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ANDREW'S DIARY

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I was often mistaken for a boy when I was around 12. I would wear t-short and shorts a lot and I basically looked like a fat 12-year-old boy. Old people would ask my parents what their sons name was. Little kids would ask me why a boy like me would wear a dress.People would give me funny looks and sometimes stop me from going t to the toilets because they thought I was going into the wrong one.

Secretly I was proud of it, but I hated the embarrassment of people stopping me and having to explain to them that I was actually a girl.I was so self-conscious about my looks and body because of it. I dreaded going in public places because I knew thered be someone that would say someone to me and embarrass me. Thats one reason why I wore mainly dresses when I was teenager: I didnt want people to get confused.

I went on a camp one holiday. It was designed for disadvantaged children around Victoria but our town just let any kid go. The camp was for both girls and boys.

Before each meal, we had to line up in our separate sexes. Nearly each day I was given funny looks from the girls and I didnt really know why. Each day I lined up in the girls line as I thought I should, until one day a leader asked me to line up in my proper line with the rest of the boys. I was so ashamed.

When we were leaving, the leaders were saying goodbye. There was one leader who was everyones favourite. He came onto our bus and said goodbye to everyone individually. Each girl got a kiss on the cheek and each boy got a handshake. I waited for my kiss. The leader kissed the girl in front of me, the girl beside me, turned to me; looked at me and shook my hand gingerly.

Thats when I hated the way I looked. I hated the fact that people didnt know which sex I was. It hurt and I was teased a lot.

As soon as I got home from that camp, I got a doctors appointment to see what I could do about my facial hair.I liked my very light mustache personally, but I was so sick of people laughing at me or embarrassing me.

What happened at the camp opened my eyes to what was happening and how easily for it was for me to pass as an early teenage boy despite my breasts. I liked it. I liked the idea of being a boy, but I wasnt a boy. I was a girl.

So, I started making an active part to make myself look more female. I wanted to become more feminine looking since had female genitalia, thus I was a female and it would be easier for me to be female than male at that point.

I went on the pill to get rid of the facial hair and the very painful cramps I was getting with my periods. I also started wearing dresses almost exclusively. No one would miss take me for a boy and embarrass me anymore (apart from the little kids with loud mouths).

But it didnt seem to work for very long. It felt very wrong and very weird. 

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