Erica: Coming out, one girls life story chapter 1 part 1

[erica123]

Erica: Coming out. One girl’s life story. Chapter one

I was born April 10th 1965 and my parents named me Eric. To them I was they’re brand new beautiful baby boy and they had no reason to think otherwise. I was the youngest of four being six years younger than my youngest sister with an older sister being two years older than her and a bother being two years older than that.
My earliest recollections are of living in a big beautiful house in Norwalk Connecticut around the age of three. We lived in the country with a cornfield across the dirt road and what I thought was an enchanted forest for a backyard. Our closest neighbor was a house next door about a half mile away, or at least it seemed that far to my tiny stride. A rather eccentric English family lived there. I remember playing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang in an old open top car they had in they’re dusty garage and it seemed that that was the only song they knew how to play on they’re old upright piano in they’re parlor. I don’t recall how many children they had but remember the youngest boy who was close to my youngest sister’s age, so about nine maybe? We visited as often as we could I guess, my brother and sisters did anyway, for me not quite so often but I remember playing Don’t Spill the Beans and I remember getting into trouble because I ate the beans. Back then the beans were real.
Anyway, most of my time was spent at home with my Mom and Grandma. My Mom was very kind, beautiful and I was the world to her. Grandma was a tiny Scottish lady about 4’11” and very kind but maybe just a little bit stern, or so it seemed to me. Grandma would take me for walks in the enchanted forest on a lovely winding path to pick berries for a pie in the summer time. In the winter we would skate on a small frozen pond. She would always make an extra little berry tart for me to enjoy while the pie cooled before dinner.
I shared a room with my brother who saw me as nothing but a hazard, a potential threat to breaking his precious model airplanes but I had no such interest, except maybe once when I did indeed brake the plan I was inspecting and boy did I catch hell for that from him. I spent most of my time playing in my sisters room with they’re toys and I loved wearing mommy’s shoes as often as I could. I was young enough my Mom just thought it was cute.

[erica123]

My best friend was a fabric cut out doggie that my mom had made for me from a McCall’s pattern. She went with me everywhere with me and I just called her “doggie”. Inside, outside, on car rides, in my youth chair to eat and of course she slept with me. Needless to says she would get very dirty and worn and my mom would go through a lot to convince me to let her wash doggie. I would fret and pace, waiting for my best friend to come back to me and when she did I was elated. Little did I know, she had never been washed but Grandma had made me a new one, a new best friend.
My dad worked in New York City and commuted by train every morning before I got up. It was always very close to my bedtime by the time he got home so I don’t remember much about my dad during those years other than he must have been very stern because my siblings were always afraid when my mom would give the “Wait until your father comes home.” line. I do remember the moon landing though in 1969 and how excited my dad was, gathering us all in the living room in front of our black and white TV and trying to take pictures of the TV at this historical event which of course never came out.
Life was magical at three and four. I knew nothing of the difference between boys and girls really. As far as I was concerned I was just a younger version of my sisters until I overheard part of a conversation between my Mom and Dad one evening. I don’t remember the exact words but I remember he was telling her that she was wrong allowing me to wear her shoes and play in my sister’s room with they’re toys. Even at that age I was very sensitive and intuitive and felt my first experience of shame. I felt my dad thought there was something wrong and different about me. It was something, but I didn’t know what.
A few months before my fifth birthday my dad got a transfer from working in New Your City to California and I was going to have to leave my enchanted forest forever. But I clung tight to doggie.

[Peyton]

Ok, got my attention, need another chapter.