Through The Window

Chapter Two: The Sleepover

I never went places outside of school very often. I suppose even as a fifth grader I was destined to be on the unpopular side, and found myself at home more often than not. However, I can recall a time I was invited to a sleepover at the house of one of my classmates. It was nothing for me to be necessarily proud of since in elementary school if one person was invited to a sleepover, parents always urged kids to invite the entire class so it was considered "fair". Of course, this meant that the girl hosting the sleepover invited every girl in our class - including me, who hadn't begun transitioning yet.

That night, after our dinner of two sheet pizzas, we all trekked down to the basement. I was the last one to reach the bottom of the stairs since I preferred to follow instead of lead. I watched as all the girls made their way to the opposite side of the basement to dig in to the dress-up box, while I became distracted by the "Guitar Hero" drum kit up against the wall. I figured I'd found a similarity between my classmate and me.

"Hey I have a drum set!" I yelled to the front of the pack of girls, "Mine's for 'Rockband' instead of 'Guitar Hero' but I can play!" The girl whose setup I was suddenly intrigued by made her way back to me and glanced at the kit.

"Oh. No that's my brother's game," she told me as she turned back around to join the other girls. I took a seat behind the drums, somewhat disappointed, and fiddled with the drum sticks as I watched the girls play dress-up from a distance. There had always been a distance between me and any other girls, and it always made me feel like something was wrong with me. It's unclear how long I sat alone, but I did so until one of the girls yelled my name from the other room. 

"Ri! Come try some of this stuff on! This box is full of cool stuff!"

"I don't know," I spoke up hesitantly, "I don't really play dress-up." One of the girls pushed her way through the crowd into the doorway and held up what I remember as a big pink boa - or at least what resembled one.

"Look at this!" she exclaimed excitedly as she extended her arm, giving me a preview of what was in the clothing box. I found the drum kit increasingly more exciting as every second passed, but I stood up and followed her after remembering what my mother had told me before dropping me off. She had urged me to participate.

I reached into the box and began to dig. Nothing pleased me. One clothing item after the other, picked up, cringed at, and thrown back into the box. At one point I glanced over my shoulder at everyone else. All I remember seeing were the smiles on everyone's faces. Why didn't I feel like smiling? The room obviously wasn't a sight I wanted to remember, but I recall excessive amounts of pink. I continued digging in attempt to find something to wear that I would enjoy just as much as the other girls. I instead caught hold of something thin, almost silky. I pulled at it until it emerged from underneath the mounds of clothes, and paused as I observed what I'd found. In my grasp rested a gray tie, already tied and ready to slip over my neck. All the motions and conversations of the girls around me fell away. In that moment, fitting in was irrelevant.

I approached a full body mirror and slipped the tie over my head, moving my long golden-blonde hair out of the way so I could reach my collar. The shirt I wore - a long sleeved polo with with maroon and white horizontal stripes and a white collar - now made sense to me. I, along with my classmates, figured I simply had a unique sense of clothing choice. Until I put on the tie. Finally, an unmistakable smile overtook my expression, and lasted the rest of the night. As did my handsome new outfit.

At one point after I put on that tie, the boy that owned the drum kit made his way into the basement and turned on the console that was connected to the kit.

"Is this yours?" I asked him as I pointed to the drums.

"Yeah, do you wanna play?"

"Yes! I have the 'Rockband' drums at home. I play these all the time!" I exclaimed as I raced to the seat.

There are many things I can't remember about that night, such as what the boy looked like, his name or age, or what songs we played. Only one thing is clear to me, and that is the fact that I wailed on those drums and had the time of my life. The rough clatter of the sticks against the drum pads made me king of the stage. There could have been about fifteen girls giving me terrible looks but I wouldn't have noticed. I was making noise and owning my presence. Wearing that tie, playing the drums - it made me joyful in the most indescribable way. I discovered a part of myself that was incredibly important for me to find. It was the first real moment I can remember that proved to me I was meant to be someone else. The sleepover marked the beginning of an eight year transformation from and outcasted, lost little girl into a happy and hopeful young man. Some people who meet me claim my stories and experiences are unnatural. To that response I say, this unnaturality that ultimately aligns my mind with my body - it makes me happy. And I believe the purpose of life is to be happy.