Only A Girl For Halloween - Part 2 (Patreon)

PART 2 | ALL STORY LIST

The evening of Friday, 14 November.

Talk about a stressful two weeks!

I tried to not let the decision get to me, but as the deadline drew nearer, I started to panic.

What to do!?

After the first week, everyone noticed that I was not myself–regardless of which gender. I was preoccupied and asked lots of strange questions without giving any reasons why.

I asked almost every girl I know about the details of their lives and what they felt about them. What do they like about being a girl? What are the downsides? Would they rather be a boy? Why or why not?

I gathered the varied responses and sifted through the information only to come to the conclusion that girls are generally happy to be girls, though they do envy a few things about boys. My much faster experience with being a boy tells me that boys are similarly happy with their lot. So the choice will not be one of which has the best deal–they are equal–but which would I rather be? It's a matter of preference or inclination.

Another new experience thrown into the first week was the advent of my very first period. Of course, it had to happen in school. And in the early part of the day. How embarrassing. After borrowing feminine hygiene products from Jessica, I had to make a quick trip home to change. I should have known that it wasn't indigestion that I'd had that morning. I was happy to see it end a few days later. I got LOTS of advice from Mom, Helen, Jessica, and all the other girls I know. Apparently, getting a period is some sort of rite of passage. By the way, periods are something that almost every girl I interviewed said they could do without.

I spent a lot of time watching social interactions too. How do guys interact among themselves? How do girls interact with each other? How does a boy interact with girls and vice versa? I'm not a sociologist, but I did learn a few things. I wish that I knew more.

I didn't come any closer to my decision through observing social interactions.

I spent a fair amount of time 'shopping at the mall with my girlfriends. I observed them and how I interacted with them. I thought I'd learn something about myself in the process. I watched what boys were there at the mall also. Not much to learn there. Gloria has always had an eye for the boys. George has always had a vision for the girls.

I must have watched a dozen or more chick flicks and half a dozen action/adventure films to see what rings true to me. I think I learned a lot about stereotypical behaviors and attitudes, but I couldn't really make use of the information. When I'm Gloria, I really relate to the girls in the films–no matter what type of film. I'm pretty sure that I viewed them differently when I was George.

It seems a bit biased to be doing this research while being Gloria. Everyone knows that I really like being a girl when I'm Gloria.

After doing all the research, I had an evening alone with my parents to talk. They still refused to take a stand but asked me lots of questions about my thoughts and feelings. Mom did let slip, however, that they had been expecting a girl when I was born; no one had ever mentioned that to me before. All the prenatal ultrasounds had shown that a girl was on the way. It was a surprise to them when I came out a boy. I'm not sure what to do with that tidbit of information, but it seems to be good to know.

My discussions with my parents didn't bring me any closer to a decision either.

Am I going to have to flip a coin?

The Next Morning,

The morning of Saturday, 15 November

It is still dark out when I find myself standing on Mrs. Jackson's porch, illuminated by her porch light. As I raise my hand to knock, the door quietly swings open before my knuckles connect with it. Mrs. Jackson's voice calls me happily to join her in the parlor.

Candles, again, light the entry and the parlor. The Halloween decorations, however, are gone. Mrs. Jackson is standing in the middle of the parlor wearing quite a pretty knee-length grey wool A-line skirt and a shimmery light-periwinkle silk blouse. She is waiting for me with a very pleased expression on her face.

"Gloria," she smiles kindly, "it is so good of you to come to visit with me again. We really should do this more often, you know."

She guides me over the couch, and we sit together slightly turned to face one another, she holding my hands in hers.

"My dear," she begins, "I see that you've had a rough go of it this time around. Sorry about the period, but I think you needed to have that experience before making your decision. It really isn't all that bad when you think about what it says about a woman–that she can bring life into the world.

"Anyway, dear, I take it that you haven't made up your mind yet. Am I right?"

I stare at her, thinking that she must be able to read minds. Maybe that crystal ball in the corner is the real deal, and she's been watching me through it.

"Yes, dear," she smiles while reading my expression–or maybe my mind. "I try not to be too intrusive, but I have been watching you with great interest these past two weeks. It has been most fascinating how you have approached your dilemma. I am quite impressed. You've taken this choice very seriously."

"So," I ask warily, "do you know what decision I am to make?"

"Oh, heavens no," she exclaims. "That's the fun of it. I've been betting against myself the past two weeks, and the odds have constantly shifted. It's been great fun. I can hardly wait to hear what you are going to do. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I admit.

"Now, now," she says, giving my hands a gentle squeeze, "you have to do something. The default is to return to George, but I think that you should make a conscious choice either way. That way, there'll be no regrets."

"It's a momentous decision," I point out.

"Is it really?" she asks me. "And why is that? After all, I honestly think that you can be happy either way. So why does it matter?"

"Well," I admit, "I'm not really sure, but I think that I need to be who I was meant to be and seek happiness as him or her."

"And who do you think you were meant to be?" she asks.

I've been thinking about this one. While I have been living my life primarily as a boy for the past sixteen years, something that my mother said has really stuck with me. According to the doctors, I was expected to be a girl at birth, but I was born a boy. If Mrs. Jackson changed that, then I've only indeed been myself when I've been Gloria. This might explain why it has felt so right and why I occasionally yearn for it when in George mode.

"Who was I meant to be born as?" I ask her.

She claps her hands together in delight and exclaims, "Bravo, Bravo. Well done, Gloria. You really are a bright young lady. But tell me, why are you asking this question?"

"I think," I explain, "that what you really did was change my gender just before birth and that I've only been my true self each year at Halloween."

She positively beams as she replies. "Exactly, my dear girl. I knew you would figure it out."

"But why?" I ask.

"Oh, dear," she looks apologetically at me as she grasps my hands again in hers. "I've always been curious about nature vs. nurture questions. My lack of control over my temper, which resulted from your father's carelessness, prompted me to do something about it in your case. After all, if I was going to punish your parents, I should at least learn a few things in the process. You were a little experiment of mine. Sorry about that. But I learned a lot, and I think that you have to."

"What did you learn?" I ask her.

"I learned," she replied, "that the body combined with nurture can have a strong influence. You are a girl put in a boy's body and raised as a boy. You adjusted well, but not as completely well as a natural boy. I am surprised, actually, at how well you adjusted. I'll admit that I did similar experiments a long time ago where the subject did not adapt so well. I need to spend some more time talking with you to determine why that is. Hopefully, we can visit more to talk about this. It will take some time.

"I think that you'll find that you've learned a lot too. Sure, you missed your girlhood, but there are not many girls who have so much insight into the world of men–the poor unfortunate souls. You should have the tools to avoid the stupid mistakes that we women often make about men, or at least I hope so."

"So," I conclude with relief, "I'm really a girl?"

"Yes, my dear," she replies with a happy smile. "You are."

This makes the decision much more straightforward, though I have to admit that I've been leaning that way more times than not.

"Then that's what I'll be," I say with relief.

The Next Morning,

The morning of Sunday, 16 November,

I can smell the aroma of cooking bacon wafting up the stairs to the bedrooms. It's a great smell to wake up to on a Sunday morning. Of course, I was actually awakened by what sounded like a small herd of elephants running down the stairs moments before. The herd was just my brothers racing to breakfast, drawn by the same delectable smells.

Wrapping a dressing robe around me, I follow the herd at a much more leisurely pace.

"Good morning," I greet everyone as I wander into the kitchen.

Mom and Dad smile and return the greeting while the rest stare at me in stunned silence. I had told my parents my decision yesterday, but I had left the others in the dark as they didn't know that there was a choice to make.

"What?" I ask, pulling a strand of my long hair in front of my face. "Did my hair turn green in the night?"

"Where's George?" Jeff asks. "Didn't you change back?"

"Guess not," I reply offhandedly. "Guess you're stuck with me."

"Ah, man," Bill groans. "I was hoping for George. We were going hiking today."

"I can still hike," I huff in reply.

"Yeah," Jeff adds, "but you're still a girl. This was going to be a guy trip."

"Well then," I turn to Helen, "since the boys don't want me, how about helping your little sister acquire her own wardrobe this afternoon?"

"Do you think that you're going to stay a girl now?" she asks in surprise. "Don't you think you'll be changing back to George?"

"No," I smile at her. "I have it on good authority that I'm now Gloria permanently. I think I'd like to spend some time today bonding with my big sister."

"You bet," she enthusiastically agrees as she gives me an enthusiastic hug.

The boys seemed genuinely disappointed. I think that they really liked their big brother and will miss him.

Mom volunteers to come shopping too. It's a good thing as we'll need her credit card.

Dad will take the boys hiking.

A quick call to Jessica results in an expansion of our shopping expedition. As word gets out that I am now a permanent girl, we find that others want to join in the fun of welcoming me to the sorority.

We have a great afternoon, and I have the start on my own wardrobe. It tends to be more feminine than either my mother's or sister's wardrobe. The majority of the clothes are skirts and dresses. I think we've got a year's worth of pantyhose and stockings to go with them. I also get my ears pierced. The girls each get me a new pair of earrings, bracelet, hair clip, or feminine bangle to celebrate my new birth. And don't forget shoes I have my first pair of heels!

Mom made me a salon appointment for after school tomorrow–my Gloria's hair has always needed attention, but we've never gotten it done because of Gloria's short life. I definitely want some style and some highlights.

I am so jazzed about the day that I'll probably not get to sleep in like forever tonight.

I am so looking forward to next Halloween. Jessica and I are already talking about next year's costumes. There is no doubt that mine will be uber girly. Halloween will always be my time to declare my femininity.

Halloween will forever be my favorite holiday.

It is when I became me.