Antonette's Story A novel by Bronwen Welsh Copyright 2020

Chapter 3   I go out as Antonette and find a new school

I don't know if my parents really thought that the novelty of being Antonette would wear off eventually, but as time passed, I'm sure they realised that she was here to stay. I really felt that I was cross-dressing as a boy to go to school and that my real self appeared when I got home and could shed those awful school uniform clothes

About halfway through Harriet's theatre season, something bad happened; her sister Emma rang to say that their mother was in hospital with pneumonia, and she had to rush home to see her. I heard that Harriet had an understudy who took over for her and I couldn't help wondering what would have happened if she hadn't had one. Fortunately, her mummy recovered but I think it was touch and go for a while. I remember praying for her mummy whom I had met when she brought Harriet to our house to see the room where Harriet stayed. I remembered thinking at the time that she was a very nice lady.

After about a week, Harriet came back to resume her rôle. It was about this time that I asked a favour of her and Mummy. While I loved dressing as Antonette at home, it did almost feel like being in prison, and I knew I would love to go out during the day shopping as a girl, even for a short while. I asked Mummy if I could go out dressed, and finally, she agreed if Harriet was willing to take me. Being the kind person she is, Harriet agreed and the following Friday I rushed home from school to change. Harriet had given me tips on how to pass unnoticed. She knew I wanted to wear a skirt, so she suggested my tartan skirt and black opaque tights. A woollen top and boots with two-inch heels completed my outfit, and I put on minimal makeup.

Although I had desperately wanted to go out dressed, I must confess that when I reached the front door, I felt so nervous, with my heart racing, that I very nearly backed out. Harriet didn't try to persuade me, she merely pointed out that the first time was always going to be the most difficult, so I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

As we walked down the street, I asked Harriet if she could hear my heart beating, it sounded like a drum pounding in my ears, but she assured me nobody else could hear it. We stopped at a café just down the road and had a cup of tea. By now I was starting to get a little more relaxed. Harriet had to get back for the evening performance, and it was on the way back that I had a real fright. Three teenage girls were approaching us and I saw them looking at us as we passed. Nothing was said but then a few moments later one of the girls called out “Wait!” and my heart almost stopped. It turned out that Harriet had dropped her purse and one of the girls came back and gave it to her.

Looking back I think Harriet was as shocked as I was! The girl thought she recognised Harriet from having been taken (reluctantly I think) to see the play with the school. I had felt like running, but I was rooted to the spot. Fortunately, after a few words, the girl turned and went back to her friends. Phew! We arrived home without any more incidents and Harriet assured me that next time would be easier.

“I promise you I will keep a tight hold on my purse in future,” she said.

Now that I was getting more competent in makeup, Harriet gave me some masterclasses in eye makeup. My next wish was to have pierced ears so that I could wear a greater range of earrings. Mummy and Daddy were a bit reluctant, even when I assured them that some of the boys at school had gold studs in their ears.

“It would never have happened in my day,” grumbled Daddy.

“Things change, darling,” said Mummy.

Harriet accompanied me to the local beauty parlour and I was again dressed as Antonette. If the staff there noticed anything, they said nothing, I felt a lot more relaxed on this occasion, and felt so proud and so feminine, walking home with gold studs in my ears. The minor discomfort had been well worth it.

I should have mentioned that my older sister Jeanette had visited us and met up with me as Antonette. She was very complimentary and said I was a very pretty girl. When I had time to see her on her own, I thanked her for leaving the clothes behind.

“I know you did it on purpose,” I said.

Jeanette smiled. “It was a bit of a test in a way. If you weren't interested in them, you would have told me I'd left them and the makeup, but when I heard nothing, I knew that you were keeping them. I can't say I was surprised.”

I blushed. “By the way, I have my own makeup now, so would you like yours back, in fact, do you want your clothes back as well?”

“No, you're welcome to keep them,” said Jeanette. I didn't want to insult her by saying that I wasn't using her makeup any more after advice from Harriet; instead, I just thanked her.

“I'm guessing that you've made up your mind to be a girl fulltime?” she said.

“Oh yes,” I replied. “I have to be a boy at school until the end of the school year, but after that, I want to see a doctor and start treatment to be a girl.”

There was one more gymnastics competition before the end of the year. That was one thing I felt rather sorry about as I knew it would be my last competition. I had already discussed with Mummy what would happen when the school year came to an end, namely me seeing a specialist and then hoping that I could go to a new school, this time as a girl. However, I could hardly expect to continue gymnastics as a girl as someone was sure to realise who I was and then there would be all the publicity on whether a nominal boy was allowed to compete in a girls' competition. This was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. Oh well, sacrifices would have to be made.

Finally, Harriet's time in London came to a close. She had obtained another position as understudy for Ophelia in Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' at Stratford-Upon-Avon, which I was very pleased to hear about, although I knew that I was really going to miss her. We had a special farewell dinner for her at home, and the following morning I was up early to see her leave. We hugged and I nearly burst into tears.

“Remember what Shakespeare wrote, 'To thine own self be true',” she whispered in my ear, not realising that my sister Jeanette had said the exact same words to me.

“I will be,” I promised. I held it together until she left, then I went to my room and burst into tears, but that was alright because I was now a girl.

Mummy had made an appointment for me to see our local G.P., who was a lady doctor. I was glad about that, as I had seen Dr Hilary Benson as a boy, and now I was seeing her to tell her I wanted to be a girl. Mummy suggested that I should wear my tartan skirt, opaque black tights with my Mary Jane shoes and a white blouse over my A-cup padded bra. For makeup, I was only using lip gloss. Mummy warned me that I would have to answer some rather embarrassing questions truthfully and would probably have to undergo a physical examination.

“If you don't agree to this, then Dr Benson probably won't be able to recommend any treatment to help you become a girl physically,” she said.

When we walked into Dr Benson's consulting room, I confess I felt very nervous. She asked how long I had felt that I should have been a girl, how long I had been dressing in borrowed girl's clothes, and also, most embarrassing of all, whether I had experienced an erection when I was dressed as a girl. I answered truthfully that yes, I had an erection when I first started to dress as a girl, but now I didn't, I just felt very comfortable dressed that way.

The story of me wearing Jeanette's dress so she could alter it came out, and then the clothes and makeup which she had 'accidentally' left behind when she moved out. Mummy pursed her lips at that revelation. I even had to tell about Harriet seeing me and all that had happened since then.

“This young lady Harriet seems to be very understanding,” said Dr Benson.

“She has a friend who is like me,” I replied. “So she knows what I am going through.”

As Mummy expected, I was asked to go behind a screen, remove all my clothes and lie on a narrow bed for a physical examination. I felt extremely embarrassed about it but reasoned that if I was going to pursue my aim of transitioning to a girl, this might be the first of many such examinations. Dr Benson was very gentle as well as being professional, and the whole ordeal was over in less than ten minutes and I was allowed to dress again.

“Well, Antonette,” she said when I was once more sitting in front of her desk with Mummy, “From my examination of you I have little doubt that you have 'gender dysphoria'. I know that sounds like a terrible disease, but all it really means is that you genuinely believe that you were born into the wrong body. I'm going to refer you to an expert in this area, but you might have to wait for a few months to see him. There are a number of young people who feel the same as you do; most are boys who think they should be girls, but there are also a few girls who wish to be boys.

“In the meantime, I'm going to prescribe you some medication called Aldactone. Since you are fifteen, this will stop you from developing adult male characteristics like facial hair. However, if you should eventually decide that transitioning is not for you, then by stopping the medication, the normal transition to an adult male will start to take place.”

I opened my mouth and she forestalled me. “I know you are going to say that you won't change your mind, but as your doctor, I can't give you irreversible medication until you have seen the specialist and lived as your preferred gender for some time. That's why you can't have hormone treatment yet.”

Mummy said. “Thank you for explaining everything so clearly Dr Benson. There's one other thing I'd like to ask you, although I know it's not really your area; Antonette obviously can't go back to the boy's school where she was studying, but I would like her to finish her schooling. Do you know of any school, I suppose a girls' school would be best, which would be willing to accept her?”

Dr Benson smiled. “Yes, that is a problem for young people in their teens who wish to transition. There is a small private school called Marion Ladies' College in Wood Green who might be able to help you. Why don't you give them a call?”

Mummy thanked Dr Benson and we left, with me clutching my script for the Aldactone. Mummy suggested that after we visited a pharmacy to get the medication, we could have lunch and then do a little shopping. I think she really enjoyed being able to shop with a daughter again. Jeanette was very feminine and loved shopping, but my twin sisters were quite the reverse and had no interest in clothes. Now, unexpectedly, Mummy had another daughter who wanted to shop.

It's often been said that while boys, and some girls as I have mentioned, have no interest in clothes, many girls are very happy to shop, and why not? Girls have so much more choice in what they wear, it's no wonder that they are happy to spend hours trying on clothes before deciding what to buy, and so it was on this particular occasion. Now that Mummy was as certain as I was that I was going to grow up as a girl, she was happy to help me chose more clothes to add to my growing wardrobe, and we had a very enjoyable afternoon.

The next step was a new school for me. Mummy rang Marion Ladies' College and was pleasantly surprised when her explanation of my current status was not met with a flat 'no'. Instead, we were invited to come to the school and meet with the headmistress. She asked that I bring along the exam results which I had received from my old school which I would be pleased to show her because they were quite good.

Mummy and I discussed what I should wear to the interview. We decided that I should look feminine but not 'over the top', so I wore a plain grey skirt, black opaque tights, my Mary Jane shoes, and a white blouse over a camisole and my padded bra. My only makeup was lip gloss. I think both Mummy and I were a bit nervous going to see the headmistress, Miss Vera Nightingale; if she wouldn't accept me, I might have trouble finding a school that would.

We arrived at the school a few days later. The buildings looked modern which was a good start. When we announced ourselves, her secretary asked us to take a seat, and we were only kept waiting a few minutes before a door opened and Miss Nightingale appeared. She was a tall, slim woman in her forties with her black hair pulled back in a bun, but she looked friendly enough.

Once we were seated in her office, she asked Mummy some questions about me, what my current status was, and she seemed pleased to hear about my visit to the doctor and my provisional treatment. We handed over my exam results and she seemed satisfied with what she saw.

Turning to me she said. “Well, Antonette, how do you feel about changing schools this late in your education?”

“I really have no choice, Miss Nightingale,” I replied. “I was attending a boys' school and I certainly couldn't go back there as a girl.”

She smiled. “I'm sure you couldn't. Even if it was allowed, the bullying would be merciless. If you do join us, some of the girls might not treat you too kindly, although I think the majority would, especially when they find out you are genuine in your desire to be a female. There is, of course, the question of the use of toilets and change rooms and we would have to get around that by allowing you to use the staff facilities. I don't think the girls would necessarily mind you using the pupils' facilities, but the parents might have concerns, unfounded though they would be. Now, would you like me to show you around the school?”

This sounded very encouraging, so of course, we agreed. We were informed that the school had only been open ten years, and the facilities were bright and modern. As we were shown around, Miss Nightingale asked me if I had any thoughts yet on what I would like to do after I finished my schooling.

“If I qualify, I would like to go to university and study for a Bachelor of Arts degree, and maybe then take up teaching,” I replied. I really had no idea what I wanted to do, but this sounded like a positive thing to say, and she nodded approvingly.

Returning to her office, Miss Nightingale said that she would be very happy to accept me as a pupil. Mummy was given papers to fill in. I knew that there would be fees involved and I was relieved when she didn't seem to worried when she saw what they were. This school had a uniform, so we were given a list of what should be purchased and the store that sold them, also a list of books I would need. I think both Mummy and I were very relieved when we left the school grounds. The next big hurdle had been jumped.

I am sure that school uniforms for teenagers were, and perhaps still are, deliberately designed to be as ugly as possible and do nothing for the appearance of the wearer. Now that I am older I can understand the reason for that. The mid-teens is the time when both boys and girls realise that they are attracted (generally), to the opposite sex. With their hormones starting to rage, and the fact that they are both fertile, there can be unintended consequences.

The girl's uniform at Marion College consisted of plain white knickers and bras for the older girls, a just below the knee-length woollen skirt in a predominantly grey tartan, opaque grey tights, and an opaque white blouse which did not reveal the plain bra worn underneath. Hair was shoulder-length, worn straight or in a pigtail. No makeup was allowed except a little clear lip gloss. The shoes were black 'Mary Jane' brand with no heels.

Because the uniform included a skirt (this was before the time when girls were allowed to wear trousers in winter for greater warmth), I was happy to wear it, and I could always change into something prettier when I arrived home, so unlike the other girls, as I was to find out, I had no complaints.

To be continued.

Next time: I join two schools