What idiot did come up with that title? I’m NOT a sissy. I’m NOT a girl. I’m a BOY, sort of. More specifically I’m a femboy. A proud, strong, self-confident femboy. I’m NOT a sissy. The word sissy has too many connotations of wimpishness. I’m NOT a wimp.

Still, many people call me a sissy. And – it’s true I’m changing with the football team. So there is some truth to the title even if I resent the wording - profoundly.

So how did I wind up here? It’s because I’m great cheerleader. Half a lifetime ago (that is when I was 8 or 9) I decided that I wanted to be a cheerleader. I’m a femboy who likes things girly so why not. By that time my family had accepted who I am so the only question was how to help me achieve my ambition. The simple, but not easy, answer was hard work. Cheerleading is NOT for sissies. Neither is ballet.

I said my family had accepted who I am. That didn’t stop my parents from having some opinions about my boyfriends, or rather the frequency I changed them and more importantly the length of my skirts. I like short skirts. Very short skirts.

I was the head cheerleader in middle school so none of my friends was surprised that I made the cut for the high school cheerleading team. I was the only freshman to make the squad. Or to be less ambiguous, I was the only one from the freshman class. My mother couldn’t have been happier. Not only because she was proud of me. The cheerleading squad had a dress code. It was with a heavy heart I put away my very short skirts. Another aspect I hadn’t thought about was the bra. Yes, I’m a femboy. That doesn’t mean I like bras. They are uncomfortable and besides I don’t HAVE anything to support.

Another thing that pleased my mother was that I got a steady boyfriend. One of the up-and-coming football players. He was also the only one from the freshman class to make his team. He’s cute and nice. He is also at least as single minded that I am. Scheduled practice was not enough for him. Most days he managed to convince at least part of the to continue afterwards as well. By sophomore year that had been established. Not all the team stayed on, not all days but enough to make it meaningful. Some players had other commitments. Such as Jan and Karol, the Tusk wide receiver twins. The inclusion of them had made quite a splash. They came from a family of limited means but they had found quite a profitable line of extra income. They tutored their opposites – kids with little brains and much money. The twins were smart and very good at tutoring. Much better than most so-called teachers so they were in high demand. So what if they were Polish? No stupid jokes please! At least not anywhere near their boyfriends!

To be honest I was a bit jealous of all the time Dick spent practicing. However, I soon found out that trying to change that was a losing proposition so if you can’t beat them join them. I made sure to make Dick too tired to continue as soon as possible. That meant that I filled in wherever needed. A smart move. I soon had much more time with him in the evenings. Apart from his obsession Dick is a very attentive boyfriend. That’s why I didn’t dump him. Another thing my mother approved of.

One good thing about being a cheerleader was that we always went with the team to away games. That meant I could participate in the team’s victories (and the few defeats). Always with the obligatory football player kiss cheerleader girl(y)friend after the game. That made me almost regret that plan B never had to be enacted. Even if I possibly was the girliest cheerleader I’m still a boy. That meant that someone sometime might object to me changing with the rest of the girls. To give me somewhere to change in that case I was for purely administrative purposes listed as a replacement for the team.

Sophomore year swished by. Cheerleading, ballet (the one place where I was all boy, albeit in lilac tights), a bit of schoolwork and the most fantastic boyfriend possible made the time fly. Junior year Dick became the quarterback and I became the HEAD cheerleader (no silly jokes please). Very stereotypical, isn’t it?

Actually, things couldn’t have been better until our senior year. THE game of the year. The one against our arch enemies. To make things worse they had managed to win by a point at our home game. The shame! That had to be avenged!

Jan is very bright but to be honest he can sometimes by absentminded. This time he forgot to tie one of his shoes which led to him stumbling. That by itself wouldn’t have been too bad if he hadn’t stumbled in a staircase resulting in a broken leg. There was no one to take his place as a wide receiver. Except of course the “pro forma” replacement – ME. I was soon strapped into his football uniform. Good thing I was Jan’s size. This was not as crazy as it sounds. I had spent quite a lot of time tiring Dick in practice. Since Jan and Karol had other things to do I usually took their positions, an easy choice since Dick was the quarterback. Add to that that Dick and I almost have a telepathic relationship … Besides, as I have repeated over and over again: Cheerleading and ballet are NOT for sissies.

I made a difference. Without being too immodest I made the difference between losing and winning. Not to be obtuse but my cuts threw the other side. My moves, based more on ballet and cheerleading than orthodox football, were not what they expected. No very flexible minds, not at all.

Too bad that I was PUNISHED for my contribution. They made me a FOOTBALL PLAYER. A regular member of the team. (Jan wouldn’t come back before the end of the year). How could they? A femboy – a football player? Sheer gender discrimination! Why is football considered more important than cheerleading? And - I was the HEAD cheerleader!

My protests didn’t help. My parents’ protests didn’t help (they were not happy all about me being thrown out of the cheerleading squad). That’s why the “Sissy” is changing the with the football team. I’m one of them (even if it’s not reciprocal). My first game as a regular member of the team. Oh, I admit there are some upsides as well. This allows me a nice view of Dick (and the other boys) changing. And the way the opposing team reacted when we met them was priceless. Since I’m off the cheerleading squad I’m once more allowed to wear the very short skirts I love so much.