Dear Auntie Helga,

This is a story of how I came to live as a girl...

"Don't worry, sweetie, you'll feel much better when your hair is permed and you have your makeup on. I'm going to roll more than sixty perm rods into this pretty hair. You'll make just an adorable little girl." I remember the words so well. Spoken by a beautician named Helen as I sat in her beauty salon chair looking with disbelief at my image in the mirror. I was outrageously wearing what my aunt called a tea party dress and patent leather shoes with a narrow strap across the instep. Socks with lacy collars. I had started to cry even before my aunt Judith and I had entered the salon. "Now hold your head still, or it's going to take me sort of a long time to roll up your hair. This is what we do here every Thursday night. Turn little boys into sweet little girls," Helen continued. She turned the salon chair to the left and I followed her glance. At the other end of the salon, another young boy was strapped into another salon chair with thick leather belts. A second beautician was already applying the waving lotion to his hair. The ammonia smell of that lotion still brings me back to this night. We exchanged a look of absolute incredulity before Helen turned my chair back to face the mirror. "That's right, dear. Sally is getting her makeover tonight too. But we won't have to restrain you, will we? You're going to hold nice and still for Helen, aren't you?"

My story started about two weeks earlier. My daddy was a chemist employed by a pharmaceutical company. He had received an assignment to one of their overseas facilities that was to take him away from home for over a year. Two months after he left, my mommy received airline tickets to visit him in Europe. That was when I was taken to live with her sister, my aunt Judith. I did not understand what aunt Judith meant when she told my mother what a wonderful job she had done growing out my hair. Nor did I catch mommy's meaning when she told her sister that she hoped I would be "completely finished" by the time she returned.

At aunt Judith's house, mommy took my suitcase upstairs to a room that was furnished with only a single bed, a dresser and a chair. Bare walls, bare windows, an almost impossibly plain room. She quickly kissed me goodbye and rushed away, explaining that she was going to be late for her flight if she stayed longer. For some reason, I thought my sister was going with mommy. I was awash with anxiety and loneliness. I was nine years old.

I knew my aunt Judith, of course, but I had never been comfortable with her. She had never seemed affectionate or playful. Always stern and abrupt. I didn't have to be told that she did not tolerate any nonsense. She fed me an early supper and told me to put on my pajamas and get into bed. She was right. I was suddenly very, very sleepy. But as I went to bed that night, I had assumed that my sister Meredith had left with my mother.

When the sunlight awoke me the next morning, my room had been transformed The pictures on the walls were the first things to catch my attention. They were not here the night before. A picture of a young girl braiding flowers into her pony's mane. Two ballerinas and a figure skater. Kittens with ribbons around their necks. And another girl putting a garland of roses around the neck of a unicorn. The girl and the unicorn were looking at each other with nothing short of adoration. Except for the kittens, they were all watercolors. They looked like nice ones. Curtains and bedspread were all pink ruffles and lace. A bookshelf at the foot of my bed contained several dolls along with books and magazines. My sheets and pillowcases were printed with Little Mermaid scenes. And I was wearing a pink nightie, all ruffles and lace like the curtains.

Only then did I notice my aunt and my older sister, Meredith sitting together in the chair by the bookcase. "Our little princess is finally awake," said Aunt Judith. "Have you decided what his name should be?" "Oh, yes, auntie. I want to call him Nancy. He won't mistake who he is with a name like that." This was when I first became aware that Meredith would be staying with my aunt too. "Very well. Nancy it shall be." Aunt Judith looked at me with an expression devoid of all affection and said, "Go into the bathroom and undress, Nancy. Your sister and I are going to give you a bath and then we're going to dress you." I was trembling with fright and shame but I had no will to disobey. Weak protests of, "Please, no, Aunt Judith," were the only resistance I could muster. They prepared a lilac-scented bubble bath for me and my aunt let Meredith do the washing. When I attempted to cover myself with my hands, my aunt slapped my so hard that I thought a bolt of lightening flashed in front of my eyes. "Do not even think about disobeying us little missy," was her warning. "Don't disobey any woman who gives you an order, do you understand?" By the time my bath was finished, it was impossible for me to stop .my tears. They took me back into the bedroom, placed me on a low stool, and dressed me like a little girl. I was actually relieved when they pulled up my panties to cover my private regions. I stared in shock when I saw my training bra, but I knew better than to whisper a syllable of protest. A satin slip and a babydoll dress were lowered over my head and lace socks and shoes called Mary Janes finished my outfit. . Oh, yes. And a ribbon pinned in my hair. "You may play with your dolls until we call you to breakfast. Bring this one down dressed properly when you're called." Those were my aunt's parting words. I was left alone in my room.

"You're being such a good girl, Nancy. Holding so nice and still for me." Back in Helen's salon chair. Unlike my sister and my aunt, there was kindness in Helen's voice. I realized that I felt safer and more comfortable than at any time since I woke up that morning. I felt myself relax as she rolled those perm rods into my hair. I didn't care that it was taking a long time. I didn't want my perm to end. "Boys who are turned into girls are actually very lucky, sweetie. Just wait and see how much you love being a little girl." Her words reassured me. I wanted to feel her hugging me. And then she did exactly that. "No hugs while the waving lotion is in your hair, sugar. It smells sort of nasty, and it could make a horrible mess of my makeup." Finally, all the perm rods were rolled into my hair. I was covered by a smock, so I couldn't see my dress, but the image in the mirror was unmistakably a girl. I couldn't stop staring at my reflection. "Time for the waving lotion, darling. And while the lotion is working, I'm going to remove all that makeup and do your face right." Helen leaned in close, winked and whispered, "Your aunt and your sister really didn't do such a good job. Your face will be so much prettier when Helen does your makeup, dear."

From that first morning I was dressed as a girl, my day started with the humiliating ritual of being bathed, dressed and having my makeup put on by my sister and aunt. Always dresses, of course. I didn't bother to ask about my boy clothes or my suitcase. I knew I'd never see them again. By the end of the first week, my ears had been pierced, my eyebrows plucked, my nails manicured and painted, my teeth whitened. And what seemed like dozens of other little beautifying procedures. My tormentors were very strict about having me behave in a girlish manner. The slightest transgression would result in going without my next meal. I felt it was terribly cruel, but soon found myself moving and gesturing like a girl. During the few times I was left alone in my room, I was expected to hold tea parties for my dolls. And after a week, an enormous, very elaborate dollhouse appeared in my room, sitting on a low table. All of the 6-inch dolls were females, but my aunt told me that a little girl doll had once been named Timothy, but was now called Tina. Meredith and Aunt Judith were more excited about the dollhouse than I. They were continually re-arranging the furniture and positioning the doll family members in different postures and rooms. On the morning of my first visit to Helen's salon, I was shown my school uniform. Plaid skirt, green blazer, white blouse with ruffles, knee socks to match the blazer and patent leather shoes. I learned that I had been enrolled in St. Theresa's Academy, an all-girls school.

The permanent took a long time, just as Helen had predicted. The waving lotion tingled my scalp, but just as I thought it would get irritating, Helen applied the neutralizer to halt the waving action. Then she rinsed my hair and set it in rollers to dry. I held very still for the makeup as she talked all the while of how special it was to become a girl. Helen seemed like the very opposite of Aunt Judith - almost an anti-Judith. While my aunt made me timid and frightened, Helen's voice was calm and reassuring. I wanted to please her, wanted to be pretty for her. Finally, the rollers came out and she attended to my hair with a comb and brush. Several light applications of hairspray and even more detailed manipulations of my curls with her fingers. Then she rotated the chair to face the mirror. The girl whose reflection I saw had lovely brown hair, Shiny with curls that moved when she turned her head. Her face in no way suggested a boy. She was pretty. She was me. After my first visit, Meredith or Aunt Judith took me to Helen's salon twice a week for a shampoo and a set and her impeccable makeup. I found myself anticipating my time in her chair more than anything else in my girly life. Here, I was safe and relaxed. With my sister and my aunt, sleep was my only refuge. Two months later, on a night when the weather forecast predicted a severe storm, my sister and aunt chose to remain at home. "But it's salon night!" I cried. "Helen is supposed to curl me tonight!" My disappointment led to a long night, crying myself to sleep.

Nancy

Thank you for your letter Nancy. It is so special for a young boy to experience the sights and smells of a beauty salon, and to come out so pretty, no wonder you cried yourself to sleep. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you.

Auntie Helga