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Chapter One
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Everyone in school and the neighborhood would have considered me a quiet kid. That was true. I held my thoughts and opinions close to my heart and honestly was afraid to share my deepest secrets.

My best friend, Brooke, lived directly across the street. She was in my class, and I truly loved being around her. It was strange how I could take a deep breath and relax in her presence.

After school, I would go to her house. Both my parents worked, so our house was empty. Brooke and I would do our homework at the dining room table when her mom was there. When Mrs. Dombrowski worked the afternoon shift at the hospital, we’d head to Brooke’s bedroom to work and play.

Brooke had a typical girl’s bedroom with too many pillows, too many ruffles, and shelves full of dolls. She liked to play with dolls, and I’d play along. I never told her how much I enjoyed these sessions. I was afraid to share my feelings. I knew that boys shouldn’t enjoy playing with dolls. But my urge to please Brooke and get lost inside her world was strong.

Playing dolls meant we’d add a complete story with dialogue as we held them. Sometimes, we’d each be a baby doll talking gibberish or be the moms taking care of them. Other times, we’d each choose a Barbie and dress them while we pretended to be that Barbie. We always discussed boys and fashion. I loved playing along with her fantasies because, secretly, they were mine, too.

For her twelfth birthday, Brooke got a special Barbie—a Bridal Barbie. She wore a long, flowing white gown, white high heels, a blue garter, and underwear. I’d never seen Barbie wearing a thong and a bustier. I must have stared for too long because Brooke started to tease me.

“Howard, I can’t believe you’ve never seen wedding lingerie before.”

All I could do was shake my head and nod. I gulped. “It’s beautiful.”

Brooke hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear. “You want to see the real thing?”

I only nodded as she took my hand and led me into her mom’s room.

The next thing I knew, she was pulling clothing from hangers and drawers. I watched in amazement at her efficiency. She handed everything to me and grabbed a pair of white high heels. She grinned. “C’mon, let’s make you a Barbie bride.”

I had trouble hearing because my heart was pounding hard. “Me?”

Brooke grinned, grabbed my forearm with two hands, and squeezed. “Sure, you know you’d love it. I saw you trembling when you saw her gown. Come on, Howard. You know you want to try. Right?”

All I could do was nod.

Everything became a blur. I remember getting undressed, and Brooke slid a pair of panties up my legs. She giggled at my Willie and squeezed it as she pushed it back between my legs. I think I moaned but never protested. Brooke kept dressing me one piece at a time, just like she’d do with a doll.

After the panties, she pulled a camisole over my head and adjusted the straps. She ran the palm of her hand across my chest and murmured, “Your chest is so smooth. I love it.” She impulsively kissed my cheek. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

I smiled and was trying to catch my breath.

After that, Brooke rolled two stay-up stockings up my legs and pulled to get all the wrinkles out. “I doubt my mom ever wears white pull-up stockings anymore. She’s all about pantyhose.

Then, she ran a soft blue garter up my leg and stopped at my thigh. Her hands felt so smooth and gentle. I was thankful that Brooke had tucked me backward so I didn’t embarrass myself by getting too excited.

Then she turned me around and held my hand while I stepped into the gown spread out on the floor. We both pulled it up, and she laughed. You are such a baby with no hips or butt. But that will all come eventually.”

I nodded, wondering if those dreams would ever come true. I’d read about all those details online and was well-versed in how to make myself female. I felt myself tugged and moved around as Brooke adjusted the dress to fit me better.

I remember her holding my arm out and having me stand in front of the mirror. Through my tears, I saw a young girl in a wedding dress. The shoes were tight, but everything else was a dream.

I stood there staring, feeling the tears running down my cheeks and wetting my neck. The next thing I knew, Brooke was holding me tight as I sobbed.

I moaned. “I feel so right, so beautiful.”

Brooke hugged me closer. “Remember that feeling and carry it with you all the time. You are beautiful.”

After a while, we sat on the bed, holding each other. Brooke squeezed me tightly and occasionally kissed my face. It took me a while to stop crying.

When I finally stopped, Brooke smiled. “You lost it there, didn't you? I always knew you were keeping a big secret, and I’m glad this finally happened. I think I always knew.”

I started crying again. “I’m so ashamed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m all messed up inside. I never wanted to tell anyone. How come you don’t hate me?”

This only made Brooke hug me tighter. “I love you, Howard. You’re my best friend. But I always knew you were a girl. We played together too many times, and you made such a good Barbie when we played. But we must get you out of my mom’s dress and package it back up. I don’t want it to get wrinkled. We can find you other clothes to wear.”

I let Brooke help me step out of her mom’s dress and then peel off her lingerie. I had to grin when she grabbed my Willie again.

“You know, this is my first Willie. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like.”

I moaned, and then it erupted in her hand. We were both shocked, but Brooke smiled. She stuck a finger in the pool in the palm of her hand and put it in her mouth. Then she scooped up another finger and stuck it in mine.

“It tastes different. And it’s quite slimy. Do you like it?”

I shrugged and didn’t want to mention that I’d tasted it before.

Suddenly, she kissed me. I watched as she went to her drawers and pulled out underwear. She smiled as she went to her closet and picked out a yellow dress. She held it up to me for my approval, and I nodded.

From then on, things changed. Brooke’s older sister, Melanie, joined us and encouraged me to talk about my fantasies and dreams.
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Chapter Two
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Details, details, details.

We were both twelve years old when we had the Barbie bride epiphany. From that moment on, Brooke became my guiding angel, opening my eyes and heart.

It was all so wonderful. I looked forward to going over to her house every afternoon. When her mom was home, she gave us fresh fruit and something to drink. On the weeks that she worked a different shift at the hospital, we could go straight to her room and play.

But now, before we did our homework and played with her dolls, I would take all my clothes off. As I stood there naked, Brooke would pick out an outfit for me from her drawers. I was a little taller but not too different in shape. She’d even let me wear a bra that we’d stuff with socks so I had a pair of boobies under my outfit.

Brooke would announce, “Today, we’re going outside to sit by the pool and catch some rays.” That meant I would put on one of her swimsuits and a Terry cloth coverup. On other days, we’d pretend to go to the mall or even a school dance. I loved when she’d dress me, and I could become a girl who’d giggle and laugh. I felt so much more relaxed and happy.

My only wish was to leave Howard behind and become my new self, Haley, full-time. However, the biggest roadblock to becoming a girl was my family. I believed everything would be fine if I sat down and shared with my mom. I knew if we talked, she’d understand. My mom had always encouraged me and told me how much she loved me.

Brooke’s older sister was a senior in high school. She looked like Brooke, except her hair was blonde and wavy. She was kind to me and encouraged me to explore my female side. When she was home, she always called me Haley and talked about Brooke and me by saying, ‘You girls.’

Melanie was the one who suggested I get my haircut where they went. It was a salon.

“I don’t know how I could do that.” My mom had been on me to at least get my hair trimmed and shaped. She didn’t care that I was letting my hair get longer. Mom only wanted it to look clean and presentable.

Melanie looked at Brooke. Then she turned back towards me. “No problem, Haley. We can get you a Pixie so when you’re Howard, you simply wet it and comb it into place. Whenever you want to be Haley, we can fluff it up and give you bangs.”

The biggest roadblock in my life was my father. I was scared of him and afraid he would be impossible to talk with about my transsexualism.

My father, Joseph Emerson, was an angry man. He blamed everyone for his failures. The bad things that happened to him were not his fault. He felt that the world was against him. He always had a complaint. He couldn’t go to law school because his mother didn’t have the money. He had a low-paying job because his bosses didn’t see his potential. Even the mechanic at the gas station lied and cheated him when the car needed repairs. He used to say that they raised the cost of gasoline when they saw him coming. He would complain that no one ever respected him or listened to his words.

Almost every day, he came home angry, cursing that another jerk had done him a disservice. He’d always drink cocktails before dinner, during dinner, and when he was done. My mom wanted us to eat dinner together as a family, but he would dominate the conversation, talking about himself and the injustices in his life. Then, he’d storm away from the table and withdraw to the family room. He’d sit in his lazy boy and scream and curse at what he saw on the television.

My father hated everyone. He hated black and brown people. He didn’t trust foreigners or women in charge. And whenever a gay person was on TV, he’d change the channel saying, “That’s my right. I don’t have to watch this shit!”

My mom had a Master’s degree in counseling. She knew about kids and the troubles they faced growing up. But she never talked about work because it made my father jealous. She was a lot more intelligent than he was and had a better job. She got raises and earned more money. But sadly, she was afraid of him. My father browbeat her into thinking that she would be all alone without him around.

Sad, huh?

But despite him, I was determined to go to a salon and let them style my hair. When I approached my mom about getting my hair cut where Brooke and Melody went, she smiled and hugged me. “Of course. Take my credit card to pay for it, and make sure you leave a generous tip. I can’t wait to see the results.”