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Just Another Girl - Part 1

Added 2022-10-14 13:51:17 +0000 UTC

Just Another Girl In The Artistic Gymnastics Academy

Author - Valerie Garza

Greetings - Let me start by saying that it is my pleasure to have Valerie Garza, one of our Patreon members, here to share with us an amazing story. I am very sure that you will find this story highly entertaining and so would like to know your thoughts on it.

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Everything is slightly blurred between the first memories of my childhood, although many years have passed, I not only remember my parents together, in fact, I remember them happy: I guess there are things that a four years old boy doesn't realize, although I also remember very clearly the moment when my father brought my brother, my sister and me together to tell us that they were going to get divorced and that regardless of whether we live together or apart, they would still be our parents and they would always love us. On that occasion, he told us that we would have to choose who we wanted to live with.

I think that as far as possible, it was a civilized divorce because normally those decisions are not made by the children but by the judges. In the end, my older brother (8 years old) decided to live with my father, and my sister Ana Lilia and I, (Mario), (6 and 4 years old) stayed to live with my mother.

Without a doubt, for adults, it was as difficult as any divorce, but for us, I think it wasn't so bad, I spent every weekend with my father and during the week, my sister and I went to school in the morning and played with our neighbors in the evenings. In general, I was a happy boy, so I don't think I can blame anyone for anything. At least not to divorce and not about my gender issues, because even before the separation, when I perceived that everything was working well at home, my sister's room and things especially caught my attention.

I know it was not a sexual issue, not only because I was 4 years old but because from that age, I remember that I really liked my kindergartner, Kathy! It's real, she made me nervous and it was hard to talk every time she was around, I liked everything she did! I perfectly remember her green eyes, her smile, and how her dress moved when she walked or turned. I thought she was beautiful and I loved how she dressed. Her dresses and skirts, her stockings, her shoes, and her hairstyles... I don't know if that made me think about how I would look in those clothes, but I remember this day when I walked into my sister's room while everyone was downstairs.

I don't think I even thought about it. I went directly to her closet, I looked at her clothes and took out a skirt and her panties, in a second glance, I also took out a blue dress that I had always liked, I closed the door of her room and as fast as I could, I took off my shorts and my boxers and tried on her panties.

The feeling of that fabric on my skin fascinated me from the first moment, I didn't want to take them off or wear boy's clothes ever again, but I saw myself in the mirror and something was wrong, there was a lump that shouldn't be there, it got in the way. . I sat on my sister's bed and I didn't know what to do, I tried to push it so it wouldn't be seen, I wanted to rip it off, it wouldn't let me be the girl I wanted, finally I pulled it back, I hid it between my legs, and I pulled up my panties. I went back to the mirror and for the first time, I saw the girl who would slowly grow up in my life.

I returned for the skirt and I put it in front of the mirror even with the boy's shirt I was wearing, what I saw in front of me was exactly the girl I wanted to be. I don't know how long I stared at it, I remember moving from side to side and turning to see how the skirt moved, then I thought about putting on the blue dress, but even with the innocence of being 4 years old, I knew it wasn't Right. I stuck my head out the door to see if someone was approaching and although my mom, brother, and sister were still downstairs, I didn't dare. Returning the panties and skirt to my sister's drawers, I put on my shorts and left the room with a strange combination of fascination and guilt.

In the middle of that school year, the separation came. My mom, sister, and I moved into an apartment and my mom started working full-time for the local TV station.

In the mornings, she would drop us off at school, my sister was in first grade and I was in the second grade of kindergarten, because of her work at the television station, my mom couldn't pick us up before five o'clock, so when we finished classes, my sister had an artistic gymnastics academy and since there were no extracurricular activities for kindergarteners, the idea was that I would wait for her while I watched her class, but from the first day, when the coach called all the girls to start stretching exercises, I lined up with them.

The coach saw me as her student's little brother and as long as I followed her instructions, she didn't seem to mind that I took the class. The truth is, I never knew if my mom also paid for me to take the class.

Weeks went by and pretty soon it became my favorite time of day. I was waiting for the regular classes to end to eat lunch with my sister and her friends and start the artistic gymnastics academy, the only thing I didn't like was having to wear my shorts and sports shirt instead of the leotards that the other girls wore.

Little by little I learned at the same pace as the girls. First, floor exercises, handstands, cartwheels, flic FLAC, and roundoff. After a few months, I was able to do the split and I was proud of it.

In the following months, we started practicing combinations of exercises and working on the balance beam as well. I think it was at this stage that I started to envy the other girls in the academy. Don't get me wrong, but I was 5 years old and I was just trying to do things the best I could, my points of comparison were my sister, who I deeply admired, and my classmates, so it was a bit annoying when after a pirouette On the balance beam, the other girls could land with their legs spread on the sides of the beam and the teacher wouldn't let me even try. "You could break something," she said.

Although I was only 5 years old, I understood what she meant, but I only told her that nothing was going to happen to me, I never dared to tell her that I already knew what was bothering me or that I had already taken care of hiding it before class so it won’t get in the way.

I also began to find it frustrating that at the end of a combination, the girls raised their arms palms out and gracefully rotated femininely to both sides. Of course, I did the same, but the teacher always corrected me and said that I had to finish the exercises with my fists clenched or my palms facing in to see myself as a man and not as a girl. I think that comment from the teacher (repeated several times) was what made me sure, from that age, that I didn't want to see myself as a man. At 5 years old, without any sexual element in the subject, I knew I did not want to see myself as a man but as a girl.

Until that point, the rhythmic gymnastics academy was nothing more than an activity that I enjoyed and nothing more, I had not questioned anything about wanting to be a boy or a girl, but from there, I began to become aware of the differences between boys and girls. It wasn't just being able to wear a leotard, (which I loved) it was how they moved, how people treated them, how they smiled, how they moved their heads and moved their hair when they greeted or said goodbye with a smile. I was fascinated by girls and everything related to them.

The life situation with my mother and my sister made it easier for me to become very attached to my sister and to be like the attaché when I was with her friends, I began to try to be part of her group, to pay attention to her talks and to play with them “ girls' games” such as the hopscotch or the gra w gume.

I think because of my age, nobody saw it as weird, it was just the little brother playing with the older sister and her friends, the only thing my sister never let me participate in was when she played with her dolls, but apart from that, little by little I became another girl in the group, to the point where the teacher stopped correcting my exits, in which I tried to be the most feminine of all.

On the other hand, all my need to be one more girl in the group was satisfied during class hours and at the rhythmic gymnastics academy, when I got home, my sister went out with her friends and I played with Charlie, a neighbor with whom I got along very well, even when I went out with my mom and sister to a restaurant, it was common for the waiter, after asking my mom what she was going to eat, to ask something like "and for the ladies ?" At that time, I still acted offended and answered in the manliest voice possible: "I'm a boy... and I want apple juice"

They usually answered with a surprised face "Sorry, he's too cute for a boy!" comment that at first annoyed me, but over time it caused me a certain feeling of pride.

This was my second year of kindergarten. During the summer holidays I managed to avoid getting my hair cut, we played with the neighbors, we went on different weekend trips with my dad, and a couple of gymnastics competitions in which I could not participate “because there was no category for my age” they said. The annoying thing was that I saw girls my age participating and nobody told me why I couldn't enter if I did better than them.

The following school year began, my sister in second grade and I in pre-first, which was a requirement for being a bilingual school. With my sister and her friends, everything was the same, the recesses were at different times, but since my mother left us at school, almost always more than an hour before the entrance until the bell rang, I was with them doing whatever they did and as soon as the normal class time was over I would run to look for her

It began to happen to me that some talks I didn't understand some very well because they began to talk about boys. Until that moment, the only person I had liked physically was my friend Kathy from first grade in kindergarten. So when they talked about their fourth or fifth-grade mini-crushes, I looked at them very carefully to see if I could see them as handsome as the girls said they were, but no.

I saw them as any other boy, without grace, no attraction, and always poorly dressed. Since I really wanted to be one more girl in the group, I really tried to see them as handsome, I paid attention to their features, their eyes, and their muscles, which the girls said were the best. The most I managed to do was recognize that some were less unpleasant, that some had a nice smile or were slightly more attractive, but I didn't understand why they were seen as handsome. I assumed that it was a matter of age and that later on, I would see them as the other girls saw them.

The rhythmic gymnastics academy continued and I returned to my attempt to be just another girl in the group, in fact, when we ordered the new uniform leotard for my sister, I asked my mom if she could request mine too. She tried to hide her concern and just told me that there wasn't one for my age and that she couldn't buy me another one because only the uniform ones could be worn at the academy.

It was still not clear to me how it could be better for me to take the class in those horrible shorts and sports shirt instead of in a leotard even though it was not the uniform, but my mom just let the episode pass and I stopped insisting until that our birthday was approaching.

My sister and I had our birthdays in November less than two weeks apart, and even though my mom had a good job as a production assistant at the local TV station, what she could save was good, so my mom suggested throwing a party for the two at the same time, each one could invite their friends, but we could have shared activities, cake, and piñata. Everything was going well until my mom sat us down in the living room to ask us what we would like to do at the party.

I had no idea and as always, I was willing to follow my sister who had a great idea! Let the party be rhythmic gymnastics themed! The idea seemed great! She was going to invite all her friends and classmates and have a competition with floor exercises in the garden.

I guess the excitement got the best of me, not only did I agree with my sister's idea, but I got really excited because, for me, it was also the opportunity to finally be in a competition and wear a leotard!

My sister was quick to say that I could be a judge, but I couldn't participate because I didn't have a leotard. I told her she could lend me hers from last year.

- I'm going to lend that to my friend Magali

- But Magali has hers, I told her. By that time it had turned into an argument where I felt like my sister was excluding me from the party and I didn't even realize it was a gender issue. I wanted to be in that competition and it was also my birthday. My mom didn't even know what to say.

Today I understand that my sister was openly looking for excuses not to allow me to participate, at that moment I only felt rejected by one of the people I admired the most and it hurt me a lot.

- It's just that Magali broke hers and she asked me to borrow the one from last year so she could go to class.

- It isn't true! I told her, even if it had broken, they wouldn't let her go with last year's, that's why they won't let me use it!

- but she asked permission. Ana Lilia said,

- It's not true! What happens is that you love your friend more than me!

I started to cry.

My mom intervened at that moment. You don't believe that right?

- Yes, she always prefers to be with Magali and they never let me do what they do and Magali has everything! She plays with Ana Lilia, enters competitions, and has her leotard and,

- But I'm telling you that it broke,

- Well, her mom can buy her a new one, but not to me, because they don't sell for my age, and you prefer to lend it to her.

- You can't use it, Ana Lilia said.

- Why not? I asked.

- Because you're a boy! A lump will be visible there! She said defeated...

- Nope! You won't see anything there! I told her, knowing that I had already tried on her panties several times and that I could hide everything just by pulling them back.

My mom, who still didn't know what to do, asked me: Do you really want to enter the competition?

But they are older girls, maybe your sister doesn't want you to go in because they're going to beat you.

No, she doesn't want to because she loves her friends more, but I can beat them, or at least come second to her. I do it better than Magali and most of the other girls.

- Of course not! Magali is very good and you can't even do the full split.

- "Yes I can," I said. Look!

- I spread my legs until I touched the floor in a perfect split position. –

- What happens is that with the shorts you don't notice when I do it in class...

- It won't even fit you! Said, my desperate sister!

- Of course, it suits me... or... let me try it on, you'll see if it suits me...

- Finally, my mom gave in: Well, let him try it on... let's see if it fits...

- Mom but... my mom interrupted her.

- Let him try it on...

- My sister went to her room, came back, and put the leotard in my hands.

- Come on, put it on, you're going to look ridiculous! Everyone will see that you are a boy in a leotard!

- No, no one will notice...

- How can they not notice? What do you think they will say?

- Well, they're going to think I'm a girl like any other from the artistic gymnastics academy!

- Is that what you want people to think? my mom asked.

- I was silent for a moment with the leotard in my hands. Ana Lilia didn't know what else to say.

- Go try it on, let's see how it looks on you...

- With an uncontrollable emotion, I dried my tears and ran to my room to put it on. I was very careful that everything was well hidden and with the elastic of the leotard, it was not difficult at all. I quickly looked at myself in the mirror, moved my hair with my hands to make it look a little more like a girl, and left.

- When they saw me, their mouths dropped open, and neither of them could articulate a word

- Do you like mom? How do I look?

- You look very... pretty... like a pretty girl. (that felt wonderful!)

- Then I can enter the gymnastics competition?

- My sister angrily locked herself in her room. On the way, he just said: Anyway, everyone knows him! What am I going to say?

- More than anything, my mom, stalling for time, asked me,

- Do you like the way you look?

- Yes mom! I said with a twist. I love it!

- And, that’s what you really want..? without waiting for an answer. why?

- I like it very much! And they never let me go in the team or do what the other girls do. I don't like to practice in shorts,

My mom breathed a sigh of relief as if she had seen a way out.

- So what you like is artistic gymnastics?

I nodded my head

- So I can be in our birthday competition?

- I don't know my son, we have to come to an agreement with your sister to see if we do that or have a celebration for each one of you... but I promise you that we are going to look for some academy that you can go to and that you like.

- I can't keep going to the academies at school?

- What happens is that if you want to go to competitions and wear the uniform... you need to go to an academy where they don't know that, where they think you're just another girl.

- Really mom? Can you take me to an academy like that?

- If that's what you want, he said with much more resignation than pleasure.

- Yes! That's what I want, I said full of emotion.

By this time, my mom trying to hold back her tears.

- But let's see, show me what you have learned, what routine would you do in the competition?

I put on a record that my sister had of Ballade pour Adeline and feeling like Nadia Comaneci I started the routine that I had mentally practiced a thousand times. At the end of the music, almost perfectly on time, I closed my floor exercise with a split.

My mom started clapping and my sister, who was watching from the door of her room, said:

- Very good, but you need to practice more to be at Magali's level

- Well, but it's the first time she's done it and she's two years younger! I think she did very well...

- Anyway, I'm not going to do the competition anymore, said Ana Lilia. I don't want to spend my birthday explaining myself

- Never mind, I told her. My mom already told me that she is going to put me in another academy. Right, mom?

- Yes, said mom, but if you're going to enroll in an artistic gymnastics academy, we can't say your name is Mario... can we?

- At the academy, they call her Mariane anyway, she should stay that way.

- Mariane? Do you like it? mom asked me

- Yes, but, I had thought of Valerie,

- Valerie Mariane? My mom said that, as a good soap opera producer, she had to think of a compound name.

- Yes! Said.

- Well little Mariane, give me my leotard... when mom enrolls you in the academy she will buy yours.