I was 12 years old, and on camp with the scouts. Camps were mixed, boys and girls went together, but we slept in separate tents, and most of the activities were also separate. One day I got sick, the very day my group left on a 2-day trip. One of the leaders studied medicine and advised me not to go. There I was, alone in my tent.
Some girls my age found me. They thought I was so lonely there by myself. They asked their leaders if I could join them. One of the leaders was my older sister. It was okay, it was allowed, and I felt a little less sick right away 😉 I admit it, I liked to hang out with the girls. The vibe among the boys was rather harsh. You had to be tough, and strong. And although I did manage to keep up most of the time, I didn’t always like it.
I didn’t think about being transgender back then, I didn’t even know the word, and I hadn’t experimented with girls’ clothes at that age, but I do remember how much I enjoyed being with the girls. I was a bit shy, but they were so welcoming. There was a joke that I had to put on the uniform skirt, but it was just a joke. Honestly, I wouldn’t have dared back then. Out of shame.
I remember the activity: an opposite day. Activities at night, sleeping during the day. Making torches, hiking through the fields. I was one of them. One of the girls. I didn’t have to be tough. I just had to join in. I ate with them. They let me sleep in the tent with them. And no, I wasn’t peeking. When they were changing, I went outside, even though they didn’t think it was necessary.
Afterwards, my leaders were angry. They didn’t think it was appropriate that I had done that. They thought I asked for it. Fortunately, one of my friends said that the girls had suggested it themselves.
Case closed.
And still a very fine memory.
Louise Loverix' musings 