A summer spent with the girls at a fashion and sewing camp gives a boy a chance to discover his authentic self in a supportive environment.

I was sitting on a bench in the schoolyard with my friends Jenny and Patti watching a bunch of boys aggressively kicking a soccer ball into the wall.

“School will be out in two weeks and I am not looking forward to summer.”

Jenny touched my hand and looked concerned. “What’s the problem?”

“You and Patti told me you are going to spend all summer attending a day camp where girls sew and learn about fashion. What am I going to do when you are there? I certainly do not want to hang out with those stupid boys. They are a bunch of bullies who are always causing trouble. I will miss being with you girls.”

Rachael, the class queen bee, sauntered up as I was speaking. She enjoyed making me feel uncomfortable with her gentle put-downs and teasing.

“Madison Lynn, I heard what you said. I think you are the most awesome person in our class. Notice that I did not say ‘boy;’ you are too artistic, gentle and caring to be a real boy! Your friends are all girls. Most of the time you act like any other girl.”

I cringed at the sound of my name. For reasons of her own my mother chose a first name that now a days is usually given to girls. Worse, when combined with our family name and spoken fast it sounded almost like ‘Madeline.”

“Leave him alone. Madison is our BFF, just not a boyfriend,” replied Patti in my defense. “He just recognizes that girls like us have better personalities and are more fun to be with than middle-school boys.

Rachael gave a devious smile. “Maybe our friend would enjoy Ms. Reed’s fashion and sewing camp.”

As usual, Jenny and Patti excitedly began to encourage me. “Sounds like a great idea. Madison always used to enjoy playing dress-up with us. He could spend the whole summer doing girly things with us and be away from those bullies over there.”

“How about it, Madison? It will be a lot of fun. We learn practical skills and get to pick a design and sew a custom-fitted outfit that we will present at a closing fashion show.”

“I know there is still space available. Ask your mother if she will sign you up.”

“What will everyone else at the camp think about a boy being there? That will be awkward. ”

“Awkward for who? We are all perfectly fine with you learning to sew with us. You just need to make an effort to fit in the girls. Besides, you will have your best friends there to support you.”

“And you will get to make friends with a lot of girls from other schools.”

“People who know me will find out what I am doing with my summer.”

“Why do you care about that?”

“Patti, you know how your father tells me that I should not be hanging out with you and Jenny. I get nasty remarks every time he sees me at your house. What will he say about my being at camp with you?”

“It’s none of his business.”

“What about my sewing an outfit?”

“We all will be sewing pretty dresses! Maybe Ms. Reed can come up with something else for you, or you probably can help the rest of us with projects.”

“Be brave and do what you enjoy,” Rachel chimed in. “I think you really want to be a girl, but are too afraid to say so.”

That last taunt hit home. Yes, I often wished I was a girl, but was always embarrassed to talk about my secret. I wanted to go to the sewing camp, but as usual I did not want to sound too enthusiastic. “Well, the camp does sound like fun, but what makes sewing clothes a girl thing? A lot of men work as tailors, and some famous fashion designers are men.”

Nancy had been sitting quietly nearby. “This all sounds crazy. Madison wants to go to sewing camp because he does not want to spend summer with the boys. Meanwhile my mother forces me to go to sewing camp because she says I am too much of a tomboy and am always hanging out with my brother and his friends.

“I would much rather play football instead of spending my summer sewing some stupid frilly dress.”

“Dresses are not stupid and frilly,” I replied. Then I realized how loaded my remark was. “I mean …”

“You mean what?” Nancy shot back. “You probably think it’s OK when boys like Alex Consani work as fashion models wearing dresses.”

“Calm down Nancy,” said Jenny trying to defuse the situation.

Rachael took charge as always. “Maddi Lynn is a unique and wonderful person. Remember the times we all played dress-up with the clothes in my closet? He always looked fabulous. Nancy is just jealous.”

At his Nancy stormed off and the conversation with my friends continued.

“There will be a lot of girls there that I will be meeting for the first time. How will they react?”

“Maddi, it’s going to be OK. You will be with us, and we will be there to support you.”

“You have always been way too self-conscious about doing girly things in public.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? For years I have gotten endless criticism from boys and from male teachers at school. ‘Boys don’t skip rope.’ ‘Boys don’t play hopscotch.’ ‘Boys don’t practice dance moves when listing to pop songs.’ It goes on and on.”

“And there is absolutely nothing wrong with a boy doing any of those things; let them have their gender-role prejudices.”

“Patti, how many times has your father said that I should be playing with boys instead of hanging out with you and Rachael?

“We already talked about that. Ignore what men like him say about you.”

“I wish I could ignore them, but …”

“Sewing camp will be a time to be yourself and you can act however feels right.”

Eventually I accepted the inevitable. “OK, I will ask mom.”

That evening, over dinner I got up the courage to ask about attending sewing camp with my friends. To my surprise Mother seemed like she had expected my question.

“I am all for it, dear. I was worried about what you would do this summer. Remember how those neighborhood boys bullied you last year? If you go to sewing camp I know you will be safe doing something educational with your friends.”

“Are you OK with my spending the summer sewing feminine fashions with a bunch of girls?”

“Why not? You always seem happiest when you are with Jennifer and Patti. Besides, you have always enjoyed doing feminine things. It was only a few years ago that you and your friends were still playing with dolls. You will spend your days away from men and boys and free to act like the other girls.”

I caught that ‘other girls’ language. Sometimes it seems that mom thinks of me as a girl.

“What will the neighbors think?”

“Well, first we do not have to tell them unless you want to. Second, they already see you hanging out with Jenny, Patti, and other girls. Third, people in this town are very accepting of diversity, especially if told the truth.

“Maddi, sometimes I wonder what will happen when you get older, but enjoy this summer. We can worry about your teen years later.”

I few days later Mom and I headed over to register for the sewing camp. We parked in front of a group of former retail stores that had been repurposed as a base for arts studios and crafts-related businesses including one with a sign “Reed’s Sewing” and below it “Fabricating Fun Ferocious Feminine Fashion.” Ms. Reed greeted us enthusiastically when we walked into the office.

“Good to meet you in person after talking on the phone. So this is the charming boy who wants to be in my summer sewing camp? Does he know what the camp is like? If not I can explain everything. But first, tell me about Madison. When you called and said you wanted to register Madison I just assumed you were referring to a daughter. Start with how you picked such a creative name?”

“I am a single mother by choice so I had no husband interfering with the baby’s name, or for that matter with anything that happened afterward. I had read books on gender-neutral parenting and my girlfriends were all excited about the idea of allowing a child to develop their own identity.”

This is going to get embarrassing I thought. I started to examine the fashion model pictures that covered the wall to distract myself from a tale I had heard before. The girls in the pictures all looked so elegant and feminine; figure-flattering dresses, flawless hair, sophisticated makeup. After a while I looked more closely at their faces and realized they were all close to my age but the makeup gave them a more mature presentation. It was definitely not the “tween-casual” appearance of Jenny and Patti. On the other hand Rachael sometimes came close to looking like what I was seeing in the pictures.

“There were no boys his age in our neighborhood so he played almost exclusively with girls during his preschool years. He was picked on and called a sissy whenever I took him to a playground where there were some boys; it was never a happy experience.

“One of his preschool friends, Jennifer Kline, is still his BFF and encouraged him to sign up for this summer program. He spends most of his time with Jenny and her circle of friends.”

“Does Madison ever show any anxiety about his gender?”

Oh no! I could see where this conversation was going.

“The boys at school bully him when they see how much he enjoys being with the girls. He also gets negative comments from adult men about his appearance and behavior. Lots of ‘act like a boy’ remarks even when he is doing something totally innocent. I always try to be supportive and reassuring, but I am afraid social pressures have made him think that femininity is something to be ashamed about. It doesn’t stop him, but he is cautious at school and in public.”

“So Madison has a lot of feminine interests but he is uncomfortable with the social pressures regarding gendered behavior?

“Yes, definitely. There have been many days when he came home upset about what someone said to him. Occasionally Madison has actually said that life would be easier if he had been born a girl. He has never claimed to be transgender or anything like that, but we often discuss the recent politics about gender care for minors and about biological boys in girls’ sports. The culture wars have not helped his emotional state.”

Ms. Reed grinned and stared at me. “I think that my summer camp will be a good experience. He will have a chance to be in a totally feminine environment without the unwanted influences that he experiences at school. We both should give him non-judgmental support and see what happens. He may just decide to blossom.”

Blossom? Was that a code word? This conversation was really getting intense. I was afraid that I would be asked some probing personal questions that I was not ready to answer.

I finally relaxed as mother signed the forms and took out her credit card. I had to initial some agreement boxes and did not read all the fine print on the registration form. I had been terrified that Ms. Reed would have a “girls-only” policy or just think I was weird. Instead, she seemed to think my attending camp was a neat idea. I started to anticipate what the summer would be like.

Jenny and Patti would definitely be my support team. Rachael would likely give me some teasing, but in a good-natured way that would prod me toward acting more like a girl. Nancy would be snarky and probably would take every opportunity to complain about being in sewing camp. There would be a lot of girls who I had never met and I just hoped they would all be accepting. I would have to avoid the boys from school as much as possible. Overall, it did not seem too bad.

“Time to go, dear. Are you enjoying the pictures you have been staring at?”

“Madison, those pictures are from previous camps. Almost everyone signs up for a professional photo shoot where they can present their sewing project while wearing full makeup.” Ms. Reed looked right at me, “Would you like to have your picture up there too.”

“It will be entirely up to Madison to be that brave.” mother gushed.

Was there a ‘boy option?’ Posing for a fashion photo shoot with feminine hair and makeup sounded like a lot more than just ‘non-judgmental support.’ The glamor photos seemed to be a rite of passage for everyone participating in the camp. Was that something I wanted to do?

Jenny, Patti and I all lived within walking distance of each other so our mothers worked out a carpool schedule to drive us to the sewing camp. The first week was my mother’s turn. Jenny showed up for her ride just as I was sitting down to breakfast wearing denim blue jeans and a dark tee shirt.

“Eek, there is no way you are going to a fashion camp looking like that! You will be meeting a lot of new girls today and first impressions are important. Let’s go to your room and find something more appropriate.”

Mother was generally cool about girls being in my bedroom. The only rule was to keep the door fully open.

Jenny started going through my clothes and kept muttering about the limitations of my wardrobe. First she settled on a pair of tight-fitting tan shorts with a two-inch inseam. Next she found my one lavender pastel tee shirt.

“These look more stylish than the baggy knee-length shorts that boys usually wear. How come I have never seen you in these clothes before?”

“Patti had talked me into buying those things but then I was too embarrassed to wear the outfit in public.”

Jenny tossed the top and shorts to me and I modestly turned around before changing.

“This looks much better than what you started with, Madison. It will be a warm day and you do not want to cover up all your skin. If you want, you can tie a knot in the bottom hem of your shirt and it will look more like a crop top. Lots of girls wear shirts that way.”

“I think I will just leave it loose and over my shorts for now. OK?”

We got into the car and headed off. Jenny kept chatting about the fun we were going to have while I kept getting more and more nervous. Finally we arrived and I walked into a room full of giggling girls.

Nancy marched up and confronted me. “I told everyone that there would be a boy in our sewing camp and they all think I am joking. I guess they will read you for the sissy f….”

“Watch your language, tomboy,” interjected Jenny.

Just then a girl that I did not know walked up and looked me over. “With that shirt and shorts it is hard to be sure, but I think you must be the boy I heard about.” She paused and smiled. “Cute.”

Rachael heard her and immediately started to assert herself. “This is my friend Madison who is a very special boy. If anyone gives him a hard time they will have to deal with me too. Let’s all make Madison feel welcome.”

I started to circulate around the room, introducing myself, and trying my best to fit in. Slowly a crowd gathered around me and I was getting fewer questions and more compliments on my decision to be there.

The bell rang and Ms. Reed came out of her office. “Girls, quiet down and pay attention. Madison, that includes you. I am not going to waste time saying ‘boy and girls’ or anything like that. ‘Girls’ means everyone.

“Today is the beginning of our full-summer fashion and sewing camp. If you all make an effort you will make new friends, develop skills, and impress everyone at the closing show.

“This week you girls will start with basics, practice hand sewing, and learn about both clothing styles and textiles. Those of you who have done sewing before will find this familiar, but the pace will quickly pick up. Soon you will be able to use a pattern to cut even delicate fabrics to the right size and shape and become proficient in using a sewing machine to put the pieces together.”

“Sounds dumb to me,” grumbled Nancy. “It sounds so retarded that maybe a boy can follow the instructions.”

Rachael put her down. “Madison belongs here as much as you do – tomboy Nancy.”

The morning went swiftly and Ms. Reed poured out a rapid-fire flow of information and technique demonstrations. All the girls started helping each other and showing off their progress. Chatting and interacting was clearly encouraged by Ms. Reed and this made it much more fun than sitting at a desk in school.

“Madison, can you show me your trick for treading a needle. I can’t seem to get it”

“Sure, first be sure the end of the tread is cut square and even. Then have only a quarter inch extending beyond your finger tips. Turn the needle so you can see the opening as you move the thread toward the needle.”

“I got it! Thanks.”

“You are welcome. What’s your name? Where do you live.”

“Kaitlyn is my name, and I live in West Heights. I think it’s neat that you are here with us. Have you done sewing before?”

“A little with my friends Patti and Jenny.” Actually it was a lot of sewing, but I was not going to say that.

“Glad to meet you. Let’s talk later.”

After a while everyone was getting fidgity and Ms. Reed announced it was break time. There was a dash for the restroom and a line soon developed. I looked around the hallway corner and everywhere else. I saw two restroom doors marked “Girls” but I did not see a “Boys” sign on any door, so I looked for my friends.

“Patti, did you see a boys restroom anywhere?”

Ms. Reed overheard me. “There isn’t one. I need all the building’s plumbing for the girls attending camp and cannot waste a facility for one person. You will have to use the girl’s. Your friends can go with you at first.”

Jenny took the opportunity. “There is always a wait for the girls’ room so let’s get in line. You just need to act like your being there is perfectly natural. When we go inside just pick an open stall, close the door, and…”

“Be sure to sit and wipe afterward,” Patti continued. “Then always wash your hand afterward. Nice girls are careful about washing after we touch ourselves down there.”

“And while you are at the sink you should check your hair and makeup,” added Rachael with a smile.

“I don’t have any makeup!”

“Maybe you should try it. We all can help you.”

Makeup? I thought as I headed back to my place at the work table. I had worn makeup many times when playing with Patti and Jenny, but never out in public. Would it make me fit in better or would it make me look weird?

“Girls, time to get started again. Listen up.”

The rest of the morning flew by and it was time for lunch. It was hot outside so most of us found a place in the hall or entryway to sit and eat. I joined in the conversation and began to learn about my fellow campers. Surprisingly, no one but Nancy seemed uncomfortable about my being a boy. Jenny and Patti helped me answer all the questions I was getting about my background and interests. I also got compliments on my outfit.

Toward the end of the afternoon Ms. Reed told us to put all the supplies and our work-in-progress away, and then come back for a few more instructions.

“Girls, this camp is about both sewing technique and feminine fashion. I expect everyone to dress accordingly. Shorts are OK but I really prefer skirts. Tops should have a collar. Madison and Nancy, you both need to wear something other than a tee shirt. This is not basketball or soccer camp.

I also want everyone to think about age-appropriate makeup and jewelry. Part of what I want to teach you this summer is how to create a fashionable presentation that is appealing but not overboard.

“It looks like we need to go shopping,” Jenny remarked as we waited for our ride home. “Let’s ask to stop at the mall.”

Mother agreed to drop us off while she ran some errands. She even loaned me her credit card so I was not cash limited. Jenny reassured me as we headed for the teen girls section of the store.

“Don’t be nervous. No one is looking at you.” Jenny pulled a headband and a couple of hair clips out of her bag. “Put these on, it will distract from your short hair. Let’s find you a pretty blouse.”
I relaxed when I realized that my presentation was androgynous and that people would not immediately read me as a boy.

I sheepishly followed Jenny along the clothes rack. She picked a white blouse with embroidered trim and held it up to me. “Go try this one on.”

“I can’t do that. What will the sales associate say?”

“Probably nothing. Her job is to sell merchandise.”

I took a deep breath, looked around to be sure no one was watching, and headed for the changing room. I held up the hanger to show the associate I had only one item and went in without saying a word. I quickly put the blouse on over my tee shirt. I had worn girl tops before so the buttons were no problem. I admired my self in the mirror for a moment before I heard Jenny asking me to come out and let her see.

“It looks great on you, Maddi. Go ahead and buy it. Better yet, buy a second one. Same size and style but in another color. You will need more than one if you are going to wear a pretty top every day.”

I changed back into my pastel tee shirt, carried both a white and a pink blouse to the checkout, paid and left without incident. Mom was waiting outside and drove us home.

“Did you have a good time shopping, girls?”

“Mom, I am not a girl.”

“We had a great time shopping in the girls’ department. Madison bought a couple of nice blouses that will meet Ms. Reed’s fashion dress code.”

“Will you model one for me when we get home?”

Jenny and I went to my room so I could put the blouse back on. Jenny again became my fashion consultant.

“That undershirt is really ugly. Girl tops are not designed to go over heavy, baggy boy clothes.

“Do you see the horizontal seams under the arm pits on both sides. They are called ‘darts’ and allow a girl’s top to fit better over her breasts. Too bad you do not have anything on your chest to fill the space.

“Next time we go shopping I will have you buy something more appropriate for underneath. Just wear the blouse without an undershirt tomorrow. It is opaque enough that no one will notice your no-bra look.”

“Jenny, are you trying to embarrass me? Let’s show Mom what this outfit looks like.”

The rest of the first week went quickly with endless demonstrations and projects. My friends supported me, and all the other girls seemed to accept me. Unlike school I could relax and just be myself without worrying about whether I was acting sufficiently like a boy to avoid comments from teachers and bullies.

The weekend came and I went over to Jenny’s house to hang out. Patti and Rachael were already there. We spent the morning chatting, listening to music, and discussing a romance novel that Rachael kept saying I should read.

After a light lunch (girls need to watch their figures, you know), Jenny asked for a ride to the mall. I had gone shopping with my friends many times, but after a week being with girls in sewing camp my wandering around in the girls’ departments seemed much more natural.

I did not want to run up too big a bill on Mom’s credit card, but she had encouraged me to get some fun things. After Rachael’s comments about touching up my makeup in the restroom I gave in and asked her to help me buy some makeup and accessories. She made it easy by picking out the items herself and dropping them in the basket. But she insisted that I go to pay for them. Fortunately the sales associate was a shy young girl who rushed through the transaction without making eye contact or conversation.

I ended up with an eyebrow pencil, some foundation that matched my skin tone, and a pale pink lipstick. Jenny insisted I get a shoulder bag that matched hers. Patti dragged me into a Claire’s store to look at things like hair clips, bracelets, and earrings.

I watched as Patti spun the earring rack around. I noticed some cute options.

Rachael was an endless source of comments. “Madison, you really need to get something here. You know, Ms. Reed mentioned wearing age-appropriate jewelry. Buy something to wear next week.” She gently touched my ear lobe. Small studs would be something subtle to show you want to look like a girl.”

“What make you think I want to look like a girl? Maybe I am a boy who likes girl things and wants to fit in with the girls, not be a girl. Besides, I am not ready to get my ears pierced.”

“Scaredy cat.” Rachael turned to Jenny, “What do you think Jenny? Does our friend secretly want to be a girl?”

“I have known Madison since preschool. He has always enjoyed being with girls and has never shown much interest in doing boy things. But, my mother has told me that he is afraid of peer pressure and social judgment. I have always let Madison be themself.”

“Themself?” Patti asked.

“It’s a gender-neutral pronoun,” I replied. “Non-binary people use it a lot.”

“Breaking the patriarchal gender binary gives people more options to be their authentic self,” Jenny added.

“How about a pair of magnetic studs?,” asked Rachael “They look like the real thing but do not require piercing.”

“OK,” I replied with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

Of course, Mom was excited when she saw the little studs on my ears when I was getting ready to go to camp again on Monday.

Things progressed smoothly for the next few days. Then came the incident when Nancy kept jamming the sewing machine and burst out in a tantrum. “I am sick of all this clothes and fashion stuff. I never wanted to be here. Worse, I have to see a BOY doing better at sewing than me. He just loves playing at being a girl and it makes me sick. He is the one who is sick, weird, unnatural, queer and …”

“Nancy, calm down,” shouted Ms. Reed. “Let’s have a time-out and all talk about the situation. Pull your chairs into a circle.”

As Ms. Reed went around the circle I kept hearing favorable comments even from girls I had met only the week before. Rachel was the last to speak. She grinned as she began. “I think it is awesome that Madison can be free to explore femininity with us this summer. It is obvious to me that Madison belongs on the girls’ team but is still getting used to the idea.

”I think we should all support Madison in HER exploration and support HER when SHE decides to become a girl.”

The female pronouns were still ringing in my ears when I heard a few girls start to clap their hands. In a few seconds almost everyone had joined. I needed to say something.

“Thank you all for your support. This is all new to me and I am still sorting out my issues. For now please regard me as … as. I am not sure what to say.”

“How about ‘gender-fluid’?” suggested Rachael. “You can be a mix of boy and girl and keep your options open. Meanwhile we can all have some fun doing girl things.”

Another week had gone by and I was again spending the weekend with Jenny, Patti, and Rachael. A few other girls from camp had agreed to join us at the mall to see a chick-flick movie about a cheerleader who had a crush on the class science nerd who had never been on a date.

Afterward we did some shopping. I was dressed in my usual androgynous weekend style, and was confident that anyone glancing at us would think we were all girls. Patti had put a lot of jell in my hair to create volume and brushed it into a style that made me look like a butch girl. Rachael had loaned me one of her off-the-shoulder tops. Walking around in public with my shoulder exposed was a new experience.

“It would look more sexy if your bra strap was showing, Madison.”

“Rachel, I am not wearing a bra.”

“You know getting your ears pierced and wearing a padded bra would make you look a lot more convincing as a girl.”

“Good point, it would avoid awkward situations where my presentation confuses people. But, I told you last week that I am definitely not ready to get my ears pierced or do anything else so permanent.”

Just then we saw a crowd of boys shuffling there way through the mall. I panicked when I realized that they were from our school. We immediately started hearing whistling and snide comments. Just typical teen boy behavior.

I moved to the center of our group and hoped I would not be noticed. We were almost past them when I heard what I feared most.

“Hey, is that Madison Lynn? What are you doing, playing at being a chick? Wait until fall when we can tell everyone at school.”

“Ignore them,” said Jenny. “Let’s head back to my house.”

I knew that Ms. Reed’s camp involved designing and sewing a custom dress and I had been wondering how she intended to accommodate a male participant. In the third week I found out.

“Girls, you have all mastered enough of the basics to be able to start on your individual projects.

“On the table are a large assortment of dress patterns: simple sun dresses, flirty prom dresses, elegant gowns, and much more. You will each pick out a pattern you like and then we will go to a fabric store. One of the joys of sewing is that you can choose whatever color and print fabric you want. Of course some dresses look silly with the wrong fabric choice, but now-a-days you can laugh it off and say you are being creative. Likewise, some fabric designs are hard to sew because it is difficult to make the print lines match at seams. I will advise you, but both the pattern and fabric will be entirely your choice.”

I went up to Ms. Reed as the girls started sorting trough the pattern envelopes. “What am I going to sew for my project?”

“That’s a silly question. When you signed up for this camp and initialed the box saying you would participate in all the scheduled activities. You will sew a pretty dress just like all the other girls. Not only that, but I expect you to model it at the closing fashion show. It will be a unique experience for you and something that boys like you really should have a chance to do. Go pick a pattern to sew.

I dragged myself back to the table in fake reluctance and plopped down into a chair next to Jenny. “I am expected to sew and model a dress.”

Jenny brightened up. “I thought so. How about if we both pick the same pattern and then choose complementary fabric colors. We will look like twin sisters when we model the dresses at the fashion show. You know, even back in preschool I wished you were my sister.”

Rachael was listening from across the table. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I am all in on supporting you, Madison. I think you are being a brave girl and will look awesome in a dress.”

Rachael handed me an envelope with a cover picture of a beautiful girl modeling what looked like a dress for a fancy dinner date or other evening event. “Here is a pattern that will work for both of you: feminine, elegant, and not to complicated to sew. It will flatter Jenny’s figure. And, it has both a very full skirt that will hide Madison’s lack of hips and a high neckline that will not show any lack of cleavage.”

“BFF and sisters,” I said without thinking.

Jenny, Patti, Kaitlyn, and Rachael all linked arms around me. “We will all help Jenny’s new sister be totally convincing for the fashion show. There is nothing to worry about.”

We showed our pattern choice to Ms. Reed and she was pleased. “That is an excellent choice. I am glad you are getting into the spirit of the program Madison.”

Later that week Ms. Reed paid me what I think was intended as a complement. “Madison, those bracelets you are wearing are really helping your presentation. They remind you to keep your elbows in and use your hands in a more feminine manner. Have you considered nail polish?”

It was soon my mother’s turn to drive again. One day Mom parked and came inside instead of waiting for us in the car as she usually did. “Ms. Reed called and said she needed to talk to us.”

We sat down across the desk from Ms. Reed. This seems like being called into the Principal’s office in school, I thought. I fully expected something embarrassing was about to happen.

“Now that Madison understands that he will be sewing his dress just like all the other girls we have to talk about an issue. We will be trying on and adjusting how dresses fit many times as the work progresses. Custom fitting of clothes is the benefit of being able to sew.

“I do not have private booths or a designated changing room. I just pull down the window shades and have the girls change in front of each other. I am expecting Madison to do the same. He will need to cover his nipples just like any girl. A bulky boy-style undershirt will not allow his dress to fit properly. You will need to get him a bralette or sports bra. Standard pre-teen options from any department store will work just fine.”

Mom turned toward me. “Are you OK with that?”

This was an opportunity to do something I had been dreaming about ever since Jenny started developing. Wearing a bra would really show the girls that I am committed to being like them, but I was scared about the idea. I finally said, “I guess so, after all I agreed to wear a dress.”

“Have him wear a bra every day. We do clothes fittings when needed, not on a fixed schedule.

“The bottom is a more difficult issue. We do not want Madison to be showing a little pointy thing through his panties. You need to go online to a company called “RubyShines” and order several pairs of their special underwear. You will need enough to have one to wear when the others are in the laundry. Rubies carries lot of products designed for children like Madison; you might check out the swimwear in case the girls decide to have a pool party. Ask for express shipping so you get the underwear in time.”

We had been taught how to pin the paper pattern onto the fabric and cut along the specific lines that were printed for each size that could be made from that same pattern. Now we all had fun measuring each other multiple times and figuring out our exact size. Of course Rachael made friendly jokes when measuring my non-existent bust and narrow hips. She even measured my inseam even though we were making dresses, not pants.

Soon the dresses were taking shape and we started trying them on so the fit could be adjusted and pinned before final sewing. To my surprise I found it perfectly natural to be in a room full of girls wearing only bras and panties as they changed clothes. Of course, I was now wearing similar underwear

One afternoon a girl, who had hardly ever talked to me before, asked me a question.

“Madison, you are really making amazing progress on your sewing techniques. Did your mother teach you before the camp started?”

I blushed and decided to be totally honest. “Jenny and I used to sew costumes for our dolls. Her mother taught us how to use a sewing machine.”

“You and Jenny played with dolls? How neat is that. You are an awesome boy, that is, if you really are a boy.”

As time for the final showing approached Ms. Reed called me aside after a fitting session.

“I suspect you have noticed that Jenny’s dress fits much better than yours. The problem is that the pattern both of you picked is designed for a girl who has developed breasts. Jenny is already a full A-cup. Ask your mother to get you a padded bra and your dress will fit much better.

“By the way, those magnetic ear studs look good on you, but I see you have lost one again. Magnetic never stay on; pierced ears are so much better.”

Mother did not seem at all surprised when I told her what Ms. Reed has asked me to get. “Of course, dear. Do you want me to take you to a lingerie shop for a proper fitting? That would be by far the best if you want to look like you have real breasts. But if you want I can measure you, go buy a bra, and bring it back home.”

“I don’t want to! What if someone who knows me saw me going into the dressing room carrying girls’ underwear?”

“OK, I will do the shopping this one time. Do not blame me if the fit is bad. You need to be more brave.”

My pretend reluctance collapsed at that last remark. “OK, but let’s not go at a busy time.”

As we drive to a mall across town I realized that I was wearing jeans and a baggy shirt without any makeup. I looked distinctly boyish and could have dressed more appropriately for a bra fitting.

Mom led me into a Victoria’s Secret store and headed directly to the teen collection. “They carry the best bras for girls who want to show a little extra,” she said with a smile.

Almost immediately a sales associate came up. “How can I help you …,” I was sure she was checking me out as she paused. “… ladies?”

“Madison needs something heavily padded to make a dress fit properly. What do you have in 34 A? Skillfully she avoided any gendered pronoun or the need for measuring.

“Try these two. Let me open a dressing room for you.”

An older woman gave me a suspicious look as I followed Mom into the forbidden zone of the changing rooms. Once the door was closed I took off my blouse and tried on first one bra, then the other. By now I had enough daily practice to reach behind my back and fasten the hooks on the first try.

“I think that one gives you a nice perky look, dear.”

I turned and looked both ways at myself in the mirror, smiled, and cupped my foam breasts with my hands. I was in heaven. We made our purchase and headed home.

My hair remained the least convincing part of my presentation. I had not gotten a hair cut since well before school ended and had developed a very shaggy appearance. The next Saturday morning Rachael and Jenny showed up at our house.

“Good morning, girls,” Mom asked. Shall we take Madison on a little trip together?” As we climbed into the car I suspected that this “little trip” have been planned by either Rachael or Jenny.

After a short drive Mom turned into the parking lot of her favorite hair salon where the sign read “Tresses and Glamour” Taking me to a hair salon was not unusual. Mom often brought me with her to get my haircut at the same time she was getting hers styled. She always claimed it was to save her time, but she knew I preferred avoiding a men’s barbershop.

After greeting the appointment clerk I was ushered into a chair as Mom and Rachael were discussing something. I was excited about what I knew was coming.

“Are you ready for this?” Jenny asked as Mom and Rachel walked up with the stylist.

Mom made clear exactly what was going on. “My son Madison is going to be wearing a dress in a fashion show and needs an appropriate appearance. What can you do with that mop of hair?”

I cringed as I heard the gender reveal in the words “my son,” but a second later Rachael was presenting a style magazine. “Maybe something like this?”

“Yes, that is a cute summer style for girls who like shorter hair. It will make Madison look very feminine, especially if you let me do some tinted highlights.” The stylist held the picture in front of me. “Would you like to look like this, Madison?”

I nodded yes.

“Your mother brought you to right stylist. One of my specialties here at Tresses and Glamour is working with gender-nonconforming people, especially boys and men who have feminine tendencies. I will do my best to make you look like a real girl for the fashion show.”

What could I say – everyone was acting like my getting a girl’s hairstyle was perfectly normal. I was fascinated by what was happening but felt I needed to put up at least token resistance. “OK, but don’t make the bangs so long that they get in my eyes.”

Rachael never misses an opportunity. “I think pierced ears would really complete the look. Don’t you think so Ms. Lynn?”

I had to assert myself a little. “I consider piercing to be a permanent change. I am enjoying camp, and love how everyone is treating me like a girl. But I have to think about going back to school after. I will get my ears pierced only if and when I decide to present full time as a girl.”

“Ear piercing is not permanent. The holes will heal up if you stop wearing earrings,” Mom replied. “But we can postpone it if you do not feel ready.”

Of course Rachael had other ideas. “Madison, I know you really want to be a girl. Jenny tells me you have been playing as a girl all your life. Why don’t you just …”

I cut her off. “There are a lot of people who do not approve …”

“Stop caring what ignorant people think and start being your authentic self.”

When we got home Patti was waiting outside. “Hello girls.”

I was starting to get used to that kind of ‘inclusive’ language. Maybe I really was a girl, at least mentally. I had to admit that was I fully enjoying being ‘one of the girls’ at sewing camp and that every week my clothing choices were become more feminine. Being told I had to wear a bralette when changing in front of the other girls had been an icebreaker for me. Now I was wearing a fully padded bra at home in the evenings and on weekends.

Rachael took charge as usual. “Madison, you do not want to look like a boy in a dress during the fashion show. We have decided to team up and run you through what used to be called a young ladies finishing school. You can get your hair styled. Your mom and I can apply glamour makeup the day of the show. But movement will be your big issue.

“You have only two weeks to learn how to first walk like a real girl, and then to walk like a fashion model on the runway.”

“Nancy keeps saying I walk like a girl already.”

“You take small steps and move your hips a little, especially when wearing a dress. But mostly she is teasing.”

“Take your pants off and put on this skirt. It drapes so you can make it swish when you are walking properly.”

The rest of the weekend and every evening of the next week were spent learning to move like a girl. Walking, but also smoothing my bottom when sitting down in a dress, using my hands freely while talking, and maintaining eye contact when someone was speaking were all things that I practiced until they became automatic. My friends would demonstrate, have me copy them while making a video, then have me watch my movement as they critiqued every detail. I worked hard and made good progress.

Unfortunately my normal movement habits were becoming overwritten by my exercises in femininity. I was walking down the street with Jenny when a couple of boys who I knew sped by on their bikes and started laughing.

“Look at Madison! He walks just like a girl.”

I had been enjoying fitting in with the girls at sewing camp so much that I had avoided figuring out what would happen when school started in the fall. Boys from school had seen me enough times that there was no way I could keep my summer time presentation a secret.

I needed to talk this through with Mom. One evening I came into the living room and asked if we could have a serious talk. She seemed to have expected this.

“Mom, I have really enjoyed looking and acting like a girl at sewing camp this summer but I am scared about what comes next. Word will get out at school. I know the bullies will go after me.”

She began probing with questions. “Have you enjoyed spending all your time with girls the last six weeks? Do you like exploring your feminine side? Do you feel pretty and confident when you are with your friends? Do you think of yourself as one of the girls? Are you happy when you are wearing girls’ clothes and a little makeup. Is your only concern that the girl Madison will be bullied by people who knew the boy Madison? What do you want for yourself?”

“I am not sure. I really enjoy having girls as friends and you know I have never wanted to spend time with boys. I often find myself wishing I were a real girl.”

Wow! I had finally come out and said it! There was no turning back now.

“Rachael says I may be gender-fluid and am a mix of boy and girl. She even has talked to me about transgender boys who undergo medical transition. I am not sure I want that yet. All I know for sure is that I am afraid to go back to my own school.”

“I have been thinking about this as I have watched you blossom over the summer. There is fine arts charter school near here where you could transfer. Their website proclaims that they are open to all gender identities and sexual orientations and strive to maintain an accepting academic environment. I think it is what you need while you figure yourself out. Remember, whatever you decide I will love and support you.

A few days before the end of camp, Rachael asked to make an announcement.

“Madison has been fully a part of this summer camp. He has learned to dress and act like the rest of us. We have all accepted his sharing our restroom and changing into his dress in front of us. I propose we all declare Madison an ‘honorary girl.’ What do you all think?”

She was answered by a wave of cheers and clapping. I looked and even Nancy was giving a thumbs-up.

Rachael was beaming, “SHE is now one of us. Let us treat HER as a complete girl.”

That was so sudden that I had no time to react. Suddenly we had all pulled together into a group hug.

I was time for the end of summer fashion show. Ms. Reed had booked a nearby theatre for the event. We all arrived with our freshly dry cleaned dresses on hangers and our makeup kits in hand. Both dressing rooms (someone had taped a “Girls” sign over the theater’s male dressing room) were a hive of activity as our moms helped us get ready.

I arrived wearing my fully padded A-cup bra and ‘special’ underpants. Mom had purchased a slip for me saying that it would make the dress move better on my body. Of course, Jenny had the same; we wanted to look like twin sisters after all. I pulled off my traveling dress, put on my slip, and sat down so Mom could work on my makeup.

Rachael came over to inspect the makeup my mother had applied. She had gone all out in getting me supplied with cosmetics: foundation, eye shadow, eye liner, eye brow pencil, long false eyelashes, powder, blush, lip stick. She had put lots of spray on my hair so that there were no stray wisps.

“You mom is a true artist. You have flawless skin, enchanting eyes, and gorgeous short hair. Go for it girl!”

When it was time for the photo shoot Mom dropped my custom fit dress over my head. I looked over at Jenny. We both displayed nicely shaped breasts that filled out our dresses. I slipped on my two-inch heels that I had been practicing walking in and I was ready.

The professional photo shoot was being done in the theater’s Green Room where floodlights had been arranged around a white background screen. One by one the girls stepped up and discussed how they wanted to pose with the photographer. A burst of digital images was captured, and then it was time for the next customer.

Jenny and I decided to be photographed together to highlight our paired dresses and our continuing friendship. We posed facing each other and holding hands and with our heads tilted slightly toward the camera. We made this choice because the pose highlighted our small but distinct breasts and made a strong eye connection.

In the final minutes before the show there were lots of backstage side hugs, high fives, and air kisses. We all wanted to show girly affection without messing up our stage appearance. I really felt that I was completely accepted as a girl.

The music started and as each of our names was announced we entered through the stage-right curtain, walked our circuit around the stage, posed for the audience, and then exited on the left to wait for the final group cheer and curtsey.

It was my turn. With my best fashion model walk I wiggled my hips down to center stage, turned to show my profile, twirled to flare out my dress, put my had on my hip, flashed a smile, and then strutted back upstage to the exit. It was all over in less than a minute.

Afterwards, we all went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. Mom and I shared a table with Jenny and her mother because both were single mothers. Most of the girls were able to sit with siblings and both parents and could soak in all the “my pretty princess” comments from their fathers. I totally enjoyed being treated like a lady by everyone. Jenny and I sipped on our soft drinks while waiting for our dinners. I ate slowly with small bites, just like Jenny. Anytime I was unsure of what to do during dinner I just copied my BFF.

Of course rehydration has consequences and groups of us started to go off to the restroom. It felt completely natural following the other girls. Then I realized that I was walking right past Patti’s father who knew me as a boy from all the times I visited with Patti over the years. He had been one of the worst critics of my appearance and behavior, and now he would see me going into the ‘wrong’ restroom. Well, there was no way I could use the men’s room wearing a dress and makeup. I followed my friends, took my turn in line, and sat down in the stall to do my business. I confidently went to the mirror; unlike my first restroom experience at Ms. Reed’s. Rachael grinned as I took a lipstick out of my purse, and deftly gave my face a touch-up.

An older woman saw us exiting the restroom and remarked how beautiful we all looked. In return she got a full description of the time we had spent designing and sewing our dresses.

I got back to our table and sat down. Moments later I looked with dread when I saw Patti’s father coming our way. Was he going to call me out or harass me?

“Madison, I listened whenever Patti talked about you being at sewing camp this summer. And last week I had a long phone call with your mother. I thought long and hard about what I saw as you were growing up. For years I could not understand why a boy wanted to dress up and play with my daughter and her friends. Tonight I see you as the girl that you have always been. I apologize for the negative things I said to you.”

I was at loss for words and finally mumbled, “Thank you.”

He said a bit more about what he had learned from Mom and I eventually replied, “You are not the only adult who did not understand what I was going through. Gender is confusing at times.”

“Come and visit Patti anytime.”

Mom drove me home and I went to my room to put my treasured dress on a hanger. Then we sat in the living room and had what I could only describe as a mother-daughter conversation. The whole day had been so wonderful.

Now that camp was over I had no choice but to figure out school arrangements for the fall, which meant making some decisions about presentation and identity.

I had asked Jenny to come over to talk about my next steps. “Madison, are you going to go to the fine arts school in the fall or not?”

“I decided that I will go. We took a tour yesterday and I was assured that the school welcomes the full spectrum of trans, gender-fluid, and queer students. Our tour guide said that straight cis-gender people actually are a minority. The attitude seemed to be totally casual about identity and presentation. And the academic program seemed to cover all my interests.”

“Jenny started bouncing up and down on the couch with excitement. “Marvelous! Then I am going to go there too so we can be together. Mom and I checked out the school too. The music and theater program is excellent and will be a good background if I want to try to eventually get a performance job.

“Let’s tell our moms to get us registered.”

“Yes, being together for our High School years will be awesome.

“And I decided to get my ears pierced. Do you want to come along to support me when I take the big step?”

“Of course! Pierced ears will make you look much more feminine. And then we can go shopping afterward. You are going to need a completely different style of clothes for school.”