Transvestia

meant nothing. I much preferred to play with dolls and do what little girls did. In fact, all of my playmates were girls--from choice. Naturally, the boys my age made fun of me, their ridicule was merci - less, some of them delighted in beating up the neigh- borhood "sissy". Their battering, taunting and teas- ing did not change my views, it merely drove me to adopt a solemn, poker-faced attitude, and I suppose I could have been called quiet--even moody. My parents had no idea of what I was enduring and felt that I was just "going through a phase", something every boy experiences.

The years passed in the same pattern.

Outwardly

I was a rather ordinary little fellow, unobtrusive, seemingly normal. Yet all this while I felt myself to be a girl, even though everyone insisted on treat- ing me as a boy. How was I to know one could not choose one's gender? By the age of nine, I became aware that I had to comply with the wishes of my elders and regretfully gave away my favorite baby dolls to a girl my age who loved to play with me. She eagerly accepted my "gifts", as she had none of her own. She promised to be my friend, forever. This was not to be, for shortly she passed away and was gone forever. I haven't forgotten her because she was my first and truest friend.

From this point on, a different person emerged. No longer carefree, but alone, friendless and dis- trustful of everyone. My desires to wear feminine clothing grew stronger and at every opportunity-- when my parents were away--I would dash like a shot from a cannon to my mother's closet and dresser, there to dress in her clothes and live in my fantasy world. To me, this was the way I should live. I could never understand why it was forbidden. I felt that I was being forced to live a role I did not want--these were very deep thoughts for one so young

as I.

Since I had no brothers or sisters, or for that

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