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August 27th, 2010

Hi, my name is Jamie Dexson. First off, I want to say how stupid I feel introducing myself to my own journal, but my mother's 'friend' Catherine says--and my mother agrees!--I need to open up more, that I'm disconnected from everything around me and there's repressed anger within me...

Of course I'm disconnected from everything around me! I'm a twenty year old boy who's pretending to be a twenty year old girl!

I've never said anything to my mother about how much I hate dressing up as a girl. I didn't argue when four years ago I was told I had to trade in my tools and motorcycle magazines for pantyhose and lip gloss. I didn't throw a fit when I had to shave my legs and underarms. I didn't make a fuss when I was told to grow my hair out, or bellyache when my mom or Catherine put little glittery flower pins in my hair.


I never said one word to my mother about how I hated having to become a girl...

Until Catherine forced me to keep a record of my feelings.

I'm not one to show my displeasure. When Catherine and my mom told me I would be dressing up as a girl, I shrugged my shoulders and said 'fine'. Not a normal thing for a guy to say. I said nothing of the unfairness of changing my gender--in appearances only, of course. And because I've never voiced my anger in having to change my life to become a girl, in any way, my mother's lover suggested I start keeping a journal. I didn't want to. Writing about my feelings is just as bad as talking about them, but when it came down to talking about my feeling or writing about them, I chose writing.

I'd stayed quiet this whole time because I don't want to give my mother any more problems than I've already caused her due to my existence. Years of watching my mom cry when she thought I wasn't around, which is why I caved, and why I'm writing in my new journal right now.

...So, no matter how stupid I feel, I'll keep writing in this tablet to make my mom happy. If anyone deserves happiness it's my mother.

I was born a healthy baby boy on the 23rd of October, 1990 and had blond hair and green eyes.

Yes, had.

Four years ago, I began dying my hair a dark brown and started wearing brown contacts.

The horrible part is I'm able to pull off being a girl. I'm a sad height of five feet two inches, and I look like my mother. Now, when I say I look like my mother, I mean I really look like my mother. I get my hair and eye color from my father but my face is a mirror image of my mom's. Every boy's dream, right?

In essence, I appear more female than male.

Hell, if I wore boy's clothing outside, people would probably think I was a girl trying to be a boy. My voice hasn't deepened enough for anyone to question what sex I am... and as of yet I still haven't been able to grow any stubble on my face.



How does a twenty year old man, disguising himself as a girl begin his daily life?


1. Use the toilet. Brush my teeth. Wash my face. Typical morning stuff.

2. Put in my colored contacts.

3. Change from my boxers to panties--special panties my mother created to 'smooth out the lumps'.

4. Wear a special bra my mother made so everyone can see that I have boobs. I have a large selection to choose from... my mother's really into inventing these kinds of things for me... yay...

5. Get ready for the new day. Normal things everyone does to get ready in the morning except, I wear skirts more than pants.

6. Apply a light amount of make-up. It's a sad day when a boy knows the difference between a liquid eyeliner, eye pencil, and soft eyeliner crayon...

7. Eat breakfast and spend my day making damn sure no one finds out I'm a boy.

8. Come home and take a bath, which washes more of the homemade brown dye from my hair.

Note: Because I have to continuously dye my hair, it came to the point where my mother started to make it. I was surprised how easy it was... but because my hair dye is made from berries and other natural stuff, it washes off very quickly. Every other day I have to reapply the color. Funny, but it makes my hair very silky and shiny. I wonder if I should be happy about that.

9. Go to bed and repeat the process the next day.

"Jamie, sweetheart! You need to wax your legs, so don't shave them when you take your bath, okay? Jamie? Sweetheart, did you hear me?"

9. Climb out my window, wait until my mother is asleep, then sneak back in, go to bed, and repeat the process the next day.

One of the reasons I decided to keep a journal--besides getting Catherine's nagging ass off mine--is I thought maybe one day, when I'm old and gray, I'll read this and think, "Man, my life was interesting."

Or something like that.

Oh... and the reason I have to pretend I'm a girl and deceive everyone around me?


Someone wants to kill us.

Available @  Silver Publishing

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