My last breath

Dear Dakota!
Do not be sad that these are the last words you hear from me. I am an old man and it is the time I go to the next world. To be honest, I am looking forward to it, as I will once again be with your grandmother. This is part of the circle of life. I am now an old man, and it is time for the next generation to take charge. You are only 11 and your time will come. So, do not be sad I am gone to someplace I believe God has saved for me. Celebrate the Circle of life as I said!

This letter is my final wisdom and advice to you. I hope you accept it and appreciate it, not as me pointing my finger and telling you how things should be done, but simply as advice and best wishes from my heart.

I noticed that you get teased a lot because you are not a typical girl. You do not like dresses and frilly things. You do not like makeup or long hair. You do not like girl clothes or games. They call you a tomboy and the teasing makes you cry. You told me once that you felt like you should have been born a boy. You have been so afraid that you were different and you did not fit in. You often feel like a misfit or weird…

If you consider yourself more a boy then a girl, then be happy with that! Be proud of who you are and love yourself. Others may not accept this, but that is their problem and they are using their short life in a wrong way.

I was the only son of a successful businessman. My Dad did not know what having fun was. His idea of being happy was having a successful business and earning more money. Status was very important for him, and he wanted us to be the best family in town. It is actually strange that he got married to my mother, as she was an angel and had quite the opposite personality. She never had an evil thing to say about anyone. She was compassionate with those that were less off than we were. She was devoted and kind. I cannot say enough good things about her.

Everyone thought my dad was a snob and people thought my family was. This meant that mom had few friends and the same for me. There was one neighbour girl that was the same age as me. She was the only friend I had. The problem was that I was totally jealous of her. She had such nice clothes. They looked great and I loved the colours. Her toys were also exciting and her bedroom was a typical princess room.

I knew the difference between a boy and girl. I knew boys did not wear dresses and tights, or played with dolls or even want a princess bedroom. I knew that boy’s hair should be short, and we should play sports or play war. I thought life was so unfair and did not know why boys and girls should be treated differently.

One thing that gave me a bit of comfort was when people first saw me; they always asked if I was a boy or girl. Some even said that it was so strange to meet a tomboy. My hair was done like a pageboy and people thought I had an angelic face and quite a feminine one. I blushed and smiled every time some old woman thought I was a cute tomboy.

Dad, on the other hand, would get mad at me. He would tell me that I was a boy and not a tomboy. He could not understand why I would smile and feel proud at people asking if I was a girl. If he was very mad, he would ask me if I was one of those sissies or gay boys. I should be a man and not be such a Barbie doll. Every time he got mad or said these words, they were like he was stabbing me with a knife. I really wanted Dad to be proud of me, but I could not help the way I felt!

This girl who was my only friend knew how I felt. Her name was Oliva by the way. As we knew each other more and more, we also knew what was not said. In other words, she knew what was in my heart. It was as if Olivia knew what I was thinking. When we were 10, she suggested we play dress up. I was a bit confused as I never played this game before. So she threw a gown dress on the bed as well as panties and tights. The panties were easy to put on, and Olivia had to show me how to put the tights on. Then I put on a satin red gown dress.

I looked in the mirror and started crying. The feeling the clothes gave me was one reason. The tights were like they were my new skin on my legs and they welcomed the air and made my legs feel sensational. The dress looked beautiful and it felt like it showed who I was, a beautiful princess. I cried as I seen myself in the mirror as someone who was happy. This was the moment I did not feel like a freak or someone who had weird thoughts. I felt like the person staring back at me was the person I really was!

It helped that Olivia knew this, as she was the one that opened this world to me. She did not care about stupid rules and social norms society forced us to accept. She loaned me her clothes. This was not the only time we dressed up. I visited her every day and changed from the boy next door to her sister. We played with her dolls and she taught me how to paint.

I was so happy!

When the weather was nice, we started playing outside. I loved the summer sun when I was wearing a summer dress. I also learned how to act as a lady, like not spreading my legs when I sat.

We even went to the mall. I was very nervous when Olivia suggested this. But she said not to be ashamed, even if people knew I was a boy. She reminded me that I was happy when I was her sister, and being happy was the most important thing and the thing people should strive after. So we visited the mall. I was in a summer dress and sandals. Olivia was right. I was never so happy then being in public as a girl. It was like I secretly was showing the world who I wanted to be. I felt so pretty and so free. It was like I was released from a prison and got freedom. I knew deep down that some people thought I was a boy because of my hair, but I didn’t care. Olivia was at the mall with her sister!

We dressed up as sisters all that summer. At home, I was a boy longing to visit Olivia and when I visited Olivia, I was transformed into her sister. I suppose this is why I loved the story about Cinderella. We would play with Olivia things, or in her yard or visit the mall. Like Cinderella, the time would come when I had to be a boy again, but I did not mind, as I knew I would be a sister again.

One day, as summer holidays was nearly over; Olivia and I were window-shopping at the mall. I had a top and skirt on with stockings that went above the knees. We were giggling like two girls and wishing that we had loads of money where we would buy everything that we wished for. Everything was going great until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I started to panic as I seen it was my mom! She did not look overjoyed to see me and she did not look mad. She simply said that we would speak later that night. The rest of the day did not go so well. I was afraid. My secret life was known. I was so afraid my mother would not love me and would send me to some child's home.

That night, Dad was not home, which gave me some relief. I was thinking of what I should say to mom. It would be easiest to say it was a game and it was a dare, but I did not want to lie. Besides, that mom would most likely ask me what I would do if someone dared me to jump off a cliff. She called me out and gave me some warm chocolate. I told her everything! I said that when I went over to Olivia's house, I was her sister. I acted and dressed like a girl. I wanted to say to mom that I was sorry and would not do it again, but I could not promise that.

Mom was very calm and said she would support me as much as she could. She thought it was just a phase, but she read about transgenders and always thought it was a fetish. I did not understand what she was talking about as she continued talking. She knew it was not sexual and said it was best that dad did not know. She said this meant I could continue playing dress up at Olivia's house, but at home, I was to be a boy. Mom said it would be good if I attended ballet classes. This got me excited.

So in secret, I started doing ballet and this was the highlight of every week. I felt like I was a fairy or an angel. When I danced I felt like I was flying through heavenly clouds. I wore leotards and tights, which was good enough for me. Sometimes I would wear the tutu when other girls “dared” me to wear it. I, of course, pretended that it was a bad dare, but it did not take long for me to put it on.

I was happy, and this lasted until I just became 12 and Dad found out that I did Ballet. You would think it was the end of the world. He was not mad at me nor did he yell at me. He did say he was disappointed with me and felt ashamed. This hurt me a lot more. In some way, it would have been better if he was mad at me, as this showed he was mad at my actions and still loved me. However, when he said he said he was ashamed, it was much worse. It did not help that I cried when he said this. I ended up telling him how I really felt and the dress up games I had with Olivia. When I told him that I dressed up as a girl and even went out in public as a girl, he told me it was a sickness. I would end up being gay and living a very sad life. I was going against Gods plan for me and a sin. He told me he would not allow it. From now he would make a man out of me.

I was not allowed to see Olivia, and this hurt me a lot. He told me she was a bad influence on me and she should want me as a boyfriend, not a sister. This made me think about Olivia. Was she just a friend or did I have special feelings for her? The fact that I could not visit her made the feelings much worse.

Dad took me swimming and to bowling. This was after I tried doing football, in which I hated and thought was agony. I was no good at it and did not want to be good at it. I must admit that I liked swimming and bowling. I enjoyed these trips with Dad and got to know him a lot more. I tried my best living up to his expectations and being more and more masculine. This did not mean I did not miss ballet and visiting Olivia. I missed being a girl, but Dad did his utmost to ensure that I did not have time to try those things again. I also met his friends that knew of my past which was presented as my shame. I heard what macho men thought of transvestites and cross-dressers.

This left me totally confused. Dad asked me again and again if I was now a man and would admit that my crossdressing was wrong and against nature. I could not admit this. I told him that I knew I was a male, but I also liked showing my feminine side. Dad became more and more agitated that I never answered what he expected me to answer. It ended up that he left us when I was 13, saying I was a lost cause and he felt like disowning me. He blamed mom for not being stricter with what he called my perverted thoughts.

So it was just mom and me. I was depressed because Dad basically disowned me and I thought it was my fault that my parents were divorced. If someone asked Dad, he would agree that I was the cause. This was a lot to put on 13-year-olds shoulders. On top of this, I was confused about who I was as a person. Was I transgendered or was I just a boy that liked being a girl once in a while. Did this make me weird and a freak of nature?

It ended that mom invited me and Olivia out to eat at a fancy restaurant. Both Olivia and mom were worried about me. They understood why I was depressed and confused and wanted to help me. Mom told me that it is never a child's fault for their parent's divorce. It was my Dads fault that he wanted to mould me into the same man he is. This was not the answer. Mom said I should see a shrink and get some professional help. Olivia said she will always be there to support me and be my friend

So I went to the shrink who was a man. We spent a lot of time talking and exploring my feelings. I quickly learned that it was not wrong to have feminine feelings. It was not wrong for me to want to be a girl once in a while. Some boys really thought they were girls in a boy’s body. I once felt like this, but now that changed. I was proud of being a male but was just as proud when I was a girl. I must admit that the shrink helped me a lot as it showed me that we are all different and we all want to express ourselves differently. Life was short so I should at least aim for happiness.

I started being a girl at home during the weekends. Mom bought me girl clothes and even made my bedroom into a unisex bedroom. On weekdays I was a boy. I enjoyed both being a boy in the weekend and the chance of being a girl on the weekends. Over time, I did not even think of my life as a boy or a girl. I was just being myself. I was neither a boy nor girl. I was wearing what I wanted and doing what I wanted. This could be jeans or a dress. I was a rebel. I decided myself.

I studied to be a psychologist, as I wanted to help people that had problems. The day I graduated, was important for me. I asked Olivia to marry me. We were always more than friends and our relationship became even closer when Dad left us. It was one of the happiest days in my life when she said yes to me.

She wore the dress, and I wore the tuxedo!

That did not stop me from showing my feminine side. At times, I would dress up as a woman and live as a woman. I must admit that Olivia was much prettier than I was. She also accepted and had no problem when I was wearing a dress. I always wore panties, so being unisex was always part of me and my life.

We had two children, your mom and your uncle. They were gifts from God. They knew and seen that I had no problems when I wore women clothes. Your mom used to think it was funny if I didn’t shave, but no one thought I was a second-class human or inferior. Actually, your mom understood it at an early age, where she said I was unisex and was happy in a dress or jeans.

I never did speak with my dad again. That is a bit sad, but it is his problem. He missed out on my teenage years and my marriage, as well as his grandchildren and not to mention you.

So, Dakota, This was my story and I know you have many of the same questions I had and you can be confused. Please promise me you will never think you are not loved or good enough. Your mom is very understanding. Open your heart and be open about your feelings. Your mom will help you find who you truly are and be happy.

I know, your mom and dad will always be proud of you and love you, no matter what, just like I do.

Hugs and love
Grandpa