Tutu

By Pamela

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Hank had been happily married for almost three years. His wife, Cassie, an attorney, was the love of his life. They lived in a nice neighborhood, one house over from the corner lot at the intersection of Regatta Avenue and 25th Street in Miami Beach, Florida. To anyone viewing their marriage from the outside, the only potential wrinkle in their perfect relationship was the fact that Cassie traveled quite a bit on business - at least one week of every month. One might think that Hank would be lonely while his wife was fully engaged with colleagues at exotic places around the country and the world. In reality it was quite the opposite. Hank took advantage of Cassie's trips to get in touch with his inner girl. In fact, Hank was a closeted crossdresser who had never shared his secret with anyone including Cassie. He could see that there were probably good reasons to tell Cassie about his proclivity, but to his mind they weren't enough to justify risking the great marriage he had with her. It was true that he loved her madly and he was affectionate and caring. For her part, Cassie often told Hank how much she loved him and how happy she was that he did not mind her travel.

Hank knew that he was every bit as much a girl as he was a boy. In fact, Hank felt himself to be a quite feminine girl, an alter ego whom he had given the name "Julie." When Cassie went away, Julie came out of the closet and had a delightful time living her girlish life. When Cassie came home, Hank reemerged and spent a delightful time with the woman he loved so dearly. Occasionally when Cassie's trip was canceled or delayed, Hank's desire to be Julie could grow to the point where he was anxious for Cassie to leave, and he had to be extra vigilant not to let his feelings leak out.

Julie expressed herself by dressing in pretty clothes that she kept above the drop ceiling of acoustic tiles in the basement playroom. Yes, right above the pool table Hank stored his collection of lovely clothes that he wore as Julie when Cassie was away. The crowning joy of Julie's collection was a fabulous pink tutu that Hank had found in a second-hand shop in Miami. He had supposed that one of the ballerinas at the Miami Ballet had once worn it. It was in pristine condition. A beautiful alluring and delicate confection of pink lacy layers arcing out from the torso a good two feet all around. Thankfully, God had given Hank a rather gentle man's body - not very strong muscles, modest height and slender waist - so the tutu fit him like a glove. When Julie wore the tutu, she donned her favorite pink panties, tights and pink bra and her B cup sized breast forms. Every time that Julie stepped into that delicious outfit after Cassie left for the airport, she felt like she was an intoxicatingly beautiful and delicate ballerina.

A ceiling to floor mirror and a barre was built on one wall of the playroom that afforded Julie endless hours of entertainment as she watched herself practice ballet moves. Years ago, Hank had taken a ballet class at a local studio for a couple of years until he met Cassie. Then he had stopped the lessons and Cassie had encouraged him to put in the barre so he could continue to do some ballet exercises. As Julie, Hank wore pink toe shoes, plenty of makeup and a wig of long flowing hair. In the mirror Julie was convinced she was a real girl. After a week of being Julie, it was never easy to transition back into being Hank. The thought that in just a few weeks he could be Julie again was what Hank needed to avoid getting seriously depressed. He also had the practical problem of not being overly feminine when Cassie came home. The adjustment fully back to Hank took a day or two. If Cassie noticed the difference in Hank, she never said anything about it to him, though it is easy to see why she might overlook any lingering girlish mannerisms because Hank invariably was hot to make love to her the moment she came home. Hank loved every feminine aspect of Cassie and secretly enjoyed watching her be a woman. He knew that he was more than a little jealous of Cassie’s body. The fact that she had a matter-of-fact attitude toward her vagina and breasts was hard for Hank to reconcile. If he had them, he'd be totally excited about them all the time.

It had been almost three weeks since Cassie's last trip away and Hank was getting a bit restless about needing some Julie time. Fortunately, Cassie would be leaving in a couple of days for Buffalo to help a client and would be away for the entire week. Hank worked at home for a company that preferred that he tele-commute so as to save the cost of expanding their suite of offices in a building in downtown Miami. This arrangement worked out perfectly for Hank since it meant that he could earn his pay while fully decked out as Julie. Little did his coworkers know that a very sweet ballerina often communicated with them over the internet during the workday.

A few days before Cassie was to leave, an odd letter arrived at the house informing them that an episode of CSI: Miami would soon be filming in their neighborhood. The neighborhood folk were welcome to watch the filming and they should be aware that the actors might be staging a crime or two. Cassie and Hank had a good chuckle over the announcement as they were both big fans of the show and Hank promised Cassie that he'd keep an eye out for the shooting and give her a full report. He even intended to take some movies of the filming himself to show her.

A couple of days later a cab came to the house to take Cassie to the airport. Hank was left alone in the house listening to the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. As was his custom every time Cassie left, he hesitated before becoming Julie. He let himself bask in the rising and soaring thrill he felt with the certain knowledge that within a couple of hours he'd be all dolled up in his pretty ballerina outfit. The signal to start getting dressed was Cassie's phone call just before her flight boarded. He made himself wait like this every time, since he particularly enjoyed the excitement of his imagination running wild with delightful thoughts of each and every aspect of the transformation to come.

This trip was no different than any other and Hank received the call from Cassie exactly as he expected. This was the signal to jump into motion and he proceeded to give himself a luxurious bubble bath followed by a careful and loving session in front of the mirror putting on makeup. Then his underwear came on followed by his tutu and wig. The last thing was his toe shoes and then he was set. The first look in the mirror of his complete outfit was always a marvelous thrill and it never ceased to amaze Hank how much pleasure he took in the delicate female figure he saw in the mirror. Hank put music from Swan Lake on his CD player, and he improvised a lovely dance to the melodies. After a period of time Hank felt hungry and he went upstairs to the kitchen for a snack. Looking out the broad picture window of the kitchen while eating some hummus and crackers, Hank noticed that it was about five o'clock and the street was deserted.

Hank was just putting the hummus back in the refrigerator, when he heard a blood curdling scream coming from outside. He ran to the window and looking up the block to where the sound had come from, he saw an attractive young woman being assaulted by a guy wearing a blue blazer. The man seemed to have a weapon of some kind in his hand. Years earlier in college Hank had been in a classroom when screams for help were heard outside. The class had hesitated for a minute or two listening to the calls for help before finally reacting by running outside and scaring a mugger away. Hank had never forgotten that awful pause while the class tried to pretend they weren't hearing the screams for help. Ever since that experience he had programmed himself to react the moment he heard a call for help, and so he did this late afternoon.

Hank grabbed a baseball bat that he kept in the hall closet and ran outside. Though it was risky to be outside in his tutu, he made the quick calculation that he would probably be mistaken for being a real girl. All he really needed to be concerned about was how he would scare off the attacker and save the woman. Up ahead he saw the woman and her assailant. She was quite attractive with a nice figure and low-cut dress. He saw that the attacker had a long, ugly, knife of some sort in his hand. Hank began yelling as he ran full steam ahead toward the guy. He figured that he would hit him with the bat.

The moment Hank reached the end of the block and was just about up to the crime scene his peripheral vision took in the fact that there was a large crowd of people arranged behind police barricades. As he reached the assailant and was about to hit him, he saw that there were camera men all around and trucks lined up down the block and large lamps set up everywhere. It was the film shoot for CSI Miami - it had completely slipped his mind.

A voice called out to him, "Holy shit you idiot. Who the fuck are you? You ruined our shot!"

The crowd roared with laughter at the sight of a ballerina in full pink tutu carrying a bat and running up to save the woman who it turns out was supposed to be an undercover policewoman. Hank faced the crowd and recognized many of his neighbors. A man who lived across the street yelled out, "Is that you Hank?" Then another voice said, "Oh my God it's Hank!"

Several of the neighbors headed toward him and Hank abruptly turned around and ran back toward his house. He entered and slammed the door behind himself. Over and over again he began replaying the scene he had just created. He was cooked. Cassie was going to absolutely crucify him. His life was over. He was never going to be able to live in this neighborhood again. Maybe he would even lose his job. Hank paced back and forth desperately trying to think of some sort of explanation that did not include the idea that he loved crossdressing and being a girl. He could tell the neighbors that he was rehearsing a part in a play, or that the tutu was a costume for a party. Lame, lame, totally lame he thought to himself. No one would believe him.

There was a knock on the door and looking out Hank saw it was his neighbors Bruce and Debbie. "Let us in, we know you're in there," Debbie was calling out.

Debbie and Cassie were very close friends. This was the worst possible situation Hank could imagine.

"Come on Hank. Let us in," Debbie said. "If you don't let us in, we'll definitely have to tell Cassie."

Hank opened the door and his neighbors entered. Debbie was incredulous looking at Hank's get up.

"You're so gorgeous, Hank! What a pretty tutu and everything is just so perfect. Toe shoes and pink tights. Even a pink bra! And that wig and make up!"

"So, dude, you're a crossdresser?" Bruce asked.

Debbie laughed and said, "is the Pope Catholic?"

"I can explain," Hank said and hesitated. The truth was he couldn't explain. It was just something that he needed to do.

"We're waiting," Debbie said.

"You think I'm horrible," Hank said.

"We're more liberal than that," Debbie said, "but Cassie is our friend too and maybe there's something here that she needs to know about. I'm not saying there is, but there might be. So, talk."

"Cassie doesn't know anything about it. You know she leaves a lot on trips. When she's gone, I dress up. I like doing it, I don't know why, I just do. I know I can't stop it."

"Even if it means hurting Cassie?" Bruce said.

"Would Cassie be hurt if she knew?" Debbie asked.

"I don't know. I've never wanted to risk finding out her reaction."

"So, your marriage has been a lie," Debbie said.

"Do you and Bruce tell each other everything?"

Debbie and Bruce looked at each other. "We see your point," Bruce said, "but this is major, like having an affair."

"But there's no victim here," Hank said.

"Perhaps not until now. You've put Cassie at grave risk for being made fun of."

"By whom?"

"Who knows? There are all kinds of people in the neighborhood and they'll be talking about the tutu-man who ruined the take."

"Only time will tell," Hank said. "But you and Bruce won't tell, will you?"

"We can't promise, but for the moment we'll keep our mouths shut and hope for the best. In the meantime, I think you ought to do some deep thinking as to the reasons why you're living a double life. You owe that much to Cassie, no matter what."

It was all true what Debbie and Bruce had said and Hank knew it. He would have to spend some time thinking about who he was and maybe he'd even go find a shrink who could make sense of it all.

***

It ended up not mattering whether the neighbors told Cassie about Hank and his tutu. One of the local residents had filmed the filming of the CSI episode and had caught every wonderful detail of Hank's mad run onto the set to break up the "mugging." The last part of the videotape was the neighbor recognizing Hank. The video was put on You Tube and by the next day was viral. It was screamingly funny. So much so that news of the funny You Tube video made it to the evening news in Buffalo and several colleagues of Cassie's told her to see it, especially because it was filmed in Miami. When she tuned in to watch it in her hotel room, she could tell immediately that it looked like her neighborhood. Then she could see that the tutu-man was her husband. The way he moved, and his face was clearly that of Hank. She sat there stupefied and feeling wave after wave of anger, embarrassment, depression and tears.

She rang up home and Hank picked up immediately.

"I see you've become an internet sensation."

Hank had not been aware of the video. "What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean what am I talking about?"

"Honey, I have no idea what you're referring to."

"There is a viral You Tube video of you in a tutu breaking up a mugging in front of our house."

Hank froze and all his breath got sucked out of himself. "Oh no, you're kidding."

"I kid you not."

"I'm so sorry. I can explain."

"You disgust me Hank. How many wives in America have husbands who sneak around in tutu's when they're not home?"

"I need to explain. Will you allow me to explain?"

"Sure, Hank. Make up a great excuse, polish it up, and when I get home you can serenade me with it, while I figure out if there will be another chapter in our lives together." With that she slammed the phone down.

Hank went online and found the video of himself and cringed at the excellent, unambiguous film of his prancing along in his tutu ready to swing his bat at the mugger. Since the incident, Hank had taken off his tutu. Now it looked like Cassie would not be home for five more days. The neighbors were no longer knocking on his door, so it seemed like there was no reason to miss out on being Julie. Moreover, the stress of what had happened made him want to get the special comfort he always felt when he was dressed up as a girl.

Wearing his tutu again, Hank felt a bit better. He went to his computer and watched the You Tube video of himself again. There were over a million hits. Even he was forced to laugh when he saw the change in his expression as it slowly dawned on him that the mugging was not real and that he was being watched by so many people. In any event, Cassie had given him his homework: to come up with an explanation as to why he wanted to prance around in a beautiful pink tutu. Why was his mind wired that way even though it could cause him irreparable harm such as his current predicament? There was a very real possibility that Cassie would leave him, and if she did, it would be justified.

***

Hank was so weary he fell asleep in his tutu. Early the next morning he was sound asleep when he awoke to Cassie yelling, "Oh my God, Hank. What the fuck?"

Hank shot up out of bed and realized that he was fully dressed as a ballerina and Cassie was standing staring at him. "I'm sorry! I thought you had to work!"

"I took the red-eye home because my supposed husband made a fool of himself in front of the world and it happens to be just a little bit important that I figure out what we're going to be doing now in our marriage!"

"You're right, you're definitely right. Thank you for coming home. I'll change."

"No, Hank. It's appropriate that I see firsthand what I'm dealing with here."

"I'm so sorry," Hank said, "I feel so terrible. You know I love you."

"Tell me what this is all about." Her voice was flat and lifeless as if she was very very tired.

"I've been thinking about why I do it. It makes me feel happy I suppose is the obvious answer."

"Look Hank. That's not an answer. I want to know why it makes you happy. For example, it doesn't make most men happy to be a ballerina."

"I think it has to do with things in my childhood, with my family or my friends. I'm not so sure."

"The problem here is I have a husband who devotes a large part of his life to pretending he's a girl and I have no idea it is going on. What if you hid other things from me?"

"But if I didn't hide this from you, you would never stay with me."

"How do you know that? And why is living a lie somehow superior than living the truth?"

Hank hung his head and said, "You're totally right. I just wasn't brave enough to risk everything I have with you. I love you so much I didn't want to risk losing you and I didn't want to hurt you by making you think that you married a degenerate."

"More than anything else I'm mad at you because you married me under false pretenses. You hid your desire for crossdressing from me, instead of being honest. I never got a chance to make up my mind as to whether or not I wanted to have a husband like that."

"You're totally right. The one thing that I can say is that I knew that I'd be alone a lot when I married you, so I was thinking that maybe that time was my own. As long as I only dressed up as a girl or wore my tutu when you were away, I sort of thought that maybe I had a right to do it."

"I don't know, maybe we both are at fault to some extent. But in any case, I have to go with what is in front of us now. For me, I need to find out why you do this. Once I understand the why, then I'll be able to decide what my next step should be."

"How do I figure out why?"

"That's your problem, not mine. Go to a shrink, think about it, do some investigative work about your past and childhood. Whatever it takes, figure it out, otherwise, I can't promise anything."

***

Hank fell into a deep depression. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Cassie and he also couldn't stand the thought of losing his time as Julie. What could he do?"

After a week of soul searching, Hank found a psychiatrist, Dr. Henrietta Finn, who had been recommended to him as someone who had a particular interest in gender identity issues. At their first session, she started it by saying, "So you're the famous tutu man?"

"Yes, Dr. Finn," Hank said.

"What is your goal for having therapy?"

"My wife, Cassie, said I have to explain to her why I want to wear a tutu, or else she'll leave me. Do you think we can come up with the why?"

"Maybe, maybe not. There are lots of reasons why you do what you do that might be forever lost to history. Events in your childhood might be of great importance that you'll never find out about. And of course, the biological predisposition might be the answer, in which case the ‘why’ question is irrelevant. But the bottom line is that it's certainly a reasonable quest to undertake, and a nice thing about you're cross dressing is that it is so specific to wearing a tutu. Surely tutus probably represent an aspect of your past."

"Yes, except I don't remember anything about tutus. I just know that when I got older and I saw the tutu for sale, I felt hopelessly in love with it and wanted to wear it in the most awful way."

"If there was a specific incident that caused your proclivity to tutus, you might be able to remember it under hypnosis."

"Hypnosis? Does that really work?"

"There's no guarantee, but there is nothing to lose in trying. Once you're in a hypnotized state, I can ask you questions that might jog your memory - memory that is closed off to you now."

"OK, I'm game."

"I'll video record the session, so we'll have a record of everything that you'll be able to build upon, and possibly show Cassie if it helps your cause."

Dr. Finn set up her equipment. Then she took out an old-fashioned pocket watch on a fob and dangled it in front of Hank. "I know this looks like a cliché, but I find that it works pretty well."

In a few minutes Hank was hypnotized. "Hi, Hank," Dr. Finn said.

"Hi, Dr. Finn."

"I'm going to ask you some questions about your childhood. Answer truthfully."

"Yes, Dr. Finn."

"Do you remember the first time you put on girl's clothing?"

"Yes."

"When was it?"

"I was thirteen."

"What did you wear?"

"My mom's bra."

"Why?"

"One day I remember I got the idea that it would be nice if I could be a ballerina. No matter what I did, I couldn't shake off the feeling that it would be wonderful to be one. I kept hoping it would magically happen and then I thought, well at least I could wear a bra like ballerinas did and so I did."

"I want to understand this point. You wanted to wear a bra only because ballerinas do, or because you liked the idea of doing what girls do?"

"I guess the desire was at least partly because it was what girls did."

"Did you want to be a girl?"

Hank broke out into a sweat as if he were dealing with an intense inner dialogue. "I don't think I did. I remember that I always liked girls. I think I preferred playing with girls when I was young. My first true friend was a girl named Betty that I played with all the time." Hank was breathing hard.

"Very good, Hank, you're doing very fine work here. What sort of games did you play with Betty?"

"I gave her a stamp album and a firetruck, I think." Hank's face darkened in thought.

"What's going on Hank. What do you remember?"

"Betty was my best friend in nursery school, kindergarten, and even first and second grades, but I recall that I must not have seen her over the summer before third grade. My family had a summer home we went to. When I came back in the fall, I found that she had become best friends with Amanda, another girl in our classes. I remember going to Betty's house to play and finding that Amanda was there. I remember feeling terribly jealous." Hank felt a stray tear going down his cheek. The memory was extraordinarily painful to him. After a long pause, Hank said, "The plain truth was that the two girls excluded me. Amanda made sure that Betty and she were best friends and I was an unwelcome interloper. In particular, I was a boy and boys were yucky."

"I think we've done enough for today, Hank. I'm taking you out of hypnosis before you get traumatized."

Dr. Finn snapped her fingers a few times and Hank was suddenly out of the hypnotized state. "Wow, Dr. Finn, that was intense. I haven't thought of Betty in so many years, and I haven't thought of Amanda since I was in third grade. I had completely erased her from my mind."

"Well this is going better than I expected. Next time, we'll pick up where we left off."

***

Hank briefed Cassie on how his session had gone. "She hypnotized me, and it helped me remember my girlfriend in third grade."

"Do you think that's progress?"

"Yes, and so does Dr. Finn."

"Well, I hope it opens up some doors for you. I'm going away next week on another trip. Do you think that you can manage not to prance through the neighborhood in your tutu?"

"I won't even put it on while you're away."

"Look, Hank, that's very noble of you, but is it realistic? You'll spend the whole time pining away for it, won't you?"

"I'm sorry, Cassie."

"You see, Hank. The truth is that you are this person that wants to wear a tutu, whether or not you wear one. That's the issue for me. If you do or don't continue to wear it while I'm gone, it doesn't change that basic fact, which is the one we are dealing with."

***

Under hypnosis again, Dr. Finn went right to the point Hank had reached last time. "You’re playing with Betty and Amanda. What happens?"

Hank took a moment to zero in on the memory. "I remember that Betty and Amanda were playing with dolls and completely ignoring me. I was a third wheel. I think that I picked up one of her boy dolls, like a Ken figure, to join in the game, but Amanda kept hitting my knuckles with her doll and otherwise making it impossible for me to join in. For her part, I think Betty thought it was funny the way that Ken and I were being beaten up by Amanda.”

“When I kept trying to play, Amanda said that no boys are allowed in the game and Betty agreed with Amanda. I was very hurt, and Amanda said that if I wanted to play at all, I'd have to be one of the girls. So, then I put down Ken and switched to a girl doll. I guess it was a Barbie. I remember her having a princess dress on." Once again Hank was sweating from the effort it took to dredge up these old memories.

"So now you could play with the two girls?"

"Sort of, except that Amanda was the boss. I had to do whatever she wanted me to do and she made things onerous for me to try and stop me from wanting to visit Betty. She kept on hitting my hand holding the doll very hard, so that I cried, and she made fun of me. Betty's mother came in the room and gave Amanda a little talk about not picking on me. That there was no reason why a young lady like herself had to make me cry. Then, instead of hitting me so much, she created a thing called banishment, where my doll did some imaginary fault and Amanda would make me go on the other side of the room until she told me I could come back. So, I ended up spending a lot of time away from the two of them."

As if watching a movie in front of his face, Hank could see the playdate unrolling in front of his eyes. Amanda was a bully. "I even remember that one time, Amanda's mom scolded her for picking on me and even bullying me. Stop making poor Hank cry she said, but I could see Amanda smiling at the fact that she had such power over me."

Some tears went down Hank's cheeks and Dr. Finn said, "Tell me more."

"Then the worst thing happened," Hank said, visibly upset.

"What was that?"

"Betty and Amanda enrolled in a dance class together so that my opportunities to see Betty dropped enormously. All the time she seemed to be off at dance class with Amanda and the times I could see her, Amanda was there, and they talked about dance class and the other girls in it. It was a very unhappy time for me. I never lost my hope that she and Amanda would have a fight and break off their friendship, since I really did believe that Betty and I could rekindle our special bond once Amanda was gone."

Hank convulsed in sadness and Dr. Finn brought him out of his trance. When Hank regained control of his emotions, he said, "I seem to remember that I stopped seeing Betty at about this time, though I can't remember why exactly I did."

"We'll explore that next time, Hank. I think we're on the verge of a breakthrough. There's something you're suppressing you might be able to remember. It may be key to your whole situation."

***

At his debriefing with Cassie, Hank talked about Amanda and what a bully she was.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. You're all the same age, in third grade, and this girl, Amanda, pushes you around and makes you cry. You were a boy, were you not? How could a girl have so much power over you? Was she very large?"

"No. Amanda was like Betty. She just had a toughness about her that scared me."

"Are you scared of me? Physically, I mean. Are you scared that I could beat you up?"

Hank looked at Cassie who is a little shorter than him. "I've never even remotely thought about such a situation.".

"So, think of it now."

"I honestly don't know if I'm stronger than you. If you started a fight with me, I'd probably cower in fear, even if I were stronger than you. Besides not knowing how to fight, I don't like fighting. When I ran out of the house to save the girl from a mugging, I had to overcome so much fear, but I couldn't let my fears get in the way of doing the right thing. And now my marriage hangs on a thread as my reward."

"Is that how you really feel, Hank?"

"I think your problem with me is my lack of masculinity. I want to wear a tutu and I'm afraid to fight girls. I had no answer for Amanda when I was a kid. I'm starting to think that I'm never going to measure up to what you want in a man."

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?"

Hank laughed, "Yes, I think so."

"Good, so the bottom line here is that I'm pleased that you're making progress with Dr. Finn. Hopefully you'll soon have the breakthrough that we're hoping for. Honestly, once I know the why, then I’ll be able to see what ought to happen in the future. I am open minded right now."

***

Hank started his session with Dr. Finn saying, "I feel so close to something. I don't know what. All this week I've been feeling like I can almost remember something. I hope it can come out under hypnosis."

"We'll soon find out," Dr. Finn said and she adeptly used her pocket watch to get Hank into a hypnotized state.

"So, Hank, how did you feel that you were no longer able to see Betty?"

"I was devastated. Day after day I saw her at school with Amanda, but never at her house playing. Sometimes I thought that Betty smiled at me across the classroom, but I wasn’t sure about it."

Hank sat in thought not saying anything.

"Day after day?" Dr. Finn said.

"Yes, day after day, and then it was week after week and then it was a few months later, when I noticed ... What did I notice?"

"Something different in class?"

"I noticed that Amanda was no longer in class. It had been a few days and she hadn't come to class. Yes, I remember now. You see, I was happy, but Betty was so sad. She seemed to be way out of sorts."

"Was Amanda ill?"

"No! Actually, Amanda had moved! She was gone. Poof! Just like that, her family moved. It was sudden with no warning."

"So, a new opportunity between you and Betty?"

"No, yes, well, oh my God, now I see it. Now I see it! Now I see what happened! It's so painful!" Hank started to cry in earnest. Sobbing and Dr. Finn had to run and get him a box of Kleenex.

Dr. Finn waited patiently for Hank to calm down, and when he was calm, she gently said, "Tell me, Hank. Tell me what you remember."

"So, what happened," Hank said in a mechanical voice, "is that Betty's mom must have called my mom to arrange a play date like the ones we used to have. Our mothers had remained friends and had probably talked a lot about the shifting loyalties of their kids. They didn't find it surprising that Betty would change from one best friend to another. That kind of thing happens constantly. Anyway, they both thought that Betty would probably like to rekindle her friendship with me, and my mom certainly knew that I still saw Betty as my best friend. So, they set a time to get together and after school one day I went to play with Betty."

Hank grew tense with the memory and then continued forcefully like he just wanted to get it out, "We were in her room together alone. Betty was intermittently crying because Amanda had gone, and she missed her so much. She started telling me about how much she loved playing with her and especially how much they loved dance class together. They had both really taken to dance class which was mostly ballet with a little hip-hop and tap thrown in. Then she told me her favorite thing was that she and Amanda would get dressed as two pretty ballerinas and made up dances together. She got up at that point and went to her closet and stepped inside it. When she came out, she was wearing her ballet outfit. Tights, leotard and a pretty blue tutu. She sat down and cried her heart out. I felt terrible and helpless. Her closet door was open, and I could look in. I saw that there was another tutu in there. I decided that I could be her Amanda, so I went in the closet and I found tights that I put on and a pink leotard and then the most beautiful pink tutu. I even saw a little silver tiara that I put on my head and I left the closet and walked over and sat down next to Betty." Tears were streaming down Hank's face.

Dr. Finn was sitting on the edge of her seat waiting patiently for Hank to continue. Finally, Hank said. "At first she didn't see me since she was crying so much. But then she looked over at me and at first, she smiled and called out 'Amanda!' joyously happy as if her friend had returned. I stood up and tried to pose like a dancer in her tutu and Betty's face slowly turned from joy, to confusion, to surprise, to hurt, to anger and then to hate."

Hank was breathing hard and his heart was racing. "Betty said, 'How could you do this? How could you make fun of Amanda? How could you hurt me so much!' and began yelling and telling me to go and never come back. Her mom rushed in and saw me in the pink tutu and said, 'What are you doing Hank?' Anyway, there was a million tears shed by Betty and myself and my mom came and fetched me, and I never ever talked to or played with Betty again. I think for weeks and weeks afterward I cursed at myself for my poor judgement in putting on the tutu, until I made up a scenario in my mind where the incident never happened. I think I rewrote history so that Betty and I just stopped being friends. Not that I had any role to play in that."

Dr. Finn returned Hank's mind to normal and said, "Wonderful work, Hank. You've accomplished so much."

"So, we have to now figure out why that incident with the pink tutu when I was in third grade lead me to crossdressing and wanting to be a ballerina."

"Yes, that's the last piece," Dr. Finn said.

"Well, the thing is I feel very happy when I'm wearing the pink tutu. Isn't it odd that I feel that way considering the fact that when I put on Betty's pink tutu it hurt her so much?"

"I think the answer is that your mind associates the tutu with being Amanda, and since Betty was crying about Amanda your subconscious still wants to be Amanda so that you'll be loved by Betty. That was your impulse years ago - be Amanda and get Betty to like you again - and you never stopped feeling that. If you were Amanda, then you'd be back with your best pal and you'd be happy again. So now, as an adult you're still hoping to be Amanda and reunite with Betty."

***

Hank returned home triumphantly to tell Cassie the good news. He now knew why he loved wearing the tutu so much. "It's all about you wanting to be Amanda, so you can reunite with a long-lost love?" Cassie said.

"I wouldn't call Betty a long-lost love. We were kids in third grade after all!"

"So now you don't want to wear a tutu? Now that your conscious mind knows what is driving it from the subconscious?"

Hank thought about what Cassie said and answered, "I don't know. I think I still want to wear the tutu."

Cassie's eyes widened in anger. "OK, Hank. That's it. I don't want to be married to someone who will always want to be dressed like a prima ballerina. It's just too much of a stretch for me. I obviously don't require a masculine husband, but the tutu is going too far. I'm sorry!"

Hank broke down into tears and Cassie did her best to comfort him, but she said that it just was what it was. There was nothing that she could do about it.

***

A few months later, when Hank had moved out of the house to his own much smaller house, he got a strange email that said,

Dear Hank:

I hope you're the famous tutu-man. I've had such a hard time tracking down your email address. I saw the very funny tape of you in a tutu breaking up the mugging. It took a while but then I remembered that face which I hadn't seen since third grade. I've never forgotten how you put on my pink tutu and pretended to be Amanda. I know I got very angry at you and refused to play with you anymore. But much later in life, I realized one day that you had done what you had done, not for a selfish reason, but because you were trying to lessen my pain. You really just wanted to be a stand in for Amanda and help me get over her. I was so wrong to judge you harshly. Anyway, I wanted to be perhaps the one person who tells you that I thought you were very cute in the tutu I saw on the video. I even felt a pang of desire to get to see you in your tutu and see how you compare to Amanda. Anyway, I know that you're married, but if for some reason you have the opportunity to rekindle our friendship from third grade, I'd love to do so. I still have your stamp album, but sadly your firetruck got waylaid somewhere along the way in my life and I no longer have it.

Love, Betty.

The End