So Betty I became and still am except for signing papers. To make sure they would not forget, they start- ed calling me Betty all the time, even Karen and Mrs. Williams, who as she had said, entirely approved of my being feminized.
By the end of the holidays, I had almost forgotten I was not born Betty, but Karen brought it back to my sorrow. We were looking at the things her mother had fixed for school, and I said some thing about mother getting me a boy's suit.
That's too bad; you won't be able to wear that pretty slip and panties any more.
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'Why not?"
"Boys can't wear slips, silly. You can't pack them into pants. You can't even get those pretty ruffles
on your panties into boys' pants.
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I went home quite upset. "Mother, why can't I wear dresses to school. Most boys in the city do even big ones.
"
"
'What's got into you. I thought you wanted pants.
"I did, but I like dresses, and if I wear pants,
can't wear my pretty slip and panties any more.
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That's it, is it?" she said. "I
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I
like you in dres- ses too, a lot better, and I am glad for I still don't know where the money for a boy's suit would come from. But remember this, if you start in dresses, you keep on.'
Then she remembered that I would likely be the only boy in dresses at the school, so said we had bet- ter see what Miss Brett said about it. She was the teacher in the lower room, a very good one who had taught for years. She had no great love for house work, had a small apartment, and mother did her washing and ironing, and went over every week or so to give it a going over. She was to go the next morning so promised to find out. She had hardly got home till it
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