With every passing day, my face becomes more and more healed. By Wednesday, all of the bruising and swelling is gone.

I am up early, sitting in front of the mirror at my vanity. I look at the work that Sherri has done—I look like a girl. There are no two ways about it; it would be very difficult for me to pass as a guy, right now—even without the breasts. My nose is small—a true button nose—and slightly upturned. It is what most guys think of as ‘cute’. My mouth is…luscious—my plumped lips are begging to be kissed. My eyes are…alluring.

I shake my head and ask myself how I will ever go back—how I CAN ever go back? That is…if I decide to…

I finish getting ready and leave the house to meet up with Jenn for my ride.

No one at school seems to question me anymore on whether I am a girl, or not. I am sure there are still those that think I am weird—or an idiot—but they keep it to themselves. The one thing that HAS changed is that over the past three days, I have had as many younger guys approach me…quietly. They all tell me they are like me but afraid to say anything. They all want my advice.

Of course, I don’t really have any advice to give. This is not like I REALLY planned it—or even WANTED it for that matter. I just sort of fell into it. So, I told them all to come to the next LGBT meeting and we will help them the best that we can. I know I am just buying time, but I have to figure this out—think about it… The last thing I want to do is really mess up someone’s life with bogus ‘advice’. I make a mental note to talk to Jenn…

So, when she stops at the mall on the way home, I just smile. I had not known we were going shopping, but it is very clear when I see Mom’s car not far away in the parking lot, that this was a planned event. Strange as it may seem, I am excited to go looking for new clothes—smaller clothes than I have worn in years… And I am really excited that they are going to be girl’s clothes—I shake my head at myself and giggle.

I smile at Jenn and say, “Shopping? Really? I can’t wait!” Mom comes over and I hug her as I ask, “Can I get some shoes, too?”

We unload all of the bags into the cars and Mom takes us to a nice restaurant at the edge of the mall’s parking area.

Once we are seated and have ordered, I ask, “Can I ask you both something? I have a…problem…”

They both just nod and I take a deep breath and say, “Well, I have been approached by three young guys…that want my advice…on how to transition. I guess THEY really ARE transgendered—or at least believe they are. They want my help—and I don’t want to do the wrong thing…”

We are silent as our waitress brings out our drinks; then Mom says, “It is good that you are concerned that you might say something wrong—or steer them in the wrong direction. Only a professional can really help them with the foundation of their problem. What you CAN do, however, is be there for them—encourage them to make the right choice for THEMSELVES. It is really no different than in your case. The underlying reasons may be different—at least they WERE—but you had to make tough choices none-the-less; still do, for that matter.”

Jenn nods and speaks up, “And you had to face the consequences of making those choices. You have learned to weigh the good with the bad and then make your choice. You can help them with that…let them know that NOT making a choice is a choice in and of itself—and likely NOT in their best interest!”

I sigh and say, “Yeah…that is kind of what I was thinking, too… I just feel so…fraudulent…giving someone with REAL issues advice, like I have been there… I mean, I know am learning what it is like to be a girl…” I think of all the bags in the car and giggle, “…and I think I am really starting to like it… But, it is not like I have been living forever with this knowledge that I was born the wrong sex…”

The waitress brings our plates and leaves. Mom says, “Dee, you know that I will love you no matter which way you decide to end this odyssey of yours. You know that of your girlfriend and your other best friends, as well. You had to trust them—take that plunge. That took—and takes—courage. That is what you have to help these individuals with… I have every faith that you can do that. Hold their hand and cry with them when things go wrong—and laugh with them when they go right. You are a very caring person…use that empathy here!”

I don’t see any of the three guys—or girls, as the case may be—the rest of the week; the next LGBT meeting is not until next week. I am glad for the reprieve, but know it is only that—a reprieve. Next Tuesday will eventually come—and…hopefully…so will they…

When the last bell rings on Friday, I am thrilled. In a few hours, I will be able to go on another date with my gorgeous girlfriend—and not feel like an ugly duckling doing it. I barely notice the corset anymore, but, it is now cinched down another few inches and I am sporting a wonderful 22-inch waist in it. I have a whole new wardrobe—paltry compared to Vicki’s, sure, but plenty good enough for me.

I am day-dreaming in the car on the way home and Jenn gives me a hard time, “You know—it is not nice to not talk to your ride!”

I giggle and say, “I was just dreaming a bit about going out tonight. There was a time when I would have dreaded the thought of dressing up to go out—let alone dressing up as a girl. Now? All I can think about is what I am going to wear tonight to go out with Vicki. I want to look special—FEEL special!”

Jenn giggles and says, “You are such a girl, now! I think you should wear that new green dress. Green looks so good on you!”

A little over two hours later, Vicki finally is at the door. I am just barely done getting ready. I open the door and fall into her arms for a big kiss, then drag her inside and kiss her again.

She giggles and says, “It is great to see you, too! You look great!”

I smile and return the compliment, “Not as good as you! Before we go, can I ask a favor? I would like to make a quick stop at your Dad’s…I think I want to get my ears pierced again. I love the look on you!”

She looks at her watch and smiles. She nods and says, “Sure! We have plenty of time—but you know, if you get your pierced like mine—it hurts going through the cartilage…and that won’t heal back up once the holes are healed.”

I say, “I know. I still like the look and I know a bunch of guys that have multiple piercings, so I am OK with it.”

Twenty minutes later, we enter the ultra-clean tattoo and piercing parlor. Bill smiles when he sees us and gives us both a big hug. He says, “I just finished a really nice tattoo. Want to see a picture?” He shows us a picture of very feminine dragon that is climbing up the back of a woman—holding onto her shoulder with its cutely manicured claws. It is very big—but very nicely done.

I say, “Wow! That must have taken forever!”

He laughs and says, “Yeah—it took quite a while. So what brings you two here?”

I say, “I would like to get my ears pierced again… I would like something close to what Vicks has—triple lobe piercings and my cartilage here and here.” I point to the upper cartilage of my right ear and the inner on my left.

He smiles and says, “Sure. That will only take a couple of minutes. Come pick out the jewelry you want to use.”

I pick out the studs for my lobes and two small rings for the cartilage. Vicki was right—the cartilage piercings DID hurt; but, in my opinion, it was worth it. It looks AWESOME!

I want to pay Bill, but he won’t hear of it—so we both give him a big hug and are on our way.

As we pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, Vicki asks, “Dee—Gerry is becoming more and more a thing of the past. Are you sure this is what you want? It may be a good time to stop…”

I shake my head and say, “No. I will at least do the three months—I have come too far NOT to, now.” I stop and think and then say, “And, yes, I think you are right…Gerry IS becoming more and more a part of my past. I am not sure I can step back through the looking glass anymore…I may be trapped on this side forever. Not that that is such a bad thing…”

I smile and lean over and kiss her passionately. Then we fix our lipstick and walk into the restaurant.

Three hours and a movie later, we exit the elevator into her apartment. She says, “Why don’t you get into something more comfortable and I will open us up a bottle of wine.”

I smile and go into the bedroom. I open ‘my’ drawer and take out a silky nighty and get undressed—down to the corset, which has to stay on. I slip on the nighty and can’t help but think about the fact that this is the first time that I am putting this on here with real boobs. I look in the mirror and am still shocked by the cute Irish pixie looking back at me.

Vicki comes in with two glasses of her signature red and hands me one. We clink glasses and each take a sip, then she undresses and puts on her nighty. She comes over and gives me a deep, passionate kiss—then fondles my breasts. She looks at the bed, giggles, and says, “I would love to start ravishing you right now…but…I think we should enjoy the wine a bit, first!”

She pulls me into the living room and she starts sucking on my nipple a little between sips—it drives me crazy!

We finish the bottle of wine, she opens another…and leads me back into the bedroom…

I wake up to a mild headache and Vicki lying next to me, staring at my face. My tongue and the inside of my mouth feels like parched cotton… All I can manage is a hoarse whisper; almost a croak, “What?”

Vicki giggles and says, “I am just looking at my Princess. Those hormones must be taking effect if those moans and screams last night are any indication—you can barely talk, you screamed so loud last night! Come on—I think you need hydration… Orange juice will do you good!”

After breakfast, including three BIG glasses of juice, I clean my new piercings and take a shower. After I get dressed, Vicki insists on going shopping with me again. She buys me several new expensive outfits and then we go over to her parent’s house in the late afternoon. I still can’t get used to the size of the place—but at least I am not shocked this time…

Sherri hugs and kisses us both—Bill is still at work. Vicki pours us a glass of wine and we all sit in the parlor to chill out for a bit. Sherri smiles at me and says, “I love the new piercings, Dee. I think that it is time for some hair extensions, though. Don’t you agree? They would much easier to care for than that wig—and much more comfortable. Let me make an appointment for you for in the morning… No arguments, young lady!”

I sigh, but smile…it seems I am getting hair extensions…

The next morning, Vicki and I go to the spa. After a long massage, I get my hair colored a deep red and get long, below-shoulder-length extensions. When it is all said and done, my hair has loose waves and is a bit below my shoulder. It feels…wonderful. It seems they are not done, though. This time, I get serious nail extensions…in a hot pink that goes surprisingly well with my new red hair…

From there, we go back to Bill’s… I have no idea why…until we walk out an hour later…with Jenn and the squad…and all with matching belly-button piercings. I am beginning to feel a bit like a pin cushion…but a PRETTY pincushion, at least! I later find out that it was all Jenn’s big idea.

The six of us go to a restaurant and have a late lunch. We are definitely a gaggle of giggling girls having a good time. Vicki laughs and decides it would be a lot of fun to have a pajama party at her apartment. We split up to get our stuff and agree to meet back in two hours…at Vicki’s.

Vicki and I go back to her apartment and I hang up all of my things on ‘my’ side of the closet—I giggle at having a ‘my’ side. We then go to the store and get some supplies for the party and get back about ten minutes before the girls start arriving.

Vicki puts the white wine and beer on ice and opens a bottle of red to breathe. We all then get undressed and into our pajamas…short baby doll nighties that show off our new belly jewels.

Of course, this is my first experience with the age-old right of girly-girl pajama parties… Since, my nails are freshly done—and WAY longer than I am used to—they don’t mess with them… That doesn’t mean that the other girls can’t do each other’s nails—and I get to do some of them. After we are done with the nails…we start playing with each other’s makeup. These girls are as serious about that as their nails…and I learn how to do several different looks; from daytime to serious party-mode.

After that, we order several pizzas…and then we start on our hair… Of course, by now, we are all several sheets in the wind and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. I am having the time of my life!

Around three in the morning, we all begin drifting off. Vicki and I go to our room. The other girls split up between the two guest rooms. I know that these girls are not lesbians…but you would never know it from the noise coming from one of the guest rooms… Of course, Vicki and I add to that noise level…

Thanks to the fact that Vicks made me drink a ton of water before going to bed, I both was up every few minutes during the night to pee…but also have no headache when I wake up around noon. I am the first one up and shake my head at the mess in the apartment.

I start making a large batch of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits. I put on a big pot of coffee and, by then, the girls start showing up…the smell calling to them.

We all giggle through brunch…complete with mimosas…and soon, the girls leave. Vicks and I clean up the apartment and she takes me home.

Another weekend gone by…another couple of steps for me towards major girly-girlness.

I really do think the looking glass is cracked…

Our next GLBT meeting is all about the upcoming ball. ‘Ball’ is probably a bit overstated, but, it is going to be a fun dance, I think.

The three students that had approached me did show up—and it gives me an idea for the dance.

My idea for the event, the first of its kind for this school, is to have students and teachers that have not officially declared themselves TG switch roles for the dance—girls come as boys and vice versa. The idea is not new, but it should be fun anyway. For this event, the ‘switch’ has to be serious, though—no mocking the other sex.

My hope is that non-TG students will have an opportunity to experience the ‘other side’; some may even find out that they like the change. My bigger hope is that it will create a safe environment for non-declared TG students, like my three in attendance today, to ‘be themselves’ and maybe get them to open up to their true selves.

We have a fairly large budget—both from the school and from a grant given to us by the governor’s office for such events. We decide that we will go with a 70’s disco theme and start picking out what we will need to decorate the auditorium. The event is going to be in three weeks and we need to work quickly to get everything ordered and ready to go.

We, of course, ask for volunteers to help and Jenn and the squad all volunteer. They are already excited about figuring out what to wear as guys. Michelle and Gwen are also giggling about getting to dress up their boyfriends as girls. Samantha and Jenn currently don’t have boyfriends, but that does not curb their excitement in the discussion. They also volunteer to help ‘Amanda’, ‘Jenny’, and ‘Christy’—my three ‘new’ TG students dress up as girls.

Jenn is even still talking about it on the way home, “I think this is an awesome idea, Dee! Obviously, not everyone will take part—but it should be eye-opening for those that do. It also will be really nice for those that have come out, yet—maybe it will help them see that it is OK. I know it wasn’t your plan to be a role-model—but you are being a good one anyways! Amanda, Jenny, and Christy certainly think so!”

She giggles and we go to my room to finish our homework. As we walk up the stairs and I think about what she said, I hear another virtual crack form in the looking glass… It seems that soon there may be no way back through if I am not really careful…

I shrug and we open our French books to study…