First, let me introduce myself. I am George, and I am nearly fifteen. My identical twin, Jeff, and I live with our mother, a very popular cosmetic surgeon, in a small town outside of Denver, Colorado. People come from miles around to have her work her magic on them, so we are financially quite well-off. However, from a family point of view, we are lacking somewhat, since we don’t have a father at the moment. Unfortunately, he was killed in a car accident nearly three years ago; the week before Christmas. Mom takes really good care of us and loves us to no end, but things have just not been the same since Dad left us…

Let me back up in time just a bit to a few weeks before Halloween, while Jeff and I are on fall break. We are home alone and I am trying to figure out what to wear to the big Halloween party that Mom is dragging us to. I walk into Jeff’s room to ask his opinion on an idea, only to find him not there… I don’t think anything of it really, until I hear a noise coming from Mom’s room. I peek in and don’t know who is more surprised, Jeff or me, when I find him dressed up in some of Mom’s clothes and putting on her makeup. I let out a startled, “Jeff? What in the hell are you doing, bro?” He hangs his head a bit and then he says, “Ummm…trying to come up with a costume…?”

I know instinctively that he is lying. We have never been able to lie to each other; we are too closely bonded by blood, or genes, or whatever as twins… I look at him and ask, “Is there something you want to tell me? You know I won’t judge you…” He breaks down and cries as he tells me that he is a girl inside, that he has known it for some time, but that he was afraid to tell anyone. I melt inside as my empathetic link to him lets me feel his extreme pain. I honestly don’t know how to react, though.

Finally, I ask, “OK, so, what do you want to do about it? You obviously can’t keep it a secret from Mom forever.” I see him pale, even through the makeup he has smeared on his face. He says, “George, you can’t say anything! Promise me! I would die!” I shake my head and say, “Chill, bro! I won’t say anything until you are ready… So, how can I help?” This time Jeff shakes his head and says, “I don’t know. I feel so helplessly alone in this. I feel like I am a girl and wish that we were twin sisters… I am so screwed up!” He starts crying again…

I sit there a little stunned at his admission and wonder what I am supposed to do with that information. I think about it for a few minutes, as we both sit there in silence, and then say, “OK, so, since Mom doesn’t know anything about this, and you have to pretend to be a guy when she is home, then I guess I can pretend to be a girl when she is not. Umm…but let’s be clear that I am pretending…” Jeff jumps up and runs over to me and hugs me. He says, “Oh, George, that would mean so much to me! I am afraid that I am not really very good at any of this. I have had to sneak around to make sure no one found out…”

An hour later, I am sitting in my room at my computer, watching several YouTube videos on how to do makeup and trying to follow the instructions while doing Jeff’s eyes. It turns out that today was Jeff’s first venture into ‘girldom’ and he had no clue what to do. I have always been artistic in nature and am sure that I can get this, even though I have even less of a clue. After several attempts, I get it sort of right. He looks pretty good, no blotches of foundation, eyes properly made up, lips well defined, cheeks rosy, and nose powdered… He attempts the same on me and I fix some of the stuff myself that don’t turn out so well. I feel like a complete fool, but, like I said, I would do most anything for my bro…

For the next two hours after that, we are in some of Mom’s clothes and high heels, strutting around the house. I have to laugh at our antics, but Jeff, sorry, Brianne, as she wants to be called, seems really happy. She makes me pick a name for myself for when I am in ‘girl mode’ and so I reluctantly decide on ‘Gwen’.

I keep a careful eye on the clock and, an hour before I know Mom is due to come home, I make sure that we get the makeup completely cleaned off, like another YouTube video had explained, and everything is put back so that Mom will not suspect anything. The next day, Brianne wants to come out to play again and so we repeat the whole thing, again and again, every day of the break.

We get a bit faster and better with the makeup every day, but I notice that we have used a fair amount out of Mom’s bottles and I am afraid she will notice. I make us get back into ‘Jeff and George’ mode and we walk to the store down the block to buy some replacement makeup. I had made a careful list of the stuff we needed from Mom’s supplies. Thankfully, my YouTube research had prepared me to know how to look for things like the right brand, item numbers, and such.

We pick up a few food items and go to the checkout. I expect the girl to look at us funny, or say something, but she doesn’t give the stuff, or us, a second glance as we pay. We hurry back home and I refill Mom’s bottles to levels that are closer to where they were at the beginning of the week and then we hide the rest in Jeff’s (well Brianne’s) room.

And so, fall break passes by and we successfully hide our little secret…

With school on, there is little time to do much as far as Brianne and Gwen are concerned. In order to give Brianne a little playtime, after school, we put on pantyhose and Mom’s high heels, which amazingly fit us quite well, if a little big, just to walk and practice in them–I had done some more research on YouTube and we are following the instructions to walk correctly in them. I critique Brianne and make her walk just like in the instructional videos, including holding her hands and arms correctly, while taking short steps and placing one foot in front of the other. Of course, she does the same to me; I even quit feeling like a total fool–it even becomes a sort of a challenge, especially when we start practicing going up and down stairs correctly.

I also do a lot of research on gender identity disorder at night and have a better handle on what Brianne is going through. I know that, based on the information on several legitimate medical websites, that Brianne and I have not entered puberty yet. We both seem to be on the late end of that spectrum. Unfortunately for Brianne, I find out that we could start any day and that will really mess with her body when the testosterone starts working on it.

The morning after the Halloween party, we have the day off for some sort of teacher day and I decide to confront her. We both had worn lame costumes to the party, since Brianne was too chicken to tell Mom she wanted to dress as a girl and I did not want to make her uncomfortable with my cool masculine idea. I look at her seriously and say, “Brianne, you know that we could enter puberty any day now and that is going to mess with your body in ways that you don’t want. We both dressed in a costume that we hated last night because of this conflict of yours. It is time to tell Mom and get you the medical help you need. Yes, it has been fun for you to pretend, but life is real and so are your problems…”

Brianne starts crying and says, “Oh, George, can we please just get dressed as Brianne and Gwen and enjoy the day while Mom is out? I promise to think about it. I really will…” I relent and we go through Mom’s closet and pick out a couple of her dresses and put them on, along with some high heels. Then we put on our makeup–we are both really good at it by now–and I look at us in the mirror. Mom’s stuff is way too old for ‘girls’ our age, but Brianne is happy so I keep my mouth shut.

We are pretty much pros at walking in heels by now, so we practicing sitting like girls (yes, YouTube was our teacher). We just sit and look through some of Mom’s women’s magazines and do some more makeup and teen fashion research online until we are hungry. We are sitting in the kitchen eating lunch when the door to the garage opens and Mom suddenly comes in, surprising us both. I would say our surprise was nowhere near Mom’s, though. She looks at us, a horrified look on her face, and stammers, “What on earth…? I mean, boys would you…?” Finally, she just collapses into a chair at the table and starts crying.

Brianne rushes over to her and hugs her. She says, “Mommy, it is OK. We were just fooling around…” I decide that it is time to help my sister along and say, “No, Mom, Brianne here is helping me deal with my issues…I am trying to help her, too. I am afraid that you have two closet daughters–and we would really like to come out of that closet. We have been doing this for quite some time but did not know how to tell you...”

Brianne pales and starts to say something, but I quickly continue, “Brianne is really shy about her needs, but I think we both need help–and really soon. I mean we could start puberty any day and that would be terrible for our bodies!”

Mom seems to snap out of it and says, “You, you, both want to be girls?” Brianne shakes her head and I nod mine. Mom says, “Well, which is it?” I say, “Like I said, Brianne is a little more conflicted with what people will think than I am. I have done a lot of research and know that we can’t fight who we are. You can give us hormone blockers to at least stop us from entering male puberty. Will you do that for us, Mom…my? Like today, even? Then you can do whatever tests you want to on us and get us straightened out. But we can’t start looking like boys! PLEASE!"

Mom gets a little paler and says, “You boys…girls…kids stay here. I have to call work and have them cancel my appointments for tomorrow–I am already off the rest of today; it was to be a surprise. It looks like the surprise was on me, instead…”

She leaves the kitchen and goes into her office. Brianne looks at me and whispers, “George? What are you doing? You don’t want to be a girl!” I smile wanly and say, “Trust me, Bree. I will go through this with you for a few weeks, just until you get your confidence built up and are well underway. I can then ‘decide’ that I have changed my mind. A few weeks of hormone blockers won’t hurt me…and I will do anything to help you through this…”

Neither of us has a chance to say anything else, because Mom comes back in. Then we have a long talk. Mom also has a degree in psychology, so I know that I won’t be able to pull the wool over her eyes too long, but it only has to be long enough to get Bree taken care of. So, Bree and I show her how we can walk in the heels and sit properly. She can see that we are obviously quite good with the makeup.

After several hours of talking, we have her convinced that we are serious. She seems a bit sad as she makes us take a test online. It is something called a COAGTI and we quickly go through answering the questions. I had read about it while doing my research and know that it is to show your ‘inner’ gender. I answer the questions the way I think a girl would and it doesn’t take long for us to finish. Mom looks at the results and shakes her head. Finally, she calls in some prescriptions to the pharmacy.

She then tells us to stay put and drives off. She comes back about forty-five minutes later with a couple of large Target bags. She pulls out two pairs of girl’s jeans, blouses, panties, socks and flat ‘ballet’ shoes. She tells us to go to our rooms, take off her clothes, and put on just the panties–then come down to her office.

We do as we are told and stand there in front of her in nothing but girl’s panties. I feel really queasy in my stomach, but try not to show it. Brianna looks scared, but like she is about to enter heaven. Mom looks at us both really seriously and says, “OK, ‘girls’. I have some medicine here that will prevent you from turning into ‘boys’ and help you to be the ‘girls’ you seem to want to be. I am only going to give it to you if you assure me one more time that this is what you really want. Also, if it is, I am going to have to insist that you be girls fulltime from this point on. I will set up some other appointments for you for after the first of the year, since I won’t be able to get you in anywhere before then. Until then, you are my daughters–including at school. So, is that what you really want?”

Bree almost melts and oozes out a barely audible, “Yes! Oh, yes, Mommy!” My stomach churns at having to go to school as a girl, but I nod and simply say, “Yes, Ma’am.” Inwardly, I am cringing, but it is to help Bree and it is only for a couple of months; just until after Christmas. How bad can it be? Bree has been feeling like she has been forced into the wrong gender for years. I can do this for her…

Mom… Mommy (I resolve to start calling her that, thinking of her that way, as a daughter would) has Bree bend over and gives her a shot in the rear and then one in the arm. Then she does the same to me. Finally, she gives each of us a pill and tells us to swallow it with a glass of milk. She says, “You will take one of these twice a day–one in the morning with breakfast and one in the evening before bed. The one you just took is your morning one for today even though it is afternoon, you will need to take another before bed tonight.”

Continued in Part 2.