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Blogger Parts Index -----------------------------------------------
Part
1: https://irenenaridzastorycaptions.blogspot.com/2023/10/mommys-girl-part-1.html
> Part
2: https://irenenaridzastorycaptions.blogspot.com/2023/10/mommys-girl-part-2.html
Part 3: https://irenenaridzastorycaptions.blogspot.com/2025/01/mommys-girl-part-3-end-of-cycle.html
Part
4: Coming Soon…
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----- Part
2 – A Slow Day -----
-- Written by “Irene Naridza”
It
had been a few months since my mom decided I should wear skirts and dresses,
not to mention those annoying ballerina outfits. There's just one problem with
that, I’M A BOY. Boys don’t wear girly things like that. I should be practicing
soccer right now. But instead, I’m stuck here, dressed like a girl in a
ballerina outfit. Now I’m going by the name ‘Nadia’ I hate that name, but it’s
the one I have to adopt to keep up the facade of the ‘obedient girl’ my mom is
forcing me to be. It annoys me, but then I remember the alternative is using my
real name, Nathan. That would cause everyone to know I’m actually a boy.
That’s
the last thing I want right now. My friends would see me as effeminate, and the
girls would see me as some kind of weird pervert. I’m neither of those. I’m
just a boy whose mom is forcing him to be a girl. Unfortunately, no one would
believe me. That’s why I’ve decided to keep up appearances for as long as my
suspension lasts. At least it’s only a few days now. I still don’t know what it
will be like to go back to high-school with this punishment hanging over my
head.
A soft sound of bells signals the end of class and the chance to rest our muscles. It’s the signal that class is over, so we can take a short break before heading home. I walk over to the lockers and grab my things: a simple bag with spare ballet clothes, regular clothes, my phone, wallet, a water bottle, and my house keys.
It’s
a relief that the dressing rooms have private stalls. I wish high-school were
the same way. I throw on some baggy pants and a hoodie over the tights and
leotard. The one thing I do take off is the ballet slippers, swapping them for
some sneakers with light blue stripes. I’m not using pointe shoes yet, the ones
you stand on tiptoe with, but Madame Melody has already told us about them.
I
exchange a few goodbyes with my classmates before leaving. “See you Tuesday, Nadia.” I recognize the voice of my ballet teacher. “See you, Madame Melody,” I reply before
heading out of the studio. She’s a kind woman, no doubt, though very strict at
times. Those first days, even just the warm-ups were pure torture. But now,
I’ve clearly gotten used to it. I think she’s the only one who knows who I
really am, but she keeps the secret.
It
doesn’t take long to get home. Just a 10-minute bus ride, and I’m there. I’ve
learned to tolerate the stares of other people. I know they’re not looking at
me thinking, “Gross, an effeminate boy.” The disguise works quite well.
Still, I feel uncomfortable when someone stares for more than a second. Mom
says I can’t blame them “Not every day you see a
radiant ballerina riding the bus.” That’s
not true. Several of my classmates also take the bus. Ugh, how annoying. Maybe
she’s right when she says I worry too much about others finding out. If they
haven’t figured it out in two months, why would they now? Besides, my ballet
outfit isn’t visible.
When
I get home, I notice no one’s there. My mom is staying late at work or out at
some meeting with her strange friends. The life of an adult woman is a
whirlwind of responsibilities. After taking a shower to wash off the sweat from
ballet class, I put on an outfit my mom picked out. Somehow, she always knows
if I’m being her “Mommy’s Girl” or not.
I
doubt she’s told any of our neighbors to spy on me, that’s terrifying and the
last thing I’d want. Plus, Mom is a pretty private person. It must be some
hidden camera like the ones they use on TV shows.
Now
comes the hardest part for me, which is...I hate to admit it, but I kind of
like this outfit. Don’t get me wrong. I hate wearing girl clothes. But if I’m
forced to wear them anyway, I’d rather it be something I like.
The
outfit is a plain blue dress, a white sweater with diamond patterns, white
tights embroidered with tiny circles, and black flats. I like the details of
the circles and diamonds since they look like stars at first glance. I don’t
waste any more time and get dressed. I still have to finish drying my hair,
it’s long now.
Mom
already taught me how to braid it myself, but I think I prefer to leave it loose
this time. I look at myself in the mirror after all that and barely recognize
myself. It’s incredible how much my appearance has changed in such a short
time. If I didn’t know it was me, I’d want to talk to the girl in my
reflection.
To Be
Continued…
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If you find any misspellings or a dead link, please let me know ------------
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Writer’s Opinion ---------------
·
Hello. There is a second part from the story. Many of you were asking
one. Sorry if it’s not exactly what you expected. But I will hear any you have
to say about it. Hope you like it.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH for WATCHING ------------------------------
