says. “Any idiot can see what makes you happiest. To a trained doctor, it’ll be blindingly obvious.”

“Well… Okay,” I sigh.

“Now go on,” mum laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, you’ve got ballet this evening!” I smile as I head back upstairs to my room, avoiding dad’s gaze, and spend the rest of the afternoon browsing the internet or chatting with my friends on Facebook, before the time comes to change into my tight white t-shirt and black leggings.

As always, when I arrive at the dance studio, I feel a twinge of envy as I see all the girls arriving in their soft pink tights and their tight black leotards, though as with every lesson I’ve had since my birthday, mum is on hand to make me feel better.

“That’ll be you in a few months,” mum whispers, before heading home and leaving me in the company of my friends, who all whisper the same thing to me as they attach their ballet slippers to their feet and tie their hair into tight buns. The girls have been giving me the same encouragement for as long as I can remember, though coming from mum, it somehow means so much more.

The lesson goes smoothly, as always. All the girls look so elegant as they dance en pointe, especially Laura and Suriya, who have secured solo roles in one of the class’s regular productions, and will soon be dancing on stage wearing a big, extravagant tutu and thick stage make-up. I’ll be dancing on stage too, performing a pas de deux with one of the other girls in the class (an older girl named Brooke), but my costume will be considerably less beautiful than the girls’. That doesn’t stop me from enjoying the additional tuition Mademoiselle Renou gives me after the lesson, though, especially the pre-pointe exercises. Miss Fullerton and Mademoiselle Renou have even hinted that they may choreograph a male pointe solo for me to perform- though even this won’t be the same as wearing a tutu like the other girls.

“You are SO talented,” Laura says, giving me a gentle hug as we leave the studio. “I can’t wait to see you in a tutu!”

“Yeah,” Suriya laughs. “I really hope that Mademoiselle Renou or Miss Fullerton can make a performance for all seven of us GIRLS to do!”

“That can be arranged,” Miss Fullerton giggles as she passes us en route to her office. “Get practising on those exercises, Ash… One way or another I WILL get you into pointe shoes within the next six months!”

“Can do,” I laugh, before heading out to my lift home.

“Hi Sean,” Laura says as she climbs into her mother’s boyfriend’s car. “Hi Lily!” Laura giggles as the young girl- Sean’s daughter- happily waves at her.

“Thank you for the lift home, Mr. Ruddock,” I say to the middle-aged man.

“You’re welcome, Ash!” Mr. Ruddock cheerfully replies. “Did you two enjoy your dance lesson?”

“It was AWESOME as always,” Laura laughs. “Especially as we’re really getting into practice for the show.”

“Ah,” Mr. Ruddock laughs. “Should’ve guessed you’d really only be interested in the tutus!”

“Not JUST the tutu,” Laura retorts. “There’s also the tights, the pointe shoes, the tiara, the make-up…”

“Heh, bet you never thought you’d get to wear ANY of that when you were Lily’s age!” Mr. Ruddock says, bringing a quizzical expression to my face.

“Umm…” I say.

“Laura used to be a boy called ‘Leon’,” Lily explains. “Didn’t you know that?”

“Umm, I did,” I say. “I’m just kinda surprised you knew that, that’s all… No offence, but- but how old-“

“Lily’s nine,” Mr. Ruddock says. “That’s more than old enough to understand that some people are simply born the wrong gender, and choose to live their lives as the opposite gender.”

“Well- okay, I guess…” I say. I know someone who’d disagree with you… I think to myself.

“I also know that some people aren’t allowed to live their lives that way,” Lily says. “Don’t worry, Ashley, you’ll get to be a girl soon. I actually think you’d make a beautiful girl, just like Laura.” My jaw drops as I’m paid one of the best compliments of my life from probably the most unexpected source.

“Umm…” I mumble. “…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” Lily says with a smug voice.

“Fancy that, Ash,” Laura giggles. “A nine year old girl’s more mature than a thirty-five year old man!”

“I don’t suppose you could have a word with my dad, could you?” I ask with a laugh.

“I’m probably not the best person to talk to there,” Mr. Ruddock says, “but if you really want me to I can have a word., I suppose.”

“Ehh… I’ll think about it,” I say as the car pulls up outside my house. “Thanks for the lift, Mr. Ruddock.”

“You’re very welcome, Ashley!” The grinning man says before pulling away.

As I enter my home, I see that dad’s deeply engrossed in his TV show, to the extent that he doesn’t even make eye contact with me as I walk past the living room en route to the stairs. How can a man who’s only known me for ten minutes seem more like a father to me than my own father?

After reaching my room, I strip off my dancewear, before opening one of my drawers and staring at its beautiful contents- more dancewear, but completely unlike the clothes I’d just stripped off. I smile happily as I stretch a pair of soft pink tights up my legs, before stepping into a shiny black tank leotard and tying a pair of shiny satin ballet slippers to my feet with ribbons. After applying a tiny amount of make-up- just some eyeliner and mascara- I pin my hair back, wrap a flimsy dance skirt around my waist and practise the same steps I’d practised mere minutes ago under the careful eye of Mademoiselle Renou.

Of course, my ‘lesson’ only lasts about minutes before I’m forced to strip off my beautiful dancewear, putting my tights in the wash and returning my leotard and skirt to my drawer, but even this short amount of time is enough to ease my stresses, especially as the fantasy of being able to wear it on a more regular basis is getting more real with every passing day.

And yet, as I wake up the following morning, I can’t help but feel the usual amount of misery and frustration as I pull on my usual jeans and t-shirt- a reminder that however closer I’m getting to fulfilling my dream, it’s still not yet within reach.

Even worse, today is the day mum’s set aside for getting our new school uniform, meaning that I get to go around the vast uniform store with Bryony and watch her try on skirts, blouses and cardigans for her final year of primary school, all the while remembering just how envious I was of the girls as I sat staring at them in my dull grey trousers- two pairs of which, in my size, also go into mum’s shopping bags, along with 5 white shirts with the buttons on the right-hand side. After our shopping trip, we head to a nearby McDonald’s for lunch- though I don’t feel particularly hungry.

“Miss Fullerton says the fast food isn’t good for you,” Bryony says as she picks away at her Happy Meal.

“Well, it’s not too bad for you as a treat every now and again,” mum says. “Aren’t you hungry either, Ashley?”

“Not really,” I say- and it’s obvious from mum’s smile that she knows exactly why I’m miserable. “You know, Laura hates McDonald’s…”

“I thought you weren’t going out with her anymore?” Bryony asks.

“I’m not,” I say. “We’re still friends though.”

“Why does she hate McDonald’s?” Bryony asks. “Is it because she thinks it’s not good for you either? Because she’s probably right.”

“No, it’s because of her dad…” I say, trailing off as I realise that I’m giving Bryony way more information than she needs to know. Then again, Lily probably knows about Laura and her history with her father, and she’s even younger than Bryony…

“What about her dad?” Bryony asks.

“Bryony…” I say, looking cautiously at mum before continuing. “Do you- do you know what the word ‘transgender’ means?” I look at mum again, expecting to be told off for my question, only for her to nod approvingly at both me and my sister.

“I think so,” Bryony says. “Is that where someone’s a boy, but thinks they’re a girl? Or they’re a girl, but think they’re a boy?”

“Ehh… Sort-of,” I say. “It’s where someone was born as a boy or a girl, but they choose to live their life as the opposite. Say, they were born a boy, but choose to live their life as a girl.”

“Huh, okay,” Bryony shrugs, making my jaw drop at her nonchalant reaction to the news that people live their lives as the opposite gender. “What does this have to do with Laura and her dad?”

“Laura…” I say hesitantly, fearing dad’s reaction when he finds out about this ‘chat’.

“Laura is transgendered,” mum says boldly. “When she was born, she was a boy called ‘Leon’, but at the start of secondary school, she started living as a girl.”

“Huh,” Bryony says. “Okay. Didn’t her dad like that, or something?”

“Umm, no,” I say.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” mum says, intervening. “What’s important is that Laura is now a girl, and always will be.”

“Okay,” Bryony shrugs.

“…And Ashley feels the same way,” mum says, nearly making me choke on my burger.

“Really?” Bryony asks, looking at me with confusion in her eyes. “Ashley, do you wish you were a girl?”

“Yes,” I say, my heart racing. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” Bryony asks, her question asked out of curiosity and not containing any judgemental overtones.

“Imagine if you were forced to live your life as a boy,” I explain. “Imagine if you were told you could never wear dresses, or make-up, or go to ballet, but you had to play rugby and football instead.”

“Ugh,” Bryony spits. “That sounds horrible.”

“It does,” I nod. “And that’s how I feel.”

“But you ARE a boy,” Bryony says, making me inwardly sigh- this will always, always be the one hurdle that some people can’t get over. Please, Bryony, be as smart as they say you are…

“But I don’t FEEL like a boy,” I say. “I don’t want to be a boy, and every second of every day, I wish I’d been born a girl. That’s why I only have girl friends, why I don’t play rugby or football.”

“Huh,” Bryony says. “Okay.”

“You- you understand what I’m explaining, right?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Bryony says. “You were born a boy, but you want to be a girl instead, just like Laura.”

“Yes,” mum says with a proud smile. “That’s exactly it.”

“So…” Bryony asks. “Why doesn’t Ashley start living as a girl?” It’s all I can do not to give my sister a big hug and dance around the restaurant as she asks the most important question of them all.

“Well,” mum says, hesitating herself for the first time in this conversation. “It’s- it’s not quite as simple as that, Bryony.”

“But why not?” Bryony asks. “Laura lives her life as a girl.” My smile grows wider as my sister protests, especially as mum doesn’t have an answer for her- an answer that doesn’t implicate our father, anyway.

“We have to see a doctor first,” I say. “If they give the say-so, then I can start taking a medicine that will slowly turn me into a proper girl. It’s the type of medicine that Laura takes.”

“Huh, okay,” Bryony says for what seems like the millionth time this meal.

“You- you wouldn’t miss me?” I ask. “I mean, if I changed into a girl…”

“Why would I miss you?” Bryony asks. “You’re not going anywhere, you’re just living differently.” I actually have to blink back tears as Bryony takes the news of my transgendered status completely in her stride.

“Bryony,” mum says softly, “I’m very proud of you for the way you reacted to your brother’s news. You behaved very maturely.”

“Thanks,” Bryony says with a smug smile on her face, as a knowing smile also creeps across our mother’s.

“You know,” mum says, “I don’t think we’re done shopping for school uniform JUST yet…”

I’m barely able to contain my excitement when I return home an hour later and immediately run up the stairs to my bedroom, where I carefully hang up my new uniform. And when I say ‘uniform’, I of course DON’T mean the trousers and shirts mum bought, but rather the knee-length pleated grey skirts, soft white blouses, girl’s blazer, thick grey tights and tiny black ballerina flats that mum bought during our second shopping trip. It’s all I can do not to strip off my clothes and pull on my uniform right now, but mum was quite clear that this uniform is only ever to be worn to and from school- especially as in years to come, it’ll be handed down to my sisters in the same way that my other clothes weren’t.

Later that evening, I beam with pride as I open my wardrobe to show Laura and Harriet the new clothing hidden within.

“Your. Mum. Is so. AWESOME!” Laura squeaks as she gently strokes the thick material of the skirt- even though she’s worn an identical skirt to school for the whole of the past three years.

“I never thought I’d be so excited to see a school uniform!” Harriet giggles, even though she’s been wearing said uniform for the last NINE years.

“Really?” I say, gesturing to the loose skirt and t-shirt I’m currently wearing. “More attention to the clothes I’m NOT wearing?”

“Oh- sorry, Ash!” Laura giggles. “It’s just, you know- there’s a very, very real chance you’ll be wearing this uniform, like, for real!”

“…I know what you mean,” I giggle as I join in the admiration of the skirt. “But that isn’t even the coolest thing to come out of today!”

“What could possibly be cooler than this?” Laura asks.

“Well…” I say with a coy smile as I open my bedroom door and Bryony walks in, looking understandably nervous to be surrounded by three teenaged girls.

“Oh, so cool!” Laura squeaks. “Hey, Bryony!”

“Hi, Laura,” my sister nervously says as she sits down on my bed next to me and my friends. “Hi Harriet.”

“Hi Bryony!” Harriet giggles in a sing-song voice. “So… How do you like your new BIG SISTER?”

“She's cool!” Bryony says. “It’s a bit weird, though, knowing that she used to be my brother.”

“And will have to be her brother again when she leaves this room,” I sigh. "But you're not confused, are you, Bryony?"

"Not really," Bryony shrugs. "Eventually Ashley will be just my sister."

"Exactly," Laura says with a smug grin.

"Are you looking forward to hanging out with your sister and the rest of us at secondary school next year, Bryony?" Harriet asks.

"Yeah," my sister says with a smile. "It'll be fun, especially all the clubs Ashley's told me about."

"Aww," Laura coos. "Looks like we've got another awesome dancer coming along!"

"Just like her SISTER!" Harriet giggles as she gives me a hug. As I take one more glance at my new, desired uniform, I'm filled with a sense of optimism, but I know I still have several obstacles to overcome.

Sure, I now have the pleated skirt and grey tights I've envied for two years- but it's still going to take time before I'm allowed to wear it. Sure, one of my sisters has accepted me as the girl I am, but there are still two who don't know about the real me. And sure, I have one parent who will do anything to ensure I'm happy as the girl I want to be... But there's still one who will oppose it at any cost.

It feels like I'm taking steps forward all the time- but my desired goal is still out of reach. The fact remains, though, that I AM taking steps forward. My pre-pointe lessons from Mademoiselle Renou, the sleepover and now the uniform are all bringing me closer to being the girl I long to be, even if it doesn't seem that way- I just have to have faith that eventually, I will arrive at that goal.

No matter what other obstacles people- such as my 'father'- might put in my way...