My name was Jimmy. I was the youngest of four boys. The oldest was a freshman in college. The next two boys were a freshman and a junior in high school. It was two or three weeks after my twelfth birthday that I began to have bouts of crying. I could not understand it. I would cry for no reason at all. After a week of this, I went to my mother. “Mom, I can’t imagine what is going on with me. I am crying over the smallest things. What is wrong with me?” She smiled. “Jimmy, you are probably going through puberty. Testosterone is making you moody. It no big deal.” I went to my father. “Son, I don’t remember crying when I was your age but trust your mother. She’s a pharmacist and ought to know what she’s talking about.” I still had doubts.

About three months later, my calves, thighs, hips, and buttocks, were starting to look feminine. But what really scared me was that my chest had two swelling mounds of flesh – breasts – and my nipples were tender. Even just as scary was that my face was starting to look like a girl’s face. Again, I went running to my mother. “Mom, what is wrong with me? I am starting to look like a girl! I don’t want to be a girl!” She said, “Jimmy, almost two percent of children have both male and female traits. They are called intersex children. Most intersex children are evident at birth, but some, like you, do not become apparent until puberty. You do not need to be scared. We will figure this out.” Thankfully, I had finished sixth grade two months before.

A week later, Mom and I went to see our family doctor. He examined me, then told my mother, “Kimberley, you appear to be correct in your analysis of the situation, but just to be sure, I want scans to be taken of Jimmy. I am ordering a CT scan at the hospital. A week and a half later, we met again in his office. He showed us the scan. “This shows that Jimmy has two ovaries. I recommend that you go to the gender clinic at the hospital. They will be able to help you decide what is best for Jimmy.” On the way home, Mom said, “Jimmy, given your appearance, I think we need to think seriously about having you transition into a girl. We will go to the gender clinic and see what they say.” I broke down in tears. “This can’t be happening to me!”

Two weeks later we met with the psychiatrist at the gender clinic. My father was with us. The psychiatrist looked at the CT scan. He turned to me, “Jimmy, I am recommending to you and your parents that you go through what we call gender reassignment surgery. You look like a girl, so you should live like a girl. You are too young to have what we call bottom surgery, where we change your male sex organs into female genitalia. I recommend that you wait until you are eighteen to have this done.” Again, I cried. “I don’t want to be a girl! I’m a boy! Please change me back into a boy!” The psychiatrist said, “Jimmy, it would be very difficult to change you into a boy. Give yourself time to think about this.” I was very dejected and distraught.

It was a week later that Mom came into my bedroom. She sat down on my bed and patted the place beside her. “Sit down here beside me, honey.” I sat down next to her. “Sweetheart, you need to stop fighting this. You look like a girl. Your voice is starting to sound like a girl. Except for your male genitalia, you are a girl. Please let me help you be a girl. Let’s go shopping today for girls’ clothes. You need to let your hair grow out to at least below your ears, if not shoulder length. And you and we need to start addressing you by a girl’s name. I suggest the name Jessica. Please do this for yourself and for us.” “Okay Mom. I will do this, but I am still not fully convinced that I am a girl forever. I still want to be a boy.” “Give this a chance and let’s see.”

We went to the mall and Mom helped me select girls’ clothes, even panties and bras. I still cringed inside. At least, I wasn’t crying. She even bought me make up. When we got home, she took some white material and made me what she called “gaffs”. “These will help you cover your maleness.” She then helped me get dressed up as a girl. She showed me the proper way to put on the gaff under my panties. She showed me the easiest way to put on my bra, which was to fasten the back in front, upside down and inside out, then to turn it 180 degrees and pull the cups up onto my breasts, and the straps onto my shoulders. She dressed me in a skirt and blouse and then helped me to apply makeup. A pretty girl looked back at me in the mirror.

That night, at the dinner table, Dad and my three brothers, Michael, Chris, and Matt, all stood up when I came to be seated. They were all smiling, not in mockery of me, but in appreciation. When they were seated, Dad said, “Jessica, you look very pretty this evening. I mean that.” Michael, spoke next, “Jessica, I think you look awesome.” Chris and Matt chimed in, “You’re cool!” I blushed at all of these compliments. “But my hair is so short.” Dad said, “You don’t need to mind that, a lot of girls wear their hair short these days. You are very attractive and feminine.” Mom added her two cents worth, “Jessica, you are every bit the girl that we hoped for in a daughter.” My brothers added, “… and a sister!” I really enjoyed dinner that night.

There was only a month left until classes started in junior high school. Mom decided for me to be homeschooled. She did not want me having to make special arrangements for the restroom and for gym class. She also invited several girls over to spend time with me. Their names were Ashley, Sarah, Amanda, and Stephanie. We talked for hours about many different things. One thing that they wanted to know about me was what it was like to be an intersex child. Mom had told them about me and had them swear to keep the matter a secret. I found that they were very sympathetic and empathetic too. They didn’t just want to know facts, but how I felt about everything. We laughed and we cried together. I was so glad to have friends.

Mom waited until after school started, then one Saturday morning she said, “Jessica, how about we go and get your ears pierced, and your nails done?” I said, “I think that I would like that.” The process of getting my ears pierced was not as painful as I imagined. It was like a quick pinch or sting, sort of like a shot at the doctor’s office, and it was sore only for a short time. They were tender for a couple of days, and then they felt fine. As for my fingernails, I went with a soft pink with small splashes of white on them. Mom asked me on the way home, “How are you feeling these days, Jessica?” I knew what she meant. “Mom, I think I am beginning to like being a girl, and I think that I feel more like a girl, except when I tuck myself into the gaff.”

She asked me about my last comment. “Jessica, do you feel that you would be more comfortable having the bottom surgery sooner than later?” I answered, “Mom, I think that my male parts take away from the feeling of being a girl. I think that I would like to transition sooner than later.” She replied, “You understand that there would be no turning back at that point. Even though turning yourself back into a boy would be difficult, it is still possible.” I thought for a few moments, and then I asked. “Mom, what is it like to have a vagina?” She thought for a moment and then said, “It is a clean feeling, a feeling of completeness and of wholeness. I’ve looked at your father, and I’ve thought, ‘I would never want that thing dangling between my thighs.’ A vagina is so much more than I can explain. He may think he’s conquered me, but I am in control.”

I answered my Mom’s question, “Kimberley, I think that I am convinced that a girl’s life is much better than a boy’s. What I have experienced in the past few weeks is much better than my whole life as a boy. I really enjoy the conversations with you, much more than I ever have with any guy. I feel like you are totally honest with me. We talk about anything and everything. I feel better about myself than I’ve ever felt before. I’m especially glad that you found some girlfriends for me. They are so much fun. Mom, I want to feel that cleanness, completeness, and wholeness that you talk about. I also want that sense of control. I want a vagina, Mom, not this thing that makes me feel like a freak.” “You’re not a freak, dear, just in transition.”

The next conversation that Mom and I had was about returning to the gender clinic. “Jessica, you need to tell the psychiatrist that you are very uncomfortable with your male genitalia. He needs to understand that you feel incomplete as a girl.” I said, “Mom, thank you for raising this subject. I am totally convinced that I will only be happy as a whole girl.” She replied, “I’m glad that you feel this way. Your doctor is going to push back, because in his mind it is imperative that you be an adult to make this decision. For him it is a liability matter. He’s afraid that you will come back with a lawsuit, because you were coerced into deciding at too young an age.” I answered, “Mom, trust me, I will help him to see what a big deal this is for me right now.”

We met with my psychiatrist a week later. I said, “Doctor, I am very uncomfortable with my male genitalia. I cannot wait until I am eighteen for the bottom surgery. I feel incomplete as a girl. You can’t begin to under-stand how much I detest this part of myself. I hate this last vestige of maleness. Please help me.” He said, “Jessica, I can’t tell you how much I would like to help you, but my hands are tied.” I replied, “I can’t continue living this way.” “Are you saying that you would do yourself harm?” “I am saying that I can’t stand to live this way any longer.” “If it is a matter of your safety, I could move your bottom surgery up to fifteen.” “That’s more than two-and-a-half years from now!” “Fourteen is the best that I can do for you.” I smiled.

On the way home, Mom said to me, “Sweetheart, you realize that you need to wait until the end of your sophomore year to become whole.” I said, “I know, Mom, but I didn’t get the feel that he would budge past fourteen. I think that I can live with this that long. We got four years taken off my wait.” She replied, “Jessica, as long as you are safe with this, then we’ll go with it.” “I am not suicidal, Mom. I’ll be okay.” “As long as you are sure.” We drove the rest of the way home in silence. As Mom parked the car in the garage, she said, “I hope that you will tell me if you have any desire to hurt yourself.” I replied, “Mom, if I begin to feel that way, I will let you know, honest.” She smiled, “You are such a sweet girl, Jessica. I love you very much.” I smiled.

The next year and a half passed fairly quickly. When I reached my fourteenth birthday, I said, “Mom, can we go ahead and schedule my bottom surgery?” She said, “Yes, dear, definitely.” We made an appointment to see my psychiatrist and the surgeon. They scheduled me for a month out, July fourth, Independence Day. I was assigned a room, and the surgeon came to see if there were any last-minute questions. Seeing none, he ushered my family out of the room. The nurses prepped me for surgery. I was wheeled down the corridor and taken into the elevator. I was then taken into the operating room. I said, “This is really a big deal for me.” The anesthesiologist said, “You have no adverse reactions to anesthesia?” I don’t recall much after that.

When I woke up in recovery, Mom was sitting beside my bed. She smiled. “Jessica, you are now complete. The surgeon said that everything went very well. You are now truly my daughter.” I smiled as well. “Mom, I am so happy. How soon can I go home?” “The doctor said that the catheter and packing can come out in three to four days. You should be able to pee after that.” “Good, I can’t wait to see what I look and feel like.” Dad and my brothers came in once I was moved back to my room. Dad had a bouquet of flowers for me and set them on the windowsill. “You know, Jessica, that daughters have their dad wrapped around their finger?” I said, “I intend to keep it that way, Dad. I expect to be treated like a royal princess. I get my way.”

When I got home, I found that my bedroom had been redecorated. It was a lovely shade of pink and there were flowered curtains and a matching bedspread with pink pillows and a pink bunny. “Oh, Mom and Dad, I just love it. Thank you!” We hugged and kissed each other. Then my Mom said, “Straight to bed, young lady, and I’ll bring you some hot tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.” I quickly complied and put my pillows so that I could sit up in bed. That was a good lunch, and I enjoyed the oyster crackers. Then I got up and went to the bathroom. It was rather foreign to me, going pee without the use of my hands. I dabbed myself dry with some toilet paper. Then I went back to bed and slept soundly until dinner was served.

The next day I put on a bikini swimsuit, got a lawn chair out of the garage, and laid out in the sun for a while. I was careful to put on some sunscreen lotion. I hoped to have a nice tan by the end of the summer. Since we had a high fence and no neighboring windows looked down on our back yard, I felt free to go topless. My Dad was at work, and my brothers were at school. Mom brought me out some sweetened iced tea with lemon. She had taken the day off to be with me. I then put on a terry cloth jacket, sat on the front porch and read a romance novel. She came out and joined me with some cheese and crackers. She said, “I think that you can go to public school this year. I think that you would enjoy being with more kids your age.” “Yes.”

The next morning, I took a shower. I explored my new vagina. I gently pushed my labia apart and felt for my clitoris, which Mom had told me about. I did feel clean, complete, and whole. Once I had washed my entire body and my hair, I got out and dried myself. I dried and combed my hair. Then I must have stood in front of the mirror for an hour. I could not believe how much of a change had come over my body with the addition of a vagina and the absence of that thing that used to hang between my thighs. It made my entire body look completely different. Mom had gotten my hair styled before the surgery and it too contributed to the feel of total newness and completeness. I felt so much more like a real girl. I was ecstatic and thrilled to pieces.

The summer flew by. The first day of classes was both thrilling and a bit scary. I didn’t know quite what to expect. All my teachers, men and women, were very kind to me. The girls introduced themselves to me, the guys were a bit stand-offish, at least for the first day or two. Then, some of them began to introduce them-selves. Many of them were quite handsome and charming. Joshua and Lucas were very athletic, and I soon found out that they were on the football team. About a week after school started, Lucas asked me if he could walk me home. I said, “Sure, I would like that.” He carried my books for me and did a good job of carrying on conversation with me. When he got me to my house, he asked about tomorrow. I said, “Sure.”

I typically wore jeans to school, like most of the other kids. But, on occasion, I would wear a skirt or a dress. Mom had allowed me to wear some tops with a modest neckline, just enough to show a little bit of cleavage. I really enjoyed being able to freshen up in the girls’ restroom. Usually, there was time for a little gossip as we tidied up our lipstick and checked our hair. Yasmin and I were great friends. Ashley, Sarah, Amanda, and Stephanie were still good friends, and they occasionally had me over for a sleepover. But Yasmin and I were bosom buddies. Once in a while Yasmin would have me over to her house and we soon became lovers. She would gently rub my clitoris with jelly and would bring me to a climax. I cherished her.

My freshman year went by quickly. Yasmin and I often went bike riding together. We typically wore shorts and sneakers, but occasionally we would wear our bikinis and sandals. We got quite a few looks from the guys and sometimes even whistles. One of the things that we enjoyed doing was going to the public pool to swim and sun ourselves. Again, we got quite a few looks and even some passes, though we always said, “No, thank you.” Once we had a couple of guys that wouldn’t leave us alone. We told them to bug off, but they wouldn’t listen. We surprised them with a spray of mase, which we kept on a stretch bracelet. That put a stop to their philandering. There were a couple of guys that we enjoyed talking with, David and James.

It was after my fifteenth birthday, that Mom came to talk with me. She closed my bedroom door and motioned for me to sit with her on my bed. “Jessica, I need to tell you something. I gave you Estrace to help you become a girl. I would crush the tablet and mix it with your breakfast each morning.” “Mom! You mean you changed me into a girl; I wasn’t an intersex child?” “Correct.” “But how could you do that? I didn’t ask to be a girl! What about the CT scan?” “I had an affair with our doctor, and he didn’t want me exposing him, he was married to a rich woman. He got a copy of a real intersex child with ovaries and put your name on it. The Estrace was easy. I created a false account for a man named “Frank” and put $40 in each month.”

“Mom, why could you do this to me? Why?” She replied, “Honey, I’ve always wanted a daughter, and with four boys, your father didn’t want to try for any more children. Besides, I might have had another son.” “So, you violated my rights for purely selfish reasons?” “Jessica, I admit that what I did was selfish and wrong. But you have enjoyed being a girl.” “You didn’t know that I would. I might have been very unhappy as a girl.” “But you aren’t, and I have the daughter that I have always wanted. Would you forgive me for the wrong that I did you?” “Mom, I forgive you. I can’t be angry or bitter about what you have done to me. I suppose that I am as much your child as I am my own person. I love you, Mom, and I really enjoy being a girl.” I smiled.

“Thank you, Jessica, for being so gracious and kind. The reason that I am telling you this is because sooner or later you will get another scan and either you or someone else will discover that you were a normal boy who had gender reassignment surgery. You need to represent yourself to your future husband as a trans-gender person. When you get your learners permit at sixteen, you will be identified as a female, but that status will not always be assured. You cannot have children, so at some point there will be exploration as to why. And I hope that you will keep secret my affair and what I have done to you.” I said, “Mom, of course I will keep this as our secret, but you have put a burden on me that I did not ask for.” “You’re right, I have.”

“Mom, you need to know that I have identified myself as a lesbian. Maybe you didn’t need to tell me what you have. I don’t know. But I am not going to marry a man. As you said, I cannot have any children, unless I adopt them, which I may do. Right now, I am in love with Yasmin. She is my true love.” Mom said, “That’s wonderful, Jessica. Do you think you will eventually get married to her?” “I don’t know yet, Mom.” “As to your possibly not needing to be told, I think it is best that you know the truth about yourself. You might have expected you could have children, possibly by artificial insemination, thinking that you had ovaries. I could not leave you with that false impression.” “I appreciate that, Mom. You truly have enriched my life.”

“Jessica, I will continue to give you Estrace as long as you are living with us. Thankfully your father does not keep the financial records for the family, but he leaves that to me. When you leave this home, to make your own home, I will still provide you with the estrogen. After a year or so, I will change “Frank” to “Francis” and provide a forged letter from a psychiatrist granting him status as a female. I already had to forge a letter to have on file for him to receive the Estrace in the first place. Does all this make sense to you?” “Yes, Mom, it makes perfect sense to me. When I leave home, I will get the Estrace from you each month and will faith-fully take the tablets each morning. I do not want to lose my feminine appearance. I will be faithful.”

When I finished high school, I did get married to Yasmin. We moved into an apartment together and I got a job as a waitress. I went to college at night to get a degree in accounting, with a focus on taxation, to help me be a tax preparer. It was not actually needed, but I wanted to have a firm understanding of accounting and tax law. Yasmin and I wanted to have two children, a boy and a girl, so we adopted through an agency that placed children of unwed mothers with loving parents. I continued to take the Estrace faithfully and consulted my mother on all health concerns. We are really good friends. I do not hold what she had done against her. I grow in my understanding of what a woman is and am glad my mother chose my gender.

I only wish that I could have been a little girl and had grown up with girlfriends and all that they had for me. That is the only void in my life, and all I know to do is fill my heart with the memories of Yasmin, my mother, and all the girlfriends that I have now, living my childhood vicariously through their childhood memories.