“Oh my…”  That’s all she said.  Susan looked worried and asked to follow her in so we could get a good look.  “I’m sure we can re-sell it if this isn’t what you wanted…really…”  Mother opened her door and stood up, looking around at the yard and back at the house.  As I opened my door and got out, she kept looking at the house from one end to the other.  “Oh Susan…this is just beautiful!  Are you sure this is our house?  My goodness…Can we please go in?”   

Susan laughed with a look of relief when Mother spoke again.   

“Oh…I’m so sorry, you said we were going to go in, I just…well I…I guess he…Oh my!”  I hadn’t seen Mother so tongue-tied ever!  A few moments later, we all walked through the front door. 

Inside, the house was like nothing I had ever seen before…except on television maybe, or in some magazines.  The wood floor gleamed and went everywhere.  Huge windows greeted us when we walked in the front door and provided a view of tall green trees, beautiful shrubs, and a huge lawn that almost looked fake.  All together, I think we must have spent a couple of hours with Susan showing us all around the house, and from at least three porches we saw the bulk of the yard surrounding the house.  It was quite a day, and we hadn’t even seen anything else yet. 

Susan told Mother she had already arranged with the movers to bring everything in the next day and that she had a special surprise for us.  “I’ve arranged to have a decorator come in Friday with their folks to get everything placed and help you get things organized the way you want them.  I hope that’s OK with you, I know what a task it is to move across country and then have to spend weeks getting things put away again in a new house and in a new city. ” 

Mother expressed how grateful she was, and how lovely the house was.  “It wasn’t at all what I expected I guess, I had no idea it would be so…well, so beautiful!”  And I giggled a bit and added, “And so big!” 

That afternoon, Susan drove us all around the area, and around downtown Portland to begin to get us familiar with how to get around.  We saw so much that day it’s hard to remember it all.  Portland was …well it was a small city, but it was a big city!  I know it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t know how else to describe it.   

We all went out to dinner that night, and Susan told Mother she would meet us again in the morning to help us drive to the house.  “Only tomorrow, you follow me in your car so you can start getting a feel for the area.”  

The next day, after the three of us enjoyed our breakfast again, we set out to go to our new house.  Mother asked about our car at the front desk, and less than two minutes later, it pulled up in front of the hotel.  Susan pulled in front of our car and waited while we both got in ours.  Less than 15 minutes later, we drove up the drive to our new house, following Susan.  

The moving truck was already there, and several men were waiting.  After all the introductions and confirmation of who everybody was, they started unloading the truck.  As I remember, it only took them about two hours to get everything inside the house, unwrap anything that had been covered, and all the boxes put where Mother had wanted them.  As they cleaned up and put packing materials and furniture blankets back in their truck, Mother signed some papers and they were on the way out the drive.  Susan, Mother, and I stood in the living room staring at all the boxes and chaos…oh my!

Susan just laughed and said not to worry about anything.  As long as we had an idea where we wanted things, her decorator and his crew would make short work of making it look normal again.  “Meanwhile, would you two like to go somewhere for a late lunch?” 

By Saturday morning, the house was settled.  More or less, and Saturday evening Mother had checked us out of the hotel and we were sleeping in our new house. 

The first morning, after I was dressed, I remember looking all through the house for any unopened boxes.  There were none.  I…well, I guess I expected to find some boxes with my…my old clothes in them.  When I figured out there were none, I think I was more relieved than anything.  As we sat having our breakfast, I told Mother about my search and what I finally felt - she just smiled and patted my hand.   

I had grown to like the way I looked like in the mirror, and that Mother was so supportive.  It was what I had dreamed about…and here I was!  It’s sort of funny remembering back about it all.  Then, I still loved opening my dresser drawers to find delightfully shiny, lacy panties and slips.  And those training bras!   Looking into my closet, all I had were dresses and skirts and, lining the floor, all those wonderful petticoats.  Still all sort of a dream at that point. 

I don’t remember when I began to feel truly comfortable walking out the door into plain sight of anyone that might be there.  All the time we had spent with the real estate lady, Susan, I was, for the most part, silent.  Afraid that somehow if I said anything she would realize I was a boy dressed like a girl.  When I did speak, it was quietly and only a few words.  Yes, fear is quite a force to deal with, and as time went by and I became more comfortable and…I guess used to who I had become.  I slowly became less afraid and instead concentrated on learning more and more.   

By September, Mother sat me down one day and asked what I thought about life as her daughter.   I didn’t now exactly how to respond to that question, but I tried.  I had thought about it myself  several times but there was nothing I missed from what I then thought of as my prior life.  It wasn’t like I was an athletic type, so I certainly didn’t miss sports things or any outdoors kind of things boys liked.  And even though I was always being corrected for sitting with my legs apart, I didn’t long to go back to wearing my jeans.  I didn’t like the idea of competing in every little thing!   So…after a long pause, I told her I liked being who I was. 

She smiled and took my hand.  “I’m glad honey, because even though it might be possible for you to go back to being a boy, it would certainly take some innovative thinking to explain your disappearance and the sudden return of David.  Your father’s office, even the school system, has you on their files as our daughter…and most of all, I would truly miss having my daughter with me.

 *    *    *    *

The next week, Mother made an appointment for us both to meet a doctor in the area that had been recommended by my former doctor back east.  With both of us in his office, he inquired about my general state of health and of more importance to him I suspect, my state of mind!  After all kinds of questions and patiently listening to my answers and Mother's comments, he smiled and said it was time to start taking measures to “keep my old self from popping up!” 

He explained that pretty soon, unless I started taking some medications he would recommend, my body would begin trying to change me in ways I might not appreciate, like lowering my voice,  growing hair  where it should not on a girl, muscle tone, body fat distribution, and a host of physical changes which would ‘hinder from my feminine presentation,’ as he put it.  He told us the dangers and possible side effects of the medications, and asked if we both understood.  “Next Monday morning, I’d like you both to come back to see me.  If this is really what you want young man, and you’re comfortable as a girl, and what you and your parents think is best, I’d like to start you on some treatments  right away, OK?”   

Mother and I discussed it several times over the next several days.  She was worried, of course, as was I.  But in the end, she just giggled a little and said I probably would have trouble in school with a beard and base voice in my home economics class.  That next Monday morning, we returned to the doctor’s office and informed him of our discussions and decision.  After that, I learned part of the ‘treatments’ involved shots!

Once a month, for the first six months, I would get a shot from him.  And every day, I was to take one pill for which he gave us a prescription.  “The shot will keep your male hormones from taking over.  The pills will sort of ‘punch up’ your female hormones to help them win out in the end.  Bet you didn’t know you have female hormones did you?  Every male does and, every female has male hormones.   In men,  it’s just that the male hormones control everything.  What we’re doing is just changing the order of who’s in charge.”   

Reassuring words, but as I found out later, there were some…side effects!   For the first several months, nothing really seemed different.  Well, not to me anyway.  But Mother later confided to me I had become more moody or, as she put it, ‘bitchy.’  

Dealing with school during that period would have been…well, impossible.  Maybe not impossible, but a lot more complicated I think.   Mother had arranged for me to receive private schooling in our home.  It was highly unusual, but she told me later she told everyone I had a medical condition and should not be around large numbers of people for a while.  I don’t think that’s exactly what she said, but whatever it was, it worked.  Thank goodness! 

By December, the side effects of mood swings and cranky behavior started to taper off  and Mother was grateful.   Other things started to happen…subtle things.  Then, one day I mentioned to Mother that my chest was tender and…sore.  She looked at my chest in the morning and smiled.  “Honey, it’s …You’re just starting to…oh dear…don’t be too surprised….you’re starting to develop breasts!  It will take time, but sure enough, that‘s what it looks like to me.  I certainly hope you’ve gotten used to your training bras.”   

Huh?