Dear Mike

Writing this blog, I receive a lot of letters, but I never received one like the following from Emily... a letter she wrote to her young self.

Dear Mike,

I hope this letter was delivered to you the moment you stepped off the stage at Lakeland Day Camp. Right now, you feel alone, miserable, humiliated and so ashamed of yourself that you don’t know how you’re going to face your family and friends. At the age of seven, you just endured what feels like the most awful moment of your life. You’ll wonder for a long time why it happened and why it happened to you. 

I know this because when I was seven, I had the exact same experience because you are the little boy who grew up to be me. My name is Michael, but when I was your age, I was Mike. 

I know that we never chose to appear in that day camp’s show dressed up as a little girl. I remember the horror and embarrassment we felt when camp director Rick announced that, along with several other boys, we had to be one of the girls in his show. We were too ashamed to tell Mom and Dad about our part. The first Mom knew of it was a few minutes ago when we walked onto that stage.

I never forgot that lady who made us put on a petticoat, a pink dress and a hat that had blonde curls attached. She applied makeup onto our faces. We didn’t want her to do that. When she was finished, Rick offered us lemonade. We recoiled when we discovered that our lips left a lipstick imprint on our Dixie cup. We set it down and told Rick that we didn’t want it. That’s when Rick reached under our costume and touched us. 

I know that you think the reason he touched you was to shame you for being a boy in a dress. You were embarrassed and felt helpless. However, I know the real reason Rick touched us that way. He was a bad man who hurt children. That kind of touch isn’t anything any adult should do to a child, ever. In fact, it’s against the law. He should have been punished.

You blame yourself, but eventually, you’ll realize that you did not cause any of that to happen. It’s not fair, but Rick chose you and me to be one of his victims because he liked that sort of thing. He had no concern for what we wanted. All he cared about was what he wanted. 

If it’s any comfort, you’ll never see Rick again. Tonight you’ll tell our parents that you’re refusing to return to Lakeland Day Camp and you won’t. 

I didn’t.

In a few moments, you’re going to take off that dress and try to wipe off the makeup, but no matter what you do, some boys will tease you about today. They’ll claim that you wanted to do it and they’ll say that you turned into a girl. Some boys are going to call you “Cecelia.” That’ll hurt and you’ll deny that you were in the show. It won’t help. They’ll tease you more. However, in a few weeks, it’ll stop. 

You’ll be Mike again. 

And, I’m afraid that in a few minutes, when you’re back in your own clothes, Mom is going to ask you if you wanted to play a girl in the show and she’ll ask if you had fun. 

I didn’t like it when she asked me that. I didn’t handle it well. I screamed at her to shut up and pitifully denied I was in the show. I have no idea what she thought occurred, but I wouldn’t talk about it to her or to anyone else. Not talking was a mistake on my part. Neither of our parents ever raised the topic again. 

They should have.

I suggest that instead of yelling at Mom as I did, tell her that Rick made us dress up and tell her that he touched us. However, I know that you believe Mom and Dad can’t imagine how or why you, their son, allowed himself to be in any show dressed like that; and you’re positive that they’re deeply ashamed of you.

In fact, you’re going to believe for a long time that anyone who saw us on the stage this afternoon or who knew what happened will never again see you as Mike the boy they know. You’re convinced that all they’ll see is a little sissy who this afternoon wanted to be Cecelia.

At the age of seven, you don’t realize how much our parents, our brother, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins love and adore us. Mom and Dad love you more than you can imagine and while they messed up today, their love for us never wavered.

My lifelong friends, some of whom you already know, either never knew of or don’t remember, what happened this afternoon. Even if they did, our friends would still love and respect us for who we are and wouldn’t judge us because this afternoon Rick wanted to feel up a little boy. 

Someday you’ll meet a woman who won’t care that any of this happened today. She will love us for our whole lives.

It’ll take awhile for you to realize it, but what happened on and off that stage today will be forgotten by everyone in the world except for you and me. 

Yet, you’re blaming yourself. I know you are. 

Rick did not ruin you. His actions do not define you. He might have hurt you, but you are still you and I am still me. A person shouldn’t have to forgive himself for being a victim, but please don’t shoulder that blame. It took me too long to figure all that out, but I have forgiven myself. 

Please forgive yourself too. 

One day you’re going to want to dress up as a girl again. You won’t understand why, but when that happens, you don’t have to worry about that. It’s OK to do that. It’s just who you are. You don’t need to forgive yourself for that either.

Love,

Mike

Wearing Zimmermann

Schafer, a professional femulator, circa 1900