Deviations

My earliest profound realization happened when I was 8 years old. I had always been jealous of my sisters things. I remember her having socks with ruffles on the ankle and thought mine looked boring by comparison. I liked my toys but hers were I found more fun then my own sometimes. One such time was her Barbie Dream house. It had a neat little elevator and every room a person would need to live. It made an impact on my memory as much as my mickey train set. When I heard my sister was having a sleep over, I wanted to be part of it. She was going to have her friend from school over. I begged my mother to let me be part of it. She said it was going to be a girl thing and I wouldn't have fun. I didn't believe her. I always had fun when I got to be included in my sisters play. I looked up to her and wanted to be like her. Eventually my mother caved. She made my sister let me join. The two girls slept on the bed and I laid on the floor next to it. The time came for us to sleep and the lights went out. I heard whispering from the bed above. "Wait until 'he' is asleep." I pretended like I didn't hear it. I was curious so I pretended to sleep. I think I may have even pretended to snore. I doubt it seemed real looking back at it now. Eventually my sisters friend whispered "Are you awake." I did not answer. I tried peaking through my eyes to see what was happening but tried to remain as still as possible. When I did not answer they went and turned on the lights. My sister grabbed her "Caboodle" off her vanity and they crouched down next to me. They started with makeup brushes and fingernail polish. I tried my best not to grin while thinking I was fooling them. I do not know how they could have not known. I felt like the smile I was trying to hide was giving me away. Eventually my sisters friend dropped the perfume bottle on my face after applying some liberally. They freaked out. lol They had fully done my makeup and nails and had even slipped a nightgown over me. Pink and silky. It had little ruffles on the hems, like the socks when we were younger. I guess they were so proud of themselves not waking me up during my makeup they believed they couldn't wake me while lifting parts of my body to put the gown in. being that they were roughly 10 or 11, naive would have been appropriate. "Are you awake?" they asked. I lay there doing my best dead person impersonation. Their questioning intensified and fingers started poking my ribs. I was committed to the bit at this point. But I had to appear I was groggy and awoke with a feigned daze. They explained what they had done, and I casually accepted it. I pretended it was nothing. I truly loved every minute. It was fun being made up. Being pampered and having your nails and make up done brought a warmth and comfort to me. It was weird. I didn't understand why but I wanted to feel like this again. They asked if they could continue and I replied "Yeah, I don't care." They asked me to sit at the vanity. I did and gazed in the mirror. What I saw in the mirror wasn't perfect. Hair was short and eye shadow was a bit patchy and mis-aligned. But that grin was impossible to hid. It was reflected back to me as my sister and her friend left to look for more things to complete the look. After the night was over my sister explained to my mom about my nails and was afraid she would be in trouble. Mom said I would have to go with the nails for a while because she did not have remover. I remember leaving with my Step-Father that weekend to go to his hunting friends house. My nails were still a bright red. His friend and him had laughed at it. They were a joke to them. After we had gotten home I was sad. I didn't want to be a joke. It was not a joke to me. It was joy. It was happiness. But it was only that for me. To my sisters, to the adults, it was a joke. A prank. A laugh. I took a butter knife and scrapped the red away as much as I could. Eventually all gone and nails returned to their normal skin tone.