Prince Taylor goes home for Christmas. He hopes he can wear his own clothes and use his old toys. Christmas break gives him a lot of time to think of his situation

It was time for my Christmas break when I would be allowed to go home. I have been looking towards this since I started at this school two months ago. I planned that I would show my parents that I would not get in any trouble or cause any scandals. I would wear my old boy clothes again. If things went according to plan, then my parents would say that I could start at my old school. You can guess that I was so excited about going home. There was a price to pay. I had to wear the school uniform on the way home. Luckily I would have that long coat on me, so people would only see I was wearing tights and shiny Mary Jane's shoes. Of course. They would also know that I was wearing a dress under the coat.

It was like a circus at the train station. The paparazzi was taking pictures and shouting at me trying to get some answers. They asked me if I was wearing a dress. What did it look like? Did I consider myself a girl now? Was I mad at my parents for sending me to the Victorian Virtue Institute? I did what a prince would do. I kept my head high and looked blankly ahead. I was happy that the police were there to protect me and put some space between me and everyone else.

I sat next to a woman and her daughter on the train. I always loved trains. This time though, I would have liked it if my parents picked me up at the school. The woman was silent for a bit and said that she felt sorry for me. She thought that no child should experience the treatment and harassment from the paparazzi and royal fanatics that I got. I smiled back and told her that I got used to it. My polite answer surprised me as a few months ago I would just have snapped back at the woman and told her something rude. Her little daughter was about Julia's age. She was more blunt in her comments.

“Mom says you are the prince. Are you a boy?” She asked
“Yes”
“I heard about you that you go to a school where boys are girls.”
“I am still a boy”
“But I can see your tights and you have girl shoes on. Are you wearing a dress under that coat?”

Her mother told her daughter to stop asking questions. I did not answer them either. My face must have been so red because I was blushing. It was also warm on the train, but there was no way that I was going to take off my coat. I looked out the window and thought about what clothes I would wear when I was home. It would probably be strange to wear trousers again. I was now so used to dresses and skirts. Would I like it? This question made me blush again as I thought it ridiculous for a boy to ask himself if I would like to wear trousers.

I finally arrived at the palace. My parents, grandmother and Julia were waiting for me. I never got so many hugs as I did then. It was great to be home! When I took off my coat and showed my dress, they were all silent. My mother broke the silence by saying that I looked adorable. Julia made me laugh by saying she wanted the same dress. I did not feel bad or embarrassed that my family had seen me in a dress for some reason, Maybe they would now see how crazy the school was. I told them that I would change my clothes. Mom told me to wait as we needed to talk. I told her that I had no patience. I was looking forward to this for a long time. When I saw my bedroom, I understood why mom told me to wait. It was now a nursey like I had at school! My old clothes were gone and replaced with girl clothes.

I collapsed on the fluffy rug on the floor and started crying. My mother came in and sat next to me. She explained she got instructions from the school and what they should do. I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to destroy everything in the room. The only thing I could do was cry. Why could I no longer lose my temper? My mother was trying to cheer me up by saying at least I still had my old clothes. She also said that it was important I continue with this petticoat treatment as the school said that it is helping me a lot. However, we could talk about that later. I did not respond. This was supposed to be a fun break from school. It was as if the school moved into the palace.

It did not help when I looked at the social media later. There was one picture or another one of me on my way home on the train. I read the comments….
“Prince Taylor is so adorable!”
“How can his parents do this. They should be showing the country an example. Now they have no problem their son in this embarrassing situation. The Royal family’s message is that it is acceptable to treat a boy like a girl. This will scar Prince Taylor for life,”
“its a shame we cant see what he is wearing under the coat. It must be a pretty princess dress”
“This was the first time I did not see the young prince being an arrogant brat.”
“Why do people think that dressing a boy is a punishment? Is being a girl a punishment? Maybe his parents know that he is transgender and is just helping him”
“I think I have to send my son to the Victorian Virtue Institute. I just heard that it costs so much!”
“ I cried when I saw these pictures. Being a prince must be bad enough under normal circumstances. Prince Taylor was always being in the spotlight because he was unlucky enough to be born into the Royal family. The Royal Family is the oldest reality show we have. Now he is being paraded in public as a sissy boy. One could debate if this school is ethical in what it does to boys. One thing we must all agree on is that forcefully humiliating a boy is wrong and sad “

I think the last comment was good. I could never go outside without cameras blitzing and I would be in the media the next day. I have lost my temper and misbehaved in public. Most children do at some time or another. The difference in being a royal means that when you are not being perfect, the whole world knows. Privacy was not a human right that royal members had. It's the price we pay for being royal.

Julia came into my room and told me that he was confused by all this.
“Its not so much you are being treated like a girl” she said, “I sometimes dress as a boy, but it is my choice. Do you want all this? Are you happy? Do you like wearing these pretty dresses? I can understand if you like being a girl. There is a boy in my class who thinks he should have been born a girl. What confused me is this bedroom. You are older than me and yet have a bedroom that a baby has. I figured that if I am confused, then you must also be confused. I just want you to know that I do not care if you are my brother or little sisster. I will always love you.”

I have been seeing my sister in a new light lately. It made me feel bad that I once tormented her and thought that she was annoying. She could have tormented me now, but she told me that she accepted me for who I was. Maybe she is one of those who could see beyond what a person wore and see what was in their heart. I told her that all this was not too bad. I was getting used to it. I also reminded her that she once joked that I could borrow her dresses. The truth was that she could also borrow mine. This made us both laugh. We started looking at the clothes in my wardrobe and telling each other which ones we liked. I admit, that I was having fun with Julia.

Granny told me that I was excused from doing any public arrangements and appearances. She told my parents I had to decide when I wanted the world to see me and how I changed. I was happy about this. I do not think that I wanted anyone to see me in a dress yet. Even in the palace, I hid in my room all the time. I did not even want the palace staff to see me. The maids did come in once in a while, but when they did I just looked down and did not say a word. I did not mind being a girl at the school, because everyone else was one as well. But now that I was in the normal world, I was afraid of what people would think. Would they think I was weird? I think if I was unsure how I felt about being a sissy, then others would also be unsure.

One day while we were eating, Mom announced that our press secretary said that the national TV station wanted to interview me about the Victorian Virtue Institute. Mom thought it was a good idea. I could set the record straight and tell people that it was not a bad school. I could feel my heart beating so hard I felt as if it would jump out of my body. I said in a very low voice that I did not want to do it. I was not ready for it yet. Mom kept on saying that she thought it was a good idea and she was sure that the school would agree. It's easy for her to say. Luckily Dad put his foot down and said, “Taylor will not do this interview if he does not want to. What is he going to say to them? Is he going to tell them he is treated like a girl? People already know that! Let's stop pushing Taylor and forcing him to do things and especially humiliating him. Taylor is not a bad boy. I think I was worse when I was his age. I was never forced to wear dresses, but I still turned out ok.”

I had tears in my eyes. I was so proud of my Dad. He does not often stand up to my mom, but when he does, he means it. Granny also supported him and agreed that my Dad was a handful when he was a child. We all laughed at this. Later Dad said something was interesting in the newspaper. It was a poll about me
61% think it's good that Prince Taylor goes to the Victorian Virtue Institute.
83% Think that Prince Taylor always looked more like a girl than a boy
54% Think that Prince Taylor could be transgender
59% Think that the Petticoat treatment will help Prince Taylor be a better person
72% Think that Prince Taylor is brave.

This was probably the only time a poll was so positive about me, and it was all about me as a sissy. Did the world not have better things to think about? I went to Julia's bedroom. She was playing with her dollhouse. She was shocked when I asked her if I could join her. She said I never wanted to play with her before. I suppose this is true. I think I just wanted to forget all this sissy talk and things. This did not happen. Julia's dollhouse suddenly became the Victorian Virtue Institute. My doll was Madam Eva and Julia's doll was a new boy that started at the school. We played this for ages. In the end, Julias doll said that “he” was happy to be at the school, and thought he could be a sissy. However, he was afraid of what others would think about him. I was silent and then said that one should be what made them happy.

The maid interrupted us and said that the Queen had invited me to afternoon tea.

“I have to get used to you in dresses” the Queen commented
“I think I am getting used to it. Some of them are very pretty”
“I am unsure what I think about you being at that school. Do you like it there?”
“I think it is strange. I have many friends there and the staff treat me well. I did not have many close friends in my old school”
“To me, it seems like a punishment,” Granny said, “It seems as if they want to humiliate you and force you to be a girl. This is no way to treat a child.”
“I never complain”
“That may be so. However I have told your parents that you will not go back to that school if you do not want to”

I was so happy that Granny said this. She told me that we should watch TV. It did not surprise me that a psychologist was being interviewed. She was an old woman. They were talking about me. The shrink said that she thought I could be transgender. I could have always felt like a girl and this could be the reason why I lashed out, misbehaved or appeared to be spoiled or arrogant. Deep down I was frustrated and did not know how to express how I felt. Granny turned off the TV and joked the people seemed to like to talk about me. She told me to remember that they did not know me. They were speculating. Maybe some were hoping I was transgender. Granny finished off by telling me that she would not put a label on me or judge me on what I wore. She loved me. She did want me to think if I was happy.

So I went into my room and sat down looking at the wardrobe full of dresses. I did not like the school when I first went there. I know that Blake hates it. However as time went on, I got used to it. I did not mind the dresses and the girl treatment. At first, I did like it when I felt as if I was being humiliated. Maybe this was a way to humble me. Now I did not mind when I saw polls or people talking about me. I was not afraid or thought it was embarrassing that people would see me. The more I thought about it, despite being embarrassed at times, I was never as happy as I was now. Maybe Miss Eva is right and I was a natural sissy.

Christmas came and we opened our presents. I got a pretty necklace from my parents, and some books from Granny. There was one gift left. I told Julia that it was for her. When she opened it, she started crying. It was my doll, Lisa. Julia told me it was too much as she noticed that Lisa was always with me. I told her that I wanted her to have it. Jula hugged me and told me I was the best sister in the world. We all laughed when noticed that she called me her sister.

Mom wanted to talk a few days after Christmas. She told me that I needed to decide what I wanted to do. I could go back to the school and follow their program or I could stay home. If I stayed home, I could get my old bedroom back and my clothes or continue being the way I was now

“What do you want me to do?” I asked mom
“I have been pushing you to do something that many people find controversial. I never asked you. I do not want you to be hurt or traumatized. I want you to be happy.”

I thought about it for a while and then told Mom that I wanted to continue at the Victorian Virtue Academy.