For the days until puberty I was a girl

Growing up in the fifties. I'm an old fart now but back in the day we lived in a small town where my father worked for the post office (a WW2 veteran) and my mom had children and did the wash and cooked and cleaned. I was the fourth of four boys. My mom wanted a girl.

Until I went through puberty I wore my hair long, I wore dresses and girl shoes and panties and called myself Maureen. I helped with the cooking and the washing and sat on the toilet. Thing got more and more difficult as I began to mature and go through puberty. Harder and harder to hide my weenie, I started to look stupid in a bra and panties and my father finally put his foot down and told my mother to accept the fact that I wasn't a girl.

In our small community everyone knew I wasn't a girl, but everyone helped with the idea. I was invited to girl parties and I sat with the girls at school and the teachers called me Maureen. And just like that, when I went into middle school my hair was short and wore boy clothes and my name was Matt and I was a fast runner and ran track.

As an old fart now, I still from time to time see old friends of those growing up days and not one of them ever has called out my days as Maureen.

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