Christopher To Christina: An Answered Prayer

1. A Tortured Life

I was of the tender age of nine years old when my life miraculously shifted from from a hell to heaven.

I was a short kid, and what some called "as big around as he was tall," which was a rude way of saying I was chunky or chubby or as one kid would just come right out and say, "a heaping fat tub of lard." 

I was also shy, weak, and not aggressive; and the other boys picked on me mercilessly, called me names, made fat jokes, humiliated me.

Some of them even physically bullied me: they threatened me, hit me, beat me up, stole my lunch money, and regularly kicked me between the legs for the sheer joy of getting to see me curled up in fetal position on the ground, writhing in pain with tears in my eyes while they stood around and laughed.

School was a nightmare for me, and even my own neighborhood was hell.  I used to come home in tears almost every day, until finally I couldn't take it any more and rarely left our house except for school, which was unfortunately unavoidable. 

For companionship I only ever played with a girl that lived right next door, never any of the neighborhood boys.

It was during the summer before my tenth birthday, when one evening my mother sat me down and asked me the question that would change my life.

She was embarrassed, and very ill at ease, and it took her a long time to get to the point.  But here, in brief, is what she said:

"Christopher, you've had such a terrible time living here, and I feel so sorry for you.  If I had ten dollars for every time you've come home in tears, we would be able to buy a new place in a new town, and move away from all of this, but I'm afraid even if we did, that might not solve all your problems. You'd probably encounter the exact same things there. 

"I've been trying to figure out some way of protecting you, to keep this from happening over and over and I've only been able to think of one possibility."

She hesitated, then continued, "You used to play with Susan next door until they moved.  Do you remember . . . the, the day you were playing with Susan and she put you in one of her dresses?"

"Yeah, Mom, I do, but that was her idea. I never..."

"Oh no, that's not a problem, sweetheart.  Yes, I caught the two of you, both of you in dresses and playing with her baby dolls, pretending to breastfeed them.  But you know, what I remember most about that afternoon? Not so much your embarrassment when you realized I was watching you, but how peaceful and content you were before you saw me. Yes, you were upset with me, but I had been watching you for almost ten minutes, and up until the moment you noticed me you just seemed . . . Well, I can't remember a time when you looked so serene.

"What you also didn't know was that I knew it wasn't the only time you guys had done that. There were two other occasions when I watched you contently playing with Susan while wearing one of her dresses."

"Well, we were sort of...."  I trailed off, at a loss for the right word.

"Relaxed?  At ease together?  I thought you were.  I liked watching the two of you.  You seemed so calm and happy, the only time I ever saw you happy except when you were home here with me.  And . . . I don't know, I - I've been thinking about this, but still it sounds so crazy when I think about it . . . Don't get mad at me when I say this or shut down, but . . . I - I wonder . . . have you ever wondered what your life might be been like if you were a girl?"

Wait, did she know? How could she know? I'd never told anyone, not even Susan, that I had wondered, a lot. In fact, I belived my life would have been 1000 times better, if inly id been born a girl. 

I'd better explain this, so you don't get the wrong impression.  I didn't dislike being a boy.  I didn't dislike having a boy's body.  At nine, I still had only the vaguest notion of the physical difference between boys and girls, but if I had known more, I would have wanted to keep those boy parts--at least back then.

But I hated the life I had to live as a boy. I hated how I never fit in, how I was picked on, bullied, made fun of, and how miserable I was as a result of that.

I hated the insane, compulsive machismo.  The nearly constant teasing, and violence from other boys. I had noticed it was only other boys that they did this to, boys that didn't fit into their cool athletic club. They had a disdain for every kind of activity except athletics. They had the mindset that most adults had as well, boys were expected to be strong, fit, and play sports. I was not only fat, but I also hated sports.

I hated everything about sports, especially the running, people expecting you to be skilled at it, and  to be outside sweating for hours on end. Actually, I had come to hate all the expectations of me as a boy and all the bullying as a result of me not measuring up to those roles.

Yes, sometimes, on really bad days, I would go to bed and think about how much better I thought my life would have been if I had been born a girl. Some nights I would even pray to God, begging him to take away all my misery and the only way I could see that happening was by making me into a girl.  

I was actually praying for relief from the masculine stereotyping and abuse that tormented me, that's all I wanted. Back then, it actually nothing to do with wanting to be an actual girl.

It wasn't so much not being a boy as not having to live up to the expectations being foisted on me as a boy. 

Nevertheless, I think it's significant that the only solution I saw was to retreat into a fantasy world where none of those pressures and expectations concerned me, a world where none of those things were expected of me.

It was a wonderful place to be, there in my dreams. No one picked on me for not being athletic or manly enough. No one physically abused me for their own sadistic fun. People left me alone and let me be. In that world I had been born female. It's what I imagined every night lying in bed and the relief I prayed to God to provide.

So I answered Mom's question honestly and told her, Yes, I had thought of it and sometimes wished for it.

"It's been so awful that sometimes in my prayers I beg God to let me escape all of this. I know he can do it. He has the power to turn me into a girl," I told her.

Her eyes widened.  "So you're saying when you put on Susan's clothes, you like it?"

Ever since my father died, Mom and I had been very close.  Most boys would have been petrified if their moms had confronted them like this, but we were always on such easy terms, I simply nodded and said, "Yes, I feel like all the pressures and expectations of being a boy and the physical and emotional pain of the bullying can no longer hurt me when I'm in a dress."

"I think that's exactly what would happen if your prayers came true. I'm so glad to hear you say that. Here's what I've been wrestling with for several weeks, worrying you wouldn't be open to it, but now I see my worries were for naught. "

Mom's face lit up with a smile as she continued talking in a loving, soothing, comforting tone of voice.

"I've been offered a new job in Colorado, and I've accepted it. What that means is we're going to be moving halfway across the country, to a place where nobody knows us. A place we're no one knows we're a mother/son family.

"You see, it's an opportunity for you to make a fresh start, if you want to. A really fresh start. A new life. I'm wondering whether this might be a good time for you to try living as my daughter instead of my son. It would solve so many of your problems.

"You know I love you, Christopher, and I love you for who and what you are. But I can't stand seeing you so miserable. Maybe if I could help
you become a girl--if I could grant that prayer of yours--It doesn't even have to be for good, I mean it could just be temporarily, just until you graduate high school, if you want. If you did it just during those years when boyhood can be so nasty, maybe you would grow into a happier person afterward.  Not scarred for the rest of your life by all that nastiness. It would give you the opportunity to escape the pressures and pain you're feeling now and free you up to enjoy life. No one should have to experience what you currently go through and this would help. I do so want you to be happy."

You see what I meant about a change from hell to heaven, even if I didn't know just how much, yet.