“I’m going to have to wear a bra – to SCHOOL!?

If you think things were going a bit off-the-scale, then you’d be right.

This began as one of my AP-500 pieces. I got one very useful comment about 'why and how' which got me moving and has turned into this continuation. Thanks AP

Back home, wearing my new bra – and feeling MUCH more comfortable with that weight getting proper support. (Actually, NOW I know better and that my breasts at that age and size were quite little. But perhaps it was the psychological weight) ………………….the questions began.

It turned out that it wasn’t as if Mum had been ‘wanting or waiting to turn me into a daughter’ or any of the TS-daughter cliches you get in some of the stories. And yes, my search for explanations had taken me into ‘boys with bras’ and that had taken me to all sorts of stories. Some were quite clever. Some reminded me that too often there was really nasty stuff at TS-TG people even at just TV people who seemed to be put into the same box. Actually no, not nasty, really really vicious illogical stuff from people’s own family, parents, siblings. Nasty. Cruel.

“Was I taking anything?” “No. Nothing except the food you give me.”
“Had I been stealing her pills?” “Do I look stupid?”
Was I taking anything to make me ‘more macho’?" “No. Definitely no.”
“Do you feel girly.” “No. Not at all.”

Mum was still unusually calm. I’d expected her to go ballistic. She’s been blunt enough about her feelings on gays and lesbians. Perhaps a bit less acid on ‘those who can’t help it’ but -wow- her feelings towards what she called ‘preying perverts latching on to vulnerable youngsters’.

Then there began a raft of questions on my social life. Who, When, Where. You’d have almost got the idea she was accusing me of being a ‘vulnerable youngster consorting with ‘things like that’.

It came out a lot later why she was less anti to the TS-TG package. She’d been a tomboy for ages, until nearly 16 or even 17. There’d been a group of them, boys and girls, pretty well mixed and treating each other hugely as ‘people’. She said ‘with us, sex never really got going, never knew why. But we stayed relaxed about it for years past our age-equals. Then it all went wrong’. That – she never spoke about. I guessed that it was an outsider who broke down their barriers and …… even you can guess that story.

Mum was really pushy. “Have you worn girl’s clothing before?” Of course not. I’m only wearing this stuff because you told me to and a boy buying a bra is kind-of unusual. So your idea was sensible. But I’m not doing this girlstuff unless I have to.”

“So you have some plan, eh, to make those go away? I can’t say this is something that has even been on my agenda. But, being blunt, you have tits. Tits need bras. QED You need bras. Therefore you now have several."

"But what about school? I can’t wear a bra to school. I’d be beaten up. The bullies and anti-freaks would have a field day. Member of the First cricket squad – wearing a bra. It ain’t going to look good."

"Oh sweetie."

(AP note 500 to here; I’m keeping going!)

"Don’t ‘oh sweetie’ me. I need help just to live through the next few weeks."

“Oh, well, yes. Of course. But that’s short-term. We’ve got to look at the long-term. See some specialists and maybe a shrink too. Not that you’re nuts, merely we need to get you to a professional who’s met more than just one like you and several parents like me. We’re going to need help. And a sports bra too!"

“What about cricket? Can you do your stuff in a sports-bra. Almost whatever you do, it’s going to show up. Then there’s showers. And the stories of the mucking about.”

"I’m going to have to bite the bullet. If I want to play, and I do, then I’ll have to find some sort of ‘medical issue’."

"Just an idea – but why not talk to a local ladies cricket team. Starting at the top, there’s now a county team that practise at the Town Ground. They’ll know how to play in a bra. They don’t have a choice – and they’ll be able to give you some advice at least."

That was one of mum’s better ideas. Actually, it turned out that few of the cricket-girls had any special ideas apart from ‘Make sure it fits’ and ‘Buy several as they don’t last’. I’d gone along as a reasonable facsimile of a girl – in a sundress anyway, so perhaps they thought my questions were just as one girl to others. But later I got chatting with a couple of them. The two I got talking to, Patsy and Annabel, said ‘We can tell that you’re not, um, a real girl because you’re showing a bit of beard-shadow”

I went white (suitable for a cricketer) and began to stand up to get away.

Annabel giggled. “Hold on. We’re wanting answers. And we may want to help. Are you trying to talk to us to be pervy – in which case I’m going to rip your dress off, ring the police and chase you around with a cricket bat.”

“No – I’m not pervy. I’m kinda scared. But not of you, if you’ll listen. I’m a guy. A bloke. Who until recently thought I was absolutely 100% bloke-normal. Then I start growing these, erm,

“Boobs, dear, Girls call them boobs. Well I do.”

I’m not quite crying at this point. “I really really need someone to help me here.”

They listened while I told the appalling story of my pair of problems – school and sport.

And this wasn’t even yet the evening of the second day.

“And what are you wanting to ask, kiddo?”

“If, no, when I play cricket – will the other lads be able to see that I’m wearing a bra?”

“Can’t tell a lie – yep. It’s going to show. Black, white, camouflage, lacy,“ giggle“ or sporty – it’s gonna be on show.”

I slumped to the table, putting my head in my hands. As I did so, I bumped my breasts on the edge of the table. “Ow.” And put my hands up to rub them, well it (the right one) gently. and 500 more

“Oh, baby. That kinda proves those are real and, erm, genuine.” She leant over and patted me on the shoulder, then moved closer and hugged me.

“Tricky, isn’t it. You want something, life looks okay, then -BANG-and you’re swerving all over the road and you don’t know what’s going to happen next. Yeah?”

“I might have phrased it differently about my whole life turning into a pile of s-h-1-t – but yes. Truly ‘tis cried aloud ‘Woe, woe, thrice woe. All is doom, gloom and bloody’.”

“Child, if you’re going to quote Frankie Howard, get it right. Though your amendment is quite neat.”

“So – what explanation are you going to go with? Can you delay until you get a chromosome test – if you’re one of the rare ones who isn’t XX or XY ‘cos there are XXYs and so on. Or maybe you’ve got some other chemical medical biological problem that explains things. Personally, I think there’s probably tactical benefits for you being a few percent more macho just to emphasise that having boobs is not making you a sissy, not turning you into a girl. I’d go with it’s rare but it does happen. Say you’ve been shown the research and mislead people a little. Nothing as big as a lie. Say it’s not on the web because of research confidentiality or such.“

“Is research your thing?”

“No. I’ve just spent some time learning how to mislead people – mostly men.” They all grinned.

“Also there’s the ultra-sports-bra option for a week or so. Then let’s hope your medical people come up with a worthwhile explanation – for a school cricketer in the boy’s team to have to wear a bra. “ Patsy smiled.

“So. Go back to your mum. You’re going to have to wear a bra. Pretty soon, you’ll have to wear one for sports and then maybe at school too. Like it or not, and I’ll say ‘not’, those little puppies are getting too obvious to hide. Get a story together. Make it airtight and unarguable – add some macho to balance the accusations of girly and sissy. And come back and tell us how it’s going. And if you do get a lot of hassle from your club, join us. We can set up a new rule that anyone with a bra can play for us. If you need any, um, support from us, then get in touch. You’ve got our emails and so on.”

Annabel was scribbling as Patsy added her bit. Then she read out her scribble, "Woe, woe, thrice woe. Boom, vavavoom, boobies bloom, no womb, new broom, and I can’t yet fit tomb, room, loom or groom. I’m not trying to make you laugh. But point a set of rhyming words at me and I get all excited.”

“That’s all it takes to get you excited, well, well.” Patsy murmured. “I’d never guessed. At best your verse is worse.”

“It’s time to go before you hurl anymore worse verse at me. So, many thanks, you’ve given me some good ideas. But, really, you think I’m going to have to wear a bra – to school?”

“Yes.”

I haven’t a clue what the doctors might find and then suggest. I don’t have a clue why this cricket idea has come from! A lot comes from how the as yet unnamed boy is ‘discovered’ and exactly how it goes with ‘are all mums fortune-tellers’. I just don’t know yet.