"You'll have to put on a T-shirt. You won't be able to go topless ever again." said Winona.
Cyn was 10 years old and had just started sprouting breasts. Bee stings. A fricken dairy section, of all things.
For as long as she could remember, Cyn had loved running around without a shirt on, just like George did. She especially loved swimming in their pool wearing her dark-blue bikini. Well, to be precise, she'd loved wearing half of her bikini. The top part of the bikini was pretty much a bra, which meant it was just too girly and lame to even be dealt with. After all, only girls wore bras. But the bottom part? Well, worn on its own, it looked like her brother's Speedo. So Cyn had spent years swimming in just her bikini bottoms so she could look more like her brother. It made her feel better and more comfortable because she didn't have to worry about what she looked like. Just like all the other boys.
But now that her traitorous body had decided to sprout decidedly female breasts and hips, it was becoming more & more difficult for her to pretend she was a boy. Nobody would believe that someone with breasts and wide hips was a boy, would they? And now this final insult: she'd have to cover up her chest. Permanently. Never again would she be able to run around the farm barefoot, topless and carefree, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. No, from now on she was becoming a woman - and women are expected to hide parts of their bodies away from public view.
So she wore the damn bikini top. But because she couldn't stand seeing her developing chest, she decided to wear a T-shirt over it too. Out of sight, out of mind.
-\\/,-
"Your school called again today. They said you left your swimming costume at home and had to miss your swimming lesson because you had your period… for the third time this month. Nobody has three periods in one month, Cyn. What gives?"
Cyn sat down dejectedly on the sofa. "Here we go again." she thought. They'd been through this subject so many times before and every single time had ended badly. How bad was it going to be this time?
"Mom, our school is very strict about about what we wear." she started.
"Yeah, so what?" answered Winona.
"Well, their rule for our swimming lessons is that the girls have to wear a one-piece swimming costume." Cyn hated the way that one-piece emphasised her hips and showed off her cleavage. It made her look so... female. "You know I like to swim in my bikini with a T-shirt over it, but I'm not allowed to do that at school."
"Cyn, those rules are there for a reason. They instil discipline and they help you figure out your place in society. You of all people should know how important that is."
Cyn looked down at her feet, stung by her mother's words. "I of all people." she said. Clearly it was time for them to tackle the elephant in the room again.
"Mom, I told my teacher that I'm very uncomfortable with my body and I asked whether I could wear a T-shirt over my swimming costume. But she wouldn't let me." It's not like Cyn could explain exactly why she was so uncomfortable with her body. After all, every time she'd tried to tell a grown-up that she was really a boy, they'd criticised her, laughed at her or even punished her. And if you are repeatedly punished for saying the same thing, you eventually learn that it's easier to just keep your big mouth shut.
"Last month, one of the other kids told the teacher that she had her period and the teacher let her sit out the lesson. I figured that if I said the same thing, I wouldn't have to be seen in that swimming costume."
"That's just ridiculous!" cried Winona. "Cyn, lots of girls are uncomfortable about their bodies, but there's nothing wrong with yours! You've got a great figure - you should be proud to show it off!".
"But Mom, that's the problem! I hate my body because it's a girl's body! How many times have I told you that I'm really a boy inside? I don't want people to see me with these disgusting breasts and hips!". Cyn started sobbing. "How can I make you understand? I can't stand anyone seeing me like this!"
Winona stood with her hands on her hips, regarding her troublesome daughter. Cyn had been repeating this nonsense about being a boy for about five years now. Surely she'd grow out of her tomboy phase soon enough? Maybe what she needed was a shock to the system.
"You know what?" said Winona. "When I was expecting you, I was convinced you were going to be a boy. I don't know how... I just had a feeling that I was carrying another son. We were so convinced that your Dad and I even picked out a boy's name for you. We were going to name you 'James Tiberius', after your grandfathers. But you were born a girl, and you are a girl. You'll just have to grow out of this stupid tomboy phase. I agree with your teachers. I'm going to talk to them tomorrow and I'm going to make sure you take your swimming costume in with you every single week from now on!"
Cyn ran to her room, crying hysterically. It was so unfair. Why should she have to feel so desperately awful about her perfectly healthy body? Why wouldn't anybody listen to her?
Then again... 'James Tiberius Kirk'. She really liked the sound of that. It sounded more distinguished than 'Bob', at any rate.
A/N: That was a very tough chapter to write. I still tend to burst into tears several decades later when I think about that school and how my teachers made me feel - so when Cyn started crying, so did I. The reality was even worse than the dramatisation written above.