Danny knows that he must do something about his lack of confidence, so he visits his psychiatrist. But what can even Dr. Beecham do for him now? Has Danielle already won?

Danny Wiseborough paused at the frosted glass door. The stenciled letters spelled out a single name:

Thomas Beecham MD
Psychiatrist

Danny took a deep breath. He had begun to talk with Dr. Beecham after the attack. The psychiatrist had helped him deal with the anxiety and fear that were taking longer to heal than his physical injury.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Hi Danny! How can I help you today?” Dr. Beecham sat back in the big leather armchair, his writing pad propped up on one knee.

Danny sat down in a matching armchair across from his psychiatrist. He was still nervous about bringing the subject up with Dr. Beecham. He should have brought it up when he had first told him about his crossdressing. That was embarassing enough, but now he had to go through telling it again.

“I’m not sure how to say it, Doctor Beecham,” Danny muttered nervously.

“Just out with it! You can save us both a lot of time and yourself a lot of pain,” Dr. Beecham assured him. “No matter what it is, it won’t be worse than what you’ve already gone through.

“But I’m really embarassed about it.”

“That’s okay. You can tell me. And nothing you say will leave this room, unless you take it outside.”

“I’m scared, Doc.”

“Of the bullies again?”

“No,” Danny said. “Not that. Something else. It was something—something pleasant!”

“Something pleasant?… You’re afraid of something pleasant? Now that’s interesting! So, what was it?”

“Do you remember the concert where I had dressed up as a girl because Katy Jo had switched the order for my uniform?”

“Yes, you told me about that.”

“Well, I didn’t tell you everything!”

“Oh? What else is there?”

“I didn’t tell you that—well, even though I was scared and nervous doing it, once I started to play, I liked it. I enjoyed being dressed up like a girl. There! I said it! I felt good while I was crossdressed!”

“You enjoyed it, then?” Dr. Beecham grinned slightly and chuckled imperceptibly to himself.

“Yes, I did. While I was playing, I began to feel like—like I was supposed to be a girl. It seemed silly to me at first, but the uniform I was wearing suddenly felt comfortable. Vanessa had gotten me a matching set of bra and panties to wear under it and they felt soft. I was wearing pantyhose, too, and they felt tingly and almost electric. And then I became aware of the perfume that she had sprayed on me. When I breathed it in, I relaxed very deeply and then my music sounded—and felt—somehow very different.”

“Different? In what way?” Danny’s psychiatrist asked, seeking clarification from him.

“I’m not sure how to say it, but—first I noticed that I was playing from memory. It’s was a complicated piece, Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis—”

“Yes, I remember you telling me,” Dr. Beecham recalled. “I know the piece. It made Vaughan Williams’ career as a serious composer.”

“Well, I hadn’t known that I had memorized the music. I hadn’t even tried to. And then I discovered I was using more advanced techniques—alternate fingerings and positional shifts—that I didn’t know I had learned. I mean, I hadn’t practiced them or anything. I just knew where the notes were. My fingers were more relaxed than they’ve ever been. And the tone color was nicer than anything I’d ever been able to get out of my instrument before. I never thought it could sound like that.”

“Would you say that you had played better than before, or just differently?”

“Definitely better. Vanessa just stared at me with her mouth open. Mis’ess Jacques raised her eyebrows and grinned at me. Backstage everyone was congratulating me with hugs and kisses. Mis’ess Jacques asked me how I did it and I just said I felt it and went with it. She had been on cloud nine while I was playing.”

“Had you ever felt that way during a performance before?”

“No. It was a completely new feeling for me.”

“And it sounds like the others recognized something was different, too?”

“Yeah! It was the main topic of conversation for the rest of the night.”

“The rest of the night?” Dr. Beecham probed further.

“After the concert, I went out with the other girls in the orchestra for pizza and stayed out as long as I could. It was not just fun. They all really seemed to love me there, dressed like them and with them. They treated me like I belonged. I didn’t want the evening to end. When I got home, I felt sad changing out of my uniform. So I slept in my bra and panties to keep the feeling that I was—was special!”

Other girls? Did he mean to refer to himself as a girl? Dr. Beecham looked back through his notes in Danny’s file. Does anything else suggest gender dysphoria? His interest in the girl… what’s her name?… Vanessa… He indicates normal adolescent interest in the opposite sex… dressing-up games, maybe?

“Sounds like you had a memorable experience that night,” Dr. Beecham observed. “Now if I remember correctly, it was Vanessa who suggested you wear the girl’s uniform for the concert?”

“Yes. It was her idea. She thought if I did, I’d call Katy Jo’s bluff!”

“That’s what she told you then, but I would guess that in truth, Vanessa wanted to dress you up mostly because she likes you.”

“I know. But I think what’s upsetting me now is that I really liked being a girl. I think I liked it too much. And I think that she’s still trying to control me.”

“Vanessa is trying to control you?”

“No. Not Vanessa—Danielle! She’s who I become when I dress up. She’s trying to take me over.”

What? First it’s gender dysphoria; now, another personality? This poor kid might be losing it fast! Maybe I should have him get an MRI and CT scan? Could be a concussion from that assault… If so, then the treatment might be easier…

“Why do you say that?” Dr. Beecham inquired.

“When I dress up, ‘Danielle’ has more friends than I do and everyone likes her more than me. I mean, even though they knew it was me, they talked with me just like I was one of them. They invited me—well, ‘Danielle’ to go shopping with them and even to their sleepovers!”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I felt like I belonged with them and—well—I felt like I was successful, like I’d made it!”

His alter-ego is more extraverted and popular than he is himself?… That’s interesting!… Now, how does that happen?…

“And that’s because you were successful,” the doctor assured Danny. “By all accounts, your musical performance that night was well beyond anyone’s expectation. You received both your teacher’s and your peers’ approval for being a first class musician! You deserved the praise you got.”

“But I really think that their acceptance of me had just as much to do with my wearing the same uniform as they wore. I looked like one of them and they talked to me like I was just another one of the girls. They’d never talked to me like that before. They made me really feel like one of them. And the same thing happened when I performed at the Spring River Music Festival.”

“What about the Spring River Music Festival?” the psychiatrist asked, raising an eyebrow. “Tell me about that.”

Danny was silent for a moment, thinking what to say. He had not told Dr. Beecham the full story, as he had felt very embarassed by the outcome.

“Do you remember that I was the soloist for another work by Ralph Vaughan Williams in the competion.”

“If I remember correctly,” Dr. Beecham recalled, “you performed A Lark Ascending. That’s a remarkably beautiful work. I would like to have heard you play it.”

“I didn’t tell you the whole truth about my performance, though.”

“Oh?” the doctor said, again raising an eyebrow.

“I was crossdressed for it, too.”

Dr. Beecham sustained a perplexed look on his face as he scribbled more notes on his pad.

“You performed as a girl again?”

“Yeah! And this time I won the gold medal,” Danny replied with a quietly subdued tone. “But worse than that, I also won a scholarship that I can’t use!”

“What?”

“I won a full scholarship to any accredited music program at the college or university or conservatory of my choice—or Danielle did. Danielle’s name is on the award.”

“Hmm? I see! In for a penny, in for a pound! How did—?” No… The good news is that this most certainly did not result from a concussion!… Dr. Beecham thought. “Why did you—“ He could not even complete his question before his young patient continued.

“I couldn’t play the solo. But Vanessa suggested I try rehearsing it wearing a dress and heels. And when I did, it worked. When crossdressed, I can play better than I ever thought possible—well, Danielle can play it, I mean. She’s a better violinist than I am. It’s still my hands and my fingers but I can’t play like she does. How can that be?”

“So you performed as ‘Danielle’ at the music fesival?”

“Vanessa and Erica found me an evening gown for the concert. They made me up beautifully. When they showed me myself in the mirror, I could hardly believe it. I looked really pretty but I was still scared. Then all my girlfriends from the school orchestra came to hear me play. Mis’ess Jacques was there, too. She had helped me prepare the music, but she asked me if I was sure I wanted to go onstage as a girl again.”

Danny opened a large zippered pocket on the cover of his violin case. He took out a music folder and opened that. Inside was a color photograph of a beautiful young woman wearing a midnight blue formal gown, holding a violin, her eyes looking intently into the camera. She wore between her breasts a gold medal suspended from a royal blue ribbon around her neck.

“Doc, this is Danielle.” Danny handed him the photograph.

Carefully, the psychiatrist studied the image of his patient, noting especially the distinctive facial features that were uniquely Danny’s own.

“This is you?” the doctor asked Danny to confirm.

Danny simply nodded.

“You’re absolutely stunning!” Dr. Beecham remarked. “You don’t look the least bit scared in this photo. That’s the picture of a very confident young woman.”

“That was taken after the awards. I—she had won,” Danny was beginning to cry. “But that should be me in the photo—not her! It doesn’t make sense.”

“Vanessa asked me to be her soloist with a band for the school’s Hallowe’en party. But I haven’t really been able to play it myself.”

“What work is it?”

“Danse Macabre by Saint-Saëns.”

“Makes sense for a Hallowe’en party. Difficult part for you, though!” Dr. Beecham commented.

“Yeah, but it’s my first chance to play with a rock band. Heavy metal and Goth, really. I got a new electric violin over the summer and I want to try it out this way. But I don’t think I’ll be able to do it myself.”

“But you think that ‘Danielle’ can?”

“Of course she can! Easily!” Danny conceded. “In fact, I really think ’Nessa had her in mind as the soloist when she asked me to do it.”

“You said that you like crossdressing,” Dr. Beecham reminded Danny. “So what’s the problem?”

“Well—if I go to the party in drag, that may give more bullies an excuse to attck me again,” Danny admitted. “And I don’t want to revive any rumors about being gay. Besides, I should be able to play music like this without becoming ‘Danielle’ again.”

“I’d like to make a couple of observations here,” the psychiatrist began. “First, this is Hallowe’en. If there’s any time when a boy can get away with dressing up like a girl, this is it! I even did it once.”

“You went in drag?” Danny asked in disbelief.

“Both my sisters wanted to go out as cheerleaders one Hallowe’en and asked my brother and me to dress up like them, too. Then Mom insisted that we go along with it. I felt silly and embarassed at first, but before the night was over, we had all kinds of fun. Even Mom dressed up with us so we all went as a cheerleading squad. Although, I must admit that going together as a group also made it much easier for my brother and me.”

“So I guess that it’s maybe not so weird for Hallowe’en?”

“Not at all!” Dr. Beecham confirmed. “Since you have some previous experience and enjoyed it, why not? It may be a better chance for you to relax than you may realize.”

“What else?” Danny wondered aloud.

“My next observation is that ‘Danielle’ is still you, even when you’re in costume. It’s still you performing. She can’t take over your life unless you want her to! Now, if she seems to be better or more fun than you, don’t forget that it’s only because you’ve given her permission to be and to do what you think you can’t. So if you perform at the Hallowe’en party, you can have an option to be your alter-ego ‘Danielle’ or just yourself, but wearing a costume, like anyone else there. So you’re dressed like a girl? That’s part of the fun our culture allows for the occasion.”

Danny grinned a little and sighed lightly in relief.

“I think I still need help, Doc,” Danny remarked, “when I have to perform. Even if it’s me. Especially if it’s me!”

Dr. Beecham flipped open Danny’s folder to look at his medical chart.

“Son, I don’t like to medicate teenagers if I can avoid it,” the doctor began. “However, I really think that you can benefit from something. I’m giving you two prescriptions. First, for your general anxiety, paroxetine. It works very well for many people who have simple issues with self-esteem. It may or may not work for you, so we’ll have to see. Just take one a day and I’ll see you again in two weeks.

“Pills are not enough for your issues. They can help but alone they’re incomplete. I’d like to see you start on cognitive therapy next month. When you come back, I’d like to set that up with you.

“Next, I’m giving you a small prescription for atenolol, only a dozen pills. It’s often been quite effective for stagefright. Take one or two of these no more than an hour before a performance. They should help you calm down just enough to play.”

“So I’m not weird because I like dressing up in girl’s clothes,” Danny asked, seeking reassurance.

“No! It’s far more common than you may think,” Dr. Beecham said. “Besides, I think that getting upset over crossdressers is actually weirder than crossdressing!” The doctor chuckled audibly. “And I’ll give you this advice: if you’re comfortable crossdressing and you feel better doing it, that’s okay. In our world, it might be too risky to venture outside in drag very often, but at home it might help you relax. Talk to your parents about it. They’re more open-minded than most. As confusing as it was for your dad, he found a way to accept your dressing up before.”

“Yeah, he did. He understood it as my ‘doing it for the team’ that time. He’s so sports-minded that made sense to him.”

“I really think it was more his wanting to support you. So he became as creative as he needed to be to justify it in his own mind,” the psychiatrist explained. “Even though your crossdressing was somewhat upsetting to him, he made the effort to set his own feelings aside to support you. The sports metaphor was his way of convincing himself that it was okay for you to appear as a girl.”

“Wow! I never really thought of that,” Danny confirmed. “So he did that to help change his own mind?”

“Very much so! Remember, parents have feelings, too. Most want their children to grow up happy and healthy, but they’re often just as confused or as frightened as you are by what they don’t understand. You’re maybe luckier than most to have yours!”

“Mom and Sis will want to take me shopping, I’m sure,” the boy predicted, somewhat nervously. “When Vanessa dressed me up, Sis was upset that she wasn’t involved. I’m in big trouble if I don’t ask her along.”

Dr. Beecham consulted his watch.

“That’s about all the time I can spare today,” the doctor said. “Next time we’ll need a full hour, though. Cognitive therapy is very structured and the first session is mostly about setting up the course of treatment. Jeannie can help you schedule it on the way out. Tell her that I need to see you again in two weeks. Also, I’ll tell her that I’m referring you for an MRI and a CT scan as well.”

“Well, okay, I guess,” Danny conceded, beginning to stand up. “I’ll see you next time, Doctor.”

“Have a good evening, Mister Wiseborough!” Dr. Beecham said smiling, as he stood up from his chair.