I just stood there looking at her looking at herself. It was always that way. I don’t think she realized how much time she took “adjusting” her hair in the mirror, fixing her make up or making sure her collar was tucked just the right way. She positively didn’t know that each time she washed her hair she used half a bottle of cream rinse for those golden brown tresses that flowed to her bra strap. I truly doubt she would care even if she knew. Big sisters are good for that kind of thing. They never realize what they are doing and how it affects the little sisters. For me, it was something that I got used too.

When I was developing within my mother as the third child in the family, I was supposed to be developing a penis. Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that and I popped out with a vagina instead. So instead of being name “Carl” after my grandfather, I was instead named “Carla.” It is a miracle of the alphabet that the simple addition of one letter can change your gender isn’t it? As the youngest of the three girls, I got to grow up watching what the other two girls did before me. My middle sister was the beauty. My oldest the hellion. I found myself watching both with a morbid kind of fascination.

The question I asked myself all the time when I looked at my middle sister was, “Who the hell is going to look at me when she’s around?” I sincerely thought that even IF I was able to snare myself a boyfriend that as soon as he saw the tall, leggy, long haired petite frame of my sister that he would be in absentee in a heartbeat. THEN I thought if my middle sister didn’t snare him with her beauty, my oldest sister would snag him with her sex appeal and her willingness to have sex with anything short of a marsupial. I was destined for spinster hood I felt deep in my heart. So it was I went through the first part of my awareness of being female feeling that I really should have been born a “Carl” after all.

Further along in puberty journey I experienced the joy of pubic hair, arm pit odor, my period and pimples. Ohhh were there pimples. When I hit high school there was virtually no skin visible on my face…it was canvassed with pimples. I was so ashamed I didn’t want to go to school. My father used to ask my mother, “Isn’t there anything the dr’s can do about that?” He never knew I heard him and again, I was too embarrassed to tell him I did. My mom took me to a dermatologist who used some kind of fire extinguisher to freeze the pimples off my face. In addition to that, he gave me a prescription for tetracycline which is an antibiotic used for acne. There was only one problem. It gave me hives. Now, not only did I have severe acne and braces, I had hives that made me look the “total” package.

The kids in high school were very, very kind. NOT…They called me pizza face, zitt queen and a dozen other cruel things. I despaired of anyone, a GUY, every looking at me with anything other than horror or pity. There was even one boy who was so cruel that he drove by my house one afternoon and screamed “Pizza face” out the window of his car. It was a proud moment. My middle sister went to the vice principal the next day and complained about it. That was back in the day when the schools cared about what happened to their students off campus. I know her intentions were to protect, but I was so numb with the name calling I didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, the acne started to clear up and the name calling stopped. Because I didn’t have much confidence in myself, I immersed myself in “Saddle Club” with my horse that my mother had leased for me. We couldn’t afford one of our own.

I used to drive my moped for forty five minutes to get to the farm that my horse, “Little Miss” was on. I had babysat a little boy for a whole summer to afford that silver mode of golden transport. I had to ride it through Amish country and the stares I used to get were long. I could literally FEEL the eyes of the country folk on me until I got past viewing distance. To be honest I felt wicked when I drove past their dark, silent homes and would rev my pitiful little engine as I went by. It was my own little form of personal defiance and rebellion. At that time in my life, being with my horse brought me a peace that I just wasn’t able to feel with any human being. Until one day when I thought I was alone in the barn. It turns out I wasn’t.

I was just standing there, nose to nose with my horse. She patiently absorbing my scent and loving me and I was just being grateful there was a living thing that did love me. When we were together, it was if time stood still and the world was quiet just for those few moments. Suddenly, I heard the sounds of footsteps in the hall. It startled me because I thought that Little Miss and I were alone in the barn. The footsteps got closer and closer and finally stopped right in front of the stall. I looked up through the chaff of the straw and sawdust to see a young man.

He was tall, that was obvious right away. He was wearing jeans that I just knew without looking were covering a nice ass. How I knew without looking I couldn’t say, but I knew it. His hair was black, his eyes were a deep brown and boots were on his feet. The flannel shirt he was wearing was tucked into the waist of his jeans and was open down to the third button. I was grateful he had chosen to tuck his shirt in that afternoon. It gave me the opportunity to see that he had broad shoulders and a tapered waist. I could see golden skin tanned by nature due to those three buttons being undone. His skin was smooth and I felt a wild impulse to press my face into the hollow of his neck and breath his skin. For the first time in my young life, I felt a tingle between my legs and my nipples tightened. Not having felt these feelings before, I could do nothing but stand there and stare. A few moments passed by and I realized that I was not the only one staring. He was also taking a good long look at me. I stared at him and he stared at me for I don’t know how long. Finally he smiled revealing beautiful white teeth and a John Travolta style cleft in his chin. His smile illuminated his entire face. “Hi”, he said…”I am Jim….who are you?

To be continued………

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