Darcy lived in Edinburgh. During his childhood, Darcy had often been mistaken for a girl. He had small facial features, high cheekbones and medium-length brown hair. The gender-neutral name did not help, even if the male and female spellings were slightly different (Darcy, Darcey).

On a family shopping trip in Auld Reekie, for instance, Darcy, dressed in jeans and a parka with faux-fur trim was walking along the street with his father. His father asked a Scottish policeman directions to a cycle shop. The policeman explained the way his father should go, "with the wee lassie." The situation was made more embarrassing by his father loudly correcting the policeman. "That is not a wee lassie; it's a wee laddie." It was only then that passers-by started looking and Darcy blushed.

At school, Darcy's classmates had called him "Lulu," convinced he bore a clear resemblance to the famous Scottish singer. Outside of school, there were more examples. One summer at swimming training camp, Darcy was poolside in his tracksuit and clearly heard one of the coaches asking another "if that was a boy or a girl?"

The situation reached a turning point when Darcy, aged eighteen, had gone to study at Heriot-Watt University, situated to the southwest of Edinburgh. Finding the first term a bit tough, he decided to try something new, away from the University, and signed up for a highland dance class at his local community centre. He was a late developer; his voice had broken, but it was not deep. He had almost no body hair.

The community centre was noisy when Darcy arrived for the first session. About thirty young people were there. Most looked to be in their late-teens or early-twenties. The lead teacher, Bryony, a good-looking, slim, middle-aged woman with grey hair, addressed the room. "A big welcome to our highland dance class. My name is Bryony. I used to be a professional dancer but am now a full-time dance teacher. Our goal is to teach you highland dance routines, hopefully to help you get fit but most importantly to have fun and to help keep Scottish heritage alive. I can see that there are about thirty of you. We have two studios and will need to divide you up. The easiest way is by gender, boys to the left, girls to the right please."

Darcy, dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, started to walk towards the boys. The teacher studied Darcy. She halted him. "No, girls to the right," she said. Darcy hesitated. It should have been obvious. It was not. His mind was in conflict, but he knew that a deep, and secret, part of himself lay on the girl's side of the room, not the boys. Darcy knew this decision could have an impact on his life. It was only a moment, but Darcy's thoughts turned to something he had learned at school. Bonnie Prince Charlie had escaped the Battle of Culloden in 1745 disguised as a maid called Betty Burke. A disguise that was effective and he maintained for a few days as he escaped with Flora McDonald to France. Darcy thought that this was his "boat to Skye" moment. He glanced to both sides and made the move over to the girls. Standing amongst them, he realised they were chatting away and did not pay him much attention. The girls and Darcy headed down the corridor to a separate studio reserved for their training session. Mirrored walls and dancing barres lined one side. Bryony asked them to spread out on the dance floor.

The session was a mixture of stretching and strength exercises. At the end of the session, Darcy was exhausted. The introductory lesson was free but from then on, there would be a fee of £5 each week. Bryony asked everyone who wanted to continue the course to sign the register at the front desk. Darcy decided to go ahead and sign up, as did everyone else on the girl's side. He thought for a while at the registration table before printing his name. He added an "e." A final instruction came from Bryony. "Please would boys wear dark sweatshirts and sweatpants next week. Girls, not essential, but if you can, please wear pink leotards and white tights." Darcy gulped!

The following week arrived. All week he had been worried about the uniform. He decided to see if he could get away with the kit he had worn last week. Walking into the studio he saw an expanse of pink and white. All the girls seemed to have obeyed the command, except him and one other, Fiona. Even so, Fiona was wearing a pink top and white leggings. The session went well. Darcy managed to keep up without problem. At the end, Darcy headed straight home but could not help hearing a discussion between several girls about whether tights should be worn over or under leotards. He had seen that some girls had them over and some under. Apparently, your legs look a bit longer with the tights over the leotard. He had always thought that his legs were a bit short.

The next step was a big one. He had reached the decision that he would get a leotard and would look in a few charity shops, which were all over parts of Edinburgh nowadays. Dressed in his usual androgynous gear, and with a backpack, he asked in a few of the shops about leotards. He was not having much luck before he went to a large Oxfam store on Nicolson Street. They had a rack of dance gear. There he found a second-hand pink leotard in medium. It was in good condition and marked up at £5. It had a name tag in it, "Yvonne," which he could cut out later. He had some old name tags at home and thought he would sew one of those in. Next to the dance gear rack were some packets of new tights. Sorting through, Darcy found some opaque white tights, again in medium, £4 each. He took two pairs. There was an older lady at the till, who took Darcy's money without a second glance. He put the leotard and tights in his backpack, and headed home to his digs.
When he put the outfit on at home for the first time, it felt a bit weird but comfortable. He took a few mirror selfies, which he examined for a long time, before deciding that he just about passed as female. There was a prominent issue that Darcy needed to fix though. A search on Amazon found some very tight-fitting foundation underpants, that when they arrived, the very next day, helped him to present a more feminine shape.

The next session came around quickly. Darcy wore the leotard with the tights over but pulled on his loose sweatshirt and sweatpants on top of them. As he walked to the dance centre, he could feel the name tag he had sewn in the leotard rub on his back. Darcy arrived together with a group of the boys. They were talking with great satisfaction about the last match in the Six Nations Rugby Union competition. Scotland had beaten England at Murrayfield Stadium the previous day. Given the ancient rivalry, this was the only game that the whole of Scotland cared about and to win gave the bragging rights for the entire year over the Sassenachs. Darcy had watched the game and cheered the win but did not feel that he could join in the banter, particularly when one of the group, Hamish - he thought that was his name-, started singing "Flower of Scotland," which the others all joined in with their deep voices. Darcy felt quite happy to walk over to the girl's studio, where he thought he would feel more comfortable. As he walked, he was trying to think who Hamish reminded him of, before deciding that he bore a slight resemblance to the film star, Matt D. Darcy was aware that, even mid-song, Hamish had watched him walk away.

Entering the studio, this time, all the girls, even Fiona, had followed the dress code. He hesitated by the door. The urge to slip away came over him. Fiona noticed his discomfort and went over to him, smiling. "Go on, you'll be fine," Fiona whispered. This made him feel better. Darcy noticed that Bryony gave him a knowing glance and smiled.

Darcy forced himself to peel off his sweatshirt, revealing the leotard underneath. He kept his sweatpants on though. No one even looked. One thing he clearly realised was that the tights over leotard debate had had an impact. All the girls were sporting that look, even the ones who had quite long legs.

A week on, Darcy decided it was time to join in properly. He arrived as usual in his sweatshirt and pants but immediately took them off. Again, no one was paying much attention as they warmed up, except for Bryony who gave him another of her glances coupled with a smile. He found the session much easier without the restriction of the sweatpants and appreciated the functionality of the outfit he was wearing. By the end of the session, everyone was red in the face and sweating. When the time came to head to the changing room, Darcy hesitated. Instead of joining the others, he put his sweatshirt and sweatpants on and left. The communal changing room felt like a step too far. Once back at his digs, Darcy wasted no time. He peeled off the sweaty leotard and tights, tossing them straight into the laundry bag before heading for a shower.

The next day he went to the launderette to do his weekly washing. No one could see the contents of the washing machine, but when it came to the tumble drier, with its large glass door, the flashes of pink and white in the tumbling dark clothes were obvious to the other students sitting waiting for their own clothes. Darcy decided to act normally and folded his clothes carefully, including the dance gear, and placed them with his other bits and pieces in his laundry bag when the drying cycle had completed.

By the time the following week's class came around he was more confident. Bryony called everyone to attention at the end of the session. She delivered the news: in four months' time, the group would have the chance to perform at the Inverness Highland Games. This news went down very well with the dancers. Darcy felt excited. The idea of dancing on a stage to an audience was worrying but he found himself thinking that it might be possible to make a reasonable job of it.

Bryony read out the dancer's names and their roles in the performance. Darcy was surprised to learn that he would be joining Morag, Fiona, and Heather in the Argyll Broadsword dance. Otherwise known as the "Ghillie Callum," the sword dance is incredibly challenging. Their selection was clearly no accident; Bryony had matched them for similar build and hair colour. Their shared features caused several people to joke that they could easily pass as sisters. Darcy was flattered by the comparisons but knew, whilst he was often mistaken for a female, he was nowhere near as attractive as the other three. Morag and Fiona were very pretty with great figures, but Heather was stunning. He smiled to himself thinking he would be playing the role of the ugly sister.

With the four sword dancers assigned, the rest of the team now consisted of ten women and ten men. They were to perform a highland reel. Both men and women would wear traditional highland gear. The primary difference was that women wore lace blouses and a lighter weight of kilt, fitted at the waist, and fastened on the left, with a sash.

Bryony had managed to get a government grant to cover the costs of the outfits. Much appreciated by Darcy, given his financial straits. They would arrive in the next week so that everyone could get the right fit, with appropriate adjustments made. To preserve modesty beneath the translucent blouse, a matching white bra was essential, a requirement that presented Darcy with a challenge. He found one of a reasonable price online but was unsure about the size. A bit of searching on YouTube led him to the conclusion that a 34-inch chest was about right. As for cup size, well he thought he might as well start at A. Never having worn a bra before, YouTube again helped him. Pull the clasps together around the waist and then turn it around, lift it up and put your arms through the straps. A bit of further adjustment and it was all done. The sensation was new, but it was not uncomfortable. Darcy spent a lot of time looking in the mirror. He liked the lace panels at the top of the cups. He was a long way from filling even the A-size cups and found himself wondering how he would look if he could. Taking it off, Darcy touched the indentations left on his skin. They did not fully disappear until the next morning.

The fitting session was a lot of fun. The girls could dress over their dance gear in the main hall, but the boys headed off to the changing room to much deep-voiced laughter. There were several available sizes, but Darcy seemed to fit easily in the medium size of everything. The kilt was adjustable, so it was simple to get a snug fit over the blouse. The sash and brooch took a bit of help from the group. The last touch of Darcy's outfit was provided by Fiona. She had observed his slim frame. She took him to one side and discretely produced a pair of silicone bra inserts, saying "try these, lots of us use them." Darcy had put the bra on under his leotard, and Fiona demonstrated how to put the inserts snugly in the cups. Darcy now had a chest. The blouse fitted better, and his profile was more like Morag's, Fiona's, and Heather's. Darcy loved Fiona's gesture, thanking her profusely. He also loved how he looked. Darcy spent a lot of time admiring his silhouette that day. When all the girls were ready, they lined up in front of the mirror as the boys came out of the changing room looking extremely smart. Admiring wolf-whistles were exchanged from both sides. Darcy, shy as usual did not join the whistling but it made him laugh, nonetheless. Afterwards, Hamish came up to him and said, "you look great." Darcy smiled and returned the compliment.

Morag, ever the organiser, created a WhatsApp group for the four sword dancers so they could coordinate rehearsals and exchange tips. The group's tone was immediately lively, plans for practice sessions mingled with banter about everyday life.

The four months of training was exceptionally hard for all of them. The sword dance is very physical involving almost continuous "pas de basque," consisting of bouncing steps with alternating hands at the side or high in the air. In the early weeks, for obvious safety reasons, swords were not used. But later the team was taught to enter the dancefloor each holding an Argyll broadsword. They flourished the sword and then laid them with the points touching to form a cross. All practices were done in kilts since the flow of the material is an integral part of the dance. If anyone touched a sword, the dance stopped immediately and was begun again. After four months, they had all improved enormously. No-one had touched a sword with their feet during practice for several weeks. They could dance in almost perfect time. They could also keep it up for the required two minutes. The price paid was huge including blisters and bruised toenails. Darcy had lost count of the number of times he had walked home in an uncomfortable leotard dripping with sweat. One day, Fiona helped Darcy with a blister and asked Darcy "are you finding this as hard as I am." Darcy replied "It is the toughest thing I have ever done. But, from my perspective, you find it so easy." Fiona laughed and said, "that is all a pretence, sometimes I am in tears on the way home." Darcy felt for her and suggested that they could walk home together sometimes and talk. Fiona did not live near to Darcy, but they shared the first part of the route and started to do that together each week, sharing thoughts on the dancing, and, more broadly, the challenges of life in general for people in their late teens. One evening, Darcy told Fiona the truth about himself. Fiona was completely unfazed and treated him in the same way that she always had after this.

The dress rehearsal arrived. In the final days, the team were allowed to take their outfits home for extra practice, with the understanding that the grant stipulated that they belonged to the dance school for future performances so would have to be returned after the event. Still nervous of the changing rooms, and not wanting to crease the kilt under sweatpants, Darcy walked to the studio with just a jacket over the highland dress. Nothing of any note happened, until he passed two boys that he had been to school with. They exchanged glances and Darcy heard the exchange that followed. "That is him, he might look a bit like a girl, but he is a min." Darcy knew that, if he were going to continue with this sort of thing, he would have to accept comments like this. At least they did not challenge him or get aggressive.

The dress rehearsal could have gone better. On the first attempt Darcy and Morag ran out of steam before the end after putting a bit too much effort in for the first minute. With a more measured effort, thirty minutes later, the second attempt was almost perfect. No one touched the swords and all the moves were completed in perfect time to the tune of "Ghillie Callum."

The announcement of a team social before the Highland Games caused a flurry of posts on the WhatsApp group. Fiona, Morag, and Heather were discussing outfits. Tartans miniskirts were agreed on, as well as tight-fitting tops and heels. Darcy, even with his new courage was not ready to join in with the girl's outfits, making the excuse that he would have to come straight from an evening lecture hence he would sport his usual (androgynous) gear.

The dance was noisy and fun. Darcy stayed in the background but was encouraged away from it for the final highland reel. He found himself partnered up with Hamish. As the music reached a peak, Hamish, grinning, dipped Darcy. Hamish then leaned in and planted a swift, kiss on Darcy's cheek. The moment was over quickly but seen by many. Darcy experienced the same confusion he had when joining the girls at the first dance class but eventually smiled when he thought about which side of the room he chose. He also felt a pang of regret that he had not had the courage to dress the same as the girls. As they parted, Hamish said that he "hoped that kiss was ok." Darcy found himself saying "I was not expecting it, but no problem at all." Hamish was happy after that.

The weekend of the Highland games came around rapidly. All the dancers were booked into the Inverness Travelodge, where they seemed to have taken Scottish functional simplicity to an extreme. Twin rooms for all. To his great relief, Darcy was paired up with Fiona. The first night saw the whole female and male dance teams, totalling twenty-four, sharing a meal in the hotel restaurant. Afterwards, they all retreated to their rooms for an early night.

Darcy kept his tight briefs firmly in place but donned distinctly girly pyjamas that he had acquired on one of his charity shop trips. Fiona, who was clearly well-used to sleepovers, lay on the bed and regaled tales of some of her dates. As for celebrities, she confessed her undying love for Harry S. When she asked for Darcy's crush, he came straight out with "Matt D!" Fiona said "smart choice! Bet he would look good in a kilt." She then began inventing a story about Darcy going on a date with Matt. Darcy could not help laughing. The chat continued well into the night. By lights out, Darcy had learnt a lot about Fiona's love life.

The excitement was high on the morning of the competition. Morag, very organised and best described as "team leader" double-checked the registration slips. She also helped with hairstyles. Darcy's hair was just long enough to be tied back into a tight bun like the others. Morag's last touch was to liberally spray the team with orange blossom perfume, around their wrists and necks.

The coach transport pulled up outside the Travelodge. It had tartan seats, a large thistle painted on the sides and that unmistakable aroma of a mixture of Irn Bru and sweaty feet. Hamish was first aboard and settled himself in the middle of the back row. He shouted to the sword dance team to join him, because "you smell an awful nicer than this bus." Darcy found himself next to Hamish, whose kilt revealed a generous expanse of freckled hairy knee, with Fiona the other side and Heather and Morag in the adjacent seats. Darcy looked at his and the teams' knees. They were hairless, quite different from Hamish's. Hamish was manspreading, whilst Darcy copied the girls in keeping his knees tight together. The Scottish potholes meant that the bus lurched around continually causing Hamish's leg to bump against Darcy's frequently. He did not seem to be bumping into Fiona as much. When they reached the competition venue, Bryony gave a last-minute peptalk, reminding the team that they were mostly new to dancing, especially to competitive dancing so not to expect too much but try to enjoy themselves. Darcy, smoothing his kilt, felt oddly ready for whatever lay ahead.

They spilled out of the coach into the lively Highland Games. The cool highland air hit Darcy's knees. There were stalls and shops and thousands of people milling around. Tartan was everywhere. Their sword dance and highland reel slots were not for another couple of hours, so the squad set off on a tour of the large site. Luckily, the midges seemed to have stayed away today.

They were dancing third in a competition of twelve teams. Their names were announced on the Tannoy, and they did a curtsey as they walked out to a large audience of onlookers. For the first time, they danced to the Ghillie Callum played by real bagpipes. The noise was absolutely deafening. Darcy could feel the deep vibration of the loud music in his chest as the dance started with the flourishing of swords. The routine went off with no incidents; all the moves went as well as they could and each one kept their form until the final moment of the routine. Walking off, they were all out of breath, with stinging calf muscles, hamstrings, and arms. There was warm applause from the audience. Heather was even asked to sign an autograph by some boys who looked about twelve or thirteen. She did so muttering "fame at last" as she laughed. Darcy knew it was more to do with her beauty than fame. The team, amazingly, placed joint third overall, a result celebrated with much enthusiasm. Darcy had watched the other teams and, trying to be impartial and honest, knew that the teams placed first and second were way better than them. The girls in those teams looked like they had been dancing all their lives. Their third-place finish also seemed slightly fortunate, luck was on their side that day. Their prizes were blue rosettes, which they pinned on their shawls with the pride of Commonwealth Games medallists. There were quite a few happy tears. Everything was captured on video by Bryony, for later upload to YouTube.

The highland reel team also performed very well, even Hamish, and matched the sword dancers with a third place, albeit out of only four teams. Bryony was delighted with the whole thing and seemed quite emotional. She received two rosettes, being the dance director of both teams. The return coach ride was uproarious. Lots of singing, and to the driver's annoyance, dancing. Darcy was trying to stay in his seat, next to Fiona, whilst at the same time studiously endeavouring to keep their skirts under control every time the old coach lurched over another pothole. Bryony had been moving around the bus congratulating many of the dancers. She came over to Darcy, put her arm around him, and said "back at the first lesson, you made the right choice, and maybe so did I." Darcy realised at that moment that Bryony understood who he was. Fiona, who was listening to this, smiled and gave Darcy a high five.

Back at the Travelodge, the squad skipped in, still singing highland tunes. Time to wash and change. Darcy opened the door to his twin room to find Fiona had transformed his bed into a shrine to Matt D.

There was a magazine cover featuring Matt D on the pillow. The funniest thing, however, lay beneath the covers. Halfway down the bed, the duvet bulged. Suspicious, Darcy poked it and discovered Fiona had stuffed a model of the Loch Ness monster, with a long neck and large head.

"What a legend!" Fiona declared, snapping a photo of her creation and adding it to the WhatsApp group. This precipitated romance GIFs from Heather and Morag. Fiona encouraged Darcy to kiss the monster for another photo. The girls spent much of the evening composing limericks to Matt D's monster and watching Bryony's videos which were now on YouTube. Darcy stayed in his highland outfit for all the evening, enjoying the feel of the light kilt material and the hug of the bra. It was the first full day he had spent presenting as female.

Falling asleep the following night, after the journey home to his digs, Darcy reflected on the events at the Highland Games and how much fun he had had. He decided that he would spend more of his time dancing. He also thought of Bonnie Prince Charlie. His was a disguise but Darcy now felt that for him, it was more than that. Darcy had a double bed in his digs. He had always slept on the left side. From that night on Darcey would sleep on the right side.