Cindy Growing Up

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Cindy Growing UpMy first memories are of my mommy playing dolls with me in mycrib, and singing softly as she nursed me. I grew quickly, and Iwas a chatty little k**, and by four Mom would take me out toplay with the other little girls. I remember always being dressedin skirts and layer after layer of soft, frilly underwear.I was treated like a little princess, and by five I was told thatmy father had died just after I was born, leaving Mom enoughmoney to raise me without worry. I also learned I was differentfrom the other little girls. Mom explained that some people areborn without parts, like my friend Linda, who had only threefingers on each hand. And sometimes they are born with the wrongparts, like me. All the other girls had innies, but I had anoutie, just like the boys, even though I was a girl.Not that it mattered much. Mom gave me some special underwearthat let me look like the other girls with my panties on. Andsince it was a bad thing to let others see my private parts, noone but me knew. Mom was death on fighting, so I learned tobehave like a young lady, or risk standing for my supper.By third grade I was a real tom-boy. Mom got me an excuse forgym, so I wouldn’t have to show anyone my secret. I always woreshorts and jeans when I played. But I loved how I looked in oneof the beautiful dresses Mom was always buying me. And she boughtmore when she found I would wear them much more often if she letme wear heels and makeup.In fourth grade mom let me get my ears pierced twice, and myfirst compete makeover at Mom’s beauty salon. I dressed as nicelyas I could for a week, carefully protecting my new, long, paintednails. Mom made me take dancing lessons, and every Tuesday andThursday evening I had to attend some sort of finishing schoolwhere I learned to move, act, and speak like someone out of amovie about royalty.And I learned fast. Mistakes were corrected with what I thoughtwas a wooden pancake turner. On my pantied bottom. At least onweekends she let me wear pants and shorts to play. Soon I couldout-wrestle and out-climb all the other girls my age.In the fifth grade I started to get funny feelings in my extraparts when I wrestled with another girl. And I started to playreal often with myself, which felt so good. I knew what I wasdoing because they had taught us about it in health class. A lotof the girls said they could do it five or six times. I couldonly do it two or three, and I had to wait a long time before Icould do it again.I had also started to grow. I was already a big, strong k**. NowI was becoming a big, strong, and tall k**. Mom seemed unhappywhen she found how fast I was growing. And not just because I wasoutgrowing my clothes faster than she could buy me new ones.At the beginning of sixth grade I started getting hair in my pitsand down in my crotch. When I told Mom I needed a razor, shealmost came unglued. The next week I got a Lady Gillette, and shetook me to the same special doctor I always saw for a checkup anda school physical. Soon I was given some vitamins she said wouldhelp me grow up as a healthy young woman. So I took them everyday, just as she instructed.I felt weird for a couple of weeks, and cried a lot. But after awhile I felt fine, maybe even a bit more relaxed. It was onlywhen I realized I was washing a lot fewer panties each week thatI figured out I was not playing with myself as often, and when Idid, it took a lot longer.I managed, red-faced, to tell Mom, and she said she understood,and told me to take the vitamins only every other day. Soon itwas easier to masturbate, but I still did not do it as often. ButI had other things on my mind. Girls. I was developing afascination about other girls. Which would sometimes make myextra parts hard, and get me all tingly inside.In health class they had taught us about homosexuality, so Iguessed I might be one of those girls they called lesbians. Whichdidn’t make sense but since it felt so good to hug and kiss othergirls, I quit worrying about it. Mom was really adamant about mystaying a virgin, and I didn’t want to catch some weird disease,so my clothes stayed on.Instead of seventh grade, Mom enrolled me in a private girls’school. I lasted three weeks. What a bunch of prissy littlesnots. I was the biggest and tallest seventh-grader, and nearlythe flattest. So I got teased a lot. When one of the eighth-gradegirls, who looked like an ad for a paint store, pinched one of mynipples “to see if I was really a girl”, I stuffed her head-firstinto a lunch-room trash can. Several times.She came out looking like a badly tossed salad. And I got tossedout on my ear. So it was back to public school. Boys there didn’tinterest me. Mom had taken me to the St. Louis Zoo, and we hadseen the monkeys. They were more interesting, and a lot funnier,than boys. But boys were sure interested in me. Mom said I hadgreat legs, and she let me wear really short skirts and shorts. And heels. No heels, no skirts. Bribery is not always one-sided.In eighth grade I suddenly started to grow again. Up and out. Momcomplained about having to shop for groceries three times a week. I complained that I ached all over, especially my breasts. Shegot me some cream, and told me to gently massage it into my skinat night. Once I used it, I was hooked. Gawd it felt great tomassage myself. Soon I found I could come, once, by giving myselfa long and sensual massage.As my chest grew, so did the number of boys pestering me. Then mybottom bloomed, and my hips got wider, I loved my new look, andfigured the boys were like flies; they followed anything sweetand edible.In tenth grade I met Joyce. By now I was six-one, and measured38-25-38 with a big chest and firm B-cup breasts. And lots oflean muscles. Mom wouldn’t let me do any competitive sports,saying my extra parts would get me in a lot of trouble. But therewere aerobics classes after school, and when the weather was goodI ran cross-country and swam. So my great legs got even better. Jiggling hurt, so I had to invest in several squash-em-flatsports bras. Which still didn’t deter the boys.Joyce was athletic like me, but in a really compact package. Oneday two guys were teasing her about being a dyke, and when one ofthem started fondling her, I lost my temper. I didn’t know a boycould sing soprano. It was quite a fight. Another boy, who wasreally big, tried to intervene and I tried to slug him. I hadbeen bounced off the ground once, the building twice, and was onmy way, butt-first, to a landing in a rose bush when the teachersfinally arrived to break up the fight.I did a lot of dancing and howling, and created a general ruckusas I tried to pull thorns out of my bottom and private parts. Allof us got sent home, and were told to bring our parents the nextmorning for sentencing. The big guy apologized for the rose bush,saying I fought really good for a girl. I surprised myself byreturning his handshake. When out hands met, I got a funnyfeeling inside, kind of like when I kissed a girl. Strange.Mom came to get me. I had to lay on the back seat of her car,because sitting was impossible with my backside full of thorns.Mom was giving me hell for fighting. When I finally told her shewas becoming more of a pain on the butt than the thorns, she madefunny noises and shut up. I spent the evening d****d over afootstool with my bare bottom in the breeze. Mom had a bottle ofperoxide, and a forceps. canlı bahis And no sympathy.I slept, some, on my stomach, and ate breakfast standing. I evenmanaged the bathroom without touchdown. Owww. I wound up wearingthree pairs of cotton panties so my skirt wouldn’t rub too much. Mom was not sympathetic. I had to travel on my stomach again.We all met in the principal’s office. The guy I had punted wasabsent, and we found he was both suspended for thirty days, andin the hospital being treated for severe bruising and swelling. Joyce commented about things the size of apples, and when itregistered, I cringed.The guy that was pounding on Joyce also got suspended for thirtydays, and ordered to pay her for her damaged clothes. Joyce waslimping, and I found she had sprained her ankle kicking him. Thebig guy, whose name was Emil, apologized, and was given asuspended three-day suspension. And he had to pay for the rosebush and my clothes. He was really sympathetic when I describedthe thorn removal and my inability to sit.As with all weird news, it was all over the school by secondperiod. Especially with Joyce limping and my having to stand inclass. At lunch. Emil joined us in the cafeteria, and I foundhim, well, interesting. He was the first boy that made me feelwarm and fuzzy inside. And that scared me, because I was notbuilt right for a girl.Joyce met me after school, and since sitting in a bus was not aoption yet, she hobbled home with me. We were quite a sight. Inmy heels I was nearly six-six, and in her tennis shoes she mighthave been five-two. I thought she was cute, though just a bit onthe blocky side. Her thighs were bigger and stronger than mine,and I thought her boobs were huge.After repeatedly thanking me for rescuing her the day before, shestopped us, and looked up at me. “Look, before you get yourselfhurt, what they said was true. I’m gay, a lesbian, a dyke. So ifit bothers you, tell me, and I’ll disappear.””Hey, guy’s don’t make my toes curl. Other girls do. But I don’tknow if I’m a lesbian or not. Especially after yesterday.”Her eyebrows went up. So I explained about Emil. She lookedreally confused. “So a guy who beats the crap out of you turnsyou on, but regular guys don’t? I nodded. “Gads, you’re as weirdas me!” She gave me hug. We wound up at my house, and spent therest of the afternoon chatting and doing homework. By lateSaturday all the thorns were out, and I could sit if I was verycareful. Joyce and I were rapidly becoming friends. And Emilcalled and asked me out on a date for Sunday afternoon.Mom had a fit, but finally agreed. He turned out to be a perfectgentleman. We went to a movie, Dutch. And left part-way through,mutually agreeing it was awful. So he took me to lunch. Betweenus, a large pizza was doomed. We headed for a mall, where heinsisted on buying me a replacement outfit. I expected him tosuggest something revealing. Instead he found me a super-softcotton circle skirt and a real angora sweater with a high neck. When I tried them on, the angora sent sensual overload warningthrough my whole body. I pulled it off, and took off my bra. Putting it back on was an incredible experience.I looked in the mirror. The bulges formed by my now very erectnipples were clearly visible. I looked at least eighteen. Andfelt really funny inside. When I wrapped myself around him, andgave him a deep, tongue-sharing kiss, he seemed startled, andthen scared. But he stayed with me the rest of the afternoon. AndI continued to tingle inside. When I asked Joyce about his and myreactions that evening, she was as confused as I was.Just before Thanksgiving, Joyce, Emil, and I were enjoying a hikein the nearby state park. We had become fast friends, and thepresence of Emil, who was the heart-throb target of nearly everygirl in the school, seemed to squelch the rumors about Joyce andme being lesbians. Which is funny, because I was pretty sure Iwas, but friendship was far more important to me than sex. We hadnever been intimate a bit. Except for some snuggles.We were bringing back several containers of frost-nippedblueberries when I stepped on a patch of moss, and with a mightyscreech, slid into an icy creek. By the time they managed to pryme up the slippery bank, I was sort of blue and shiveringuncontrollably. We were several miles from the trailhead, and Igot worse as we tried to hurry back.Emil halted us at a sheltered location, and pulled his emergencykit from his pack. I remember him throwing a silvery plastic tarpon the ground, and stripping my clothes off. Then he and Joycestripped, and sandwiched me between them, covering us with acouple more of the funny plastic tarps. I have only faintrecollections of them talking to me and keeping me awake andmoving until I started to become coherent. We stayed sandwichedlike that until I was no longer shivering.Joyce climbed out, and pulled all the dry clothing in with us. And got candy bars from the packs. We nibbled the food as theirclothes warmed. It was about that point that I realized I wascompletely naked, and started to shake and cry. “Cindy, what’swrong?””You, you took off all my clothes, and you’ve seen…” I startedto sob loudly.”That you are really a boy that dresses like a girl? It’s weird. But you’re our friend. And it was that or you would have died ofhypothermia.””But I’m not a boy! My mom said I’m a girl that was born withboy’s parts. Now everyone will know and laugh at me, and I’ll becalled a freak and…””And we won’t tell anyone. So quit worrying and stay warm, ’causeit’s getting late and we still have to get back to the trailheadbefore nightfall.” Emil pulled me against his naked body, and Iwas surprised to find he was hard. Very hard.Emil gave me his big sweater. I had to wear my wet socks, boots,and muddy pants, but it was not too bad. We made it, blueberriesand all, back to the trailhead just at dark. Once in Emil’s car,we turned the heat to maximum, and quietly roasted ourselvesbefore we headed home. Because I was still weak and shaking,Joyce and Emil helped me inside.”Cindy? My god, what’s happened?!” Mom met us at the door, andsaw them supporting me.”She slipped and fell in a creek, and got badly chilled. Wemanaged to get her warmed up using emergency blankets, but she isstill pretty weak. And she is scared silly because we had tostrip her icy clothes off, and learned her secret.”Mom stared at them, and when comprehension hit, she fainted.So we wound up carrying her to the couch, and wrapping her in acomforter. Joyce and Emil called home to tell their parents whathappened, and that they were going to stay at my house and keepme company until they were certain I was going to be okay. Ididn’t object as they collected blankets and made a cocoon of mein the big recliner. After a trip to the bathroom.They were feeding me warm broth and toast when mom woke up, andstarted to scream. So they held her until she calmed down. Iwanted to help, but could barely wiggle in my warm wrappings. “Ms. Wilson, please don’t worry. Cindy’s secret is safe with us.””But, but now you know she’s not really a girl, and…””WHAT!” I screamed at the top of my voice. “Mom, you told me Iwas a girl who was born with the wrong parts!” Emil came over andheld me.Mom started to cry again. She managed to force out “Cindy, thisis not the time or place for me to explain what has happened, andwhy. If you chose to hate me I will bahis siteleri understand, but for now,please, I love you.” She came completely unglued. Joyce held her,and Emil held me for a long time.Emil carried me upstairs, still wrapped tightly in the blankets,and put me to bed. He then undressed, and climbed in next to me. “Emil, you don’t have to do this. I’ve deceived you and hurt youand…””And you need sleep and I need to hold you.” He kissed me, and Idid my best to snuggle against him despite the cocoon. I was toospent and confused to think, and fell asleep in his arms.The next morning I woke, desperately needing to pee. Emil wasstaring at me from a few inches away. “Morning, beautiful.””Help! I’ve got to go and I can’t move and… ” He hopped up,naked, and proceeded to unwrap me. When the last layer came off,I managed to run, almost naked, for the bathroom. When I cameout, Joyce and Emil were waiting for me. Joyce, an angry look onher face, handed me a change of clothes, and pushed me back intothe bathroom.”You need a shower. And we need to talk.” I stared at her. Shepeeled my underwear off against my protestations, and started theshower. “Your mother and I had a long talk last night. She toldme the whole story.” I got shoved into the shower, and handed theshampoo. “What she did to you was wrong. Horribly, criminallywrong. But she did it out of love for you.” I started to saysomething. “No, she will explain it to you. She owes you thecomplete truth. Emil and I will be here to help you through thebad parts. Now finish up. She is making us all breakfast.” Ishivered despite the warm water.When I was finally dressed, Joyce escorted me down to the diningroom, where Emil was keeping an eye on Mom, who was red-eyed andhad a terrified expression on her tear-streaked face. “PleaseCindy, eat some breakfast, and let me tell you the whole story. From the beginning. Then yell at me, and hate me. And I won’tstop you if you want to leave.”I sat down, with a push from Joyce. The bacon, eggs, and toastwere wonderful. And I was starving. Emil and Joyce sandwiched mebetween them, and nibbled at their own food. Mom had barelytouched hers, sipped nervously at her coffee, then started.”Your father did not die just after you were born. He was anabusive drunk, and I divorced him out of fear for my life, andthat of my unborn c***d. You. But he was adamant that if you werea boy, he was going to take you away from me, and raise you to belike him.” She paused. “The midwife knew of his threat. So whenyou were born a boy, she put your name on the birth certificateas Cindy Marie Wilson, and marked the sex as female.Your father was disgusted you were born a girl, but did not leavetown. The reason I had enough money was the divorce settlementwas very large, and he had to pay a lot of c***d support. So Ifelt I had no choice but to raise you as a girl. And after hisabuse, I wanted you to grow up kind and gentle, so unlike him.” She started to shake, and sat there for a while with her head inher hands.”When you started to develop like a teenage boy, I could not facelosing the daughter I so loved and cherished. So the vitamins Igave you were hormones to cause you to mature as a young woman. And even when he finally died from his drinking last year, Icould not bear to tell you, because I knew you would hate me andleave me alone…all alone.” She put her head back on her arms. “If you hate me, I will understand. If you want me to leave, Iwill turn over everything I own to you, and move away. There ismore than enough money for you to live the rest of your life incomfort.” She started to cry again, and soon was wracked by hersobbing.”What she has not said is that the changes are mostly notreversible. Even if you are still capable of fathering c***dren,which is remotely possible, you will always be tiny down there,and will look like a girl.” Joyce glared angrily at my mother. “She has taken from you the choice of how to live your life. Youare my best friend, and I hate her for doing this to you.” Momsobbed louder.I looked over at Emil. Instead of angry, he looked extremely sad,and was shaking his head. “I can’t hate her. Your mother did whatshe did out of love and fear.” He put his hand out to me. “Cindy,I love you whether you are a boy or a girl. I love the personnamed Cindy. Don’t destroy the person I love out of hate andanger.” He pulled me to him and hugged me. I was confused, andangry, and sad, and so many things all mixed up that all I coulddo was cling to him. When I finally came to a conclusion, Ipulled away.”Joyce, you are my friend. Cindy’s friend. Can you be my friendknowing I’m really a boy?””I love you. I wanted to be your partner. And now I can’t becauseI know you are really a boy, and boys turn me off, and…” Shestarted to cry. I held her close.”Are you so certain that we can’t love each other as friends?” She looked up at me. “And maybe, just maybe, you need to find outif I really do turn you off.” I gave her a deep kiss, and shepressed herself against me. We shared that kiss until I could notbreathe. “But I need to tell my mother something. Now. So letEmil hold you for a while.” She snuggled against him, and Iturned to face my mom, who was staring at me in fear.I walked around the table to her. “I love you.” And crying,hugged her to me. She collapsed, sobbing, into my arms.”Thank god Thank god Thank god.” Was all she could manage. Westayed hugging each other, and were joined by Joyce and Emil. When we finally separated, we used up most of a box of tissues.Emil drove Joyce home, after promising they would be backtomorrow morning to pick me up for school. After they left, Momand I stared at each other across the table.”What are you going to do?” She looked afraid.I sat and thought. “Nothing for a few days. I want to get acomplete physical, from a different doctor, and find out if I canfather c***dren.” I closed my eyes and thought some more. “I haveno idea what it would be like to be a boy. All my life I havebeen Cindy. Maybe there are some counselors out there that knowabout this stuff, and can help me.””Should I still call you Cindy, or…””Mom, I am Cindy, your daughter. That will never change. Even ifI decide I want to be a boy, Cindy will always be here too.”We cried on each other again. Mom finally decided she was toostressed to make dinner, and suggested we go out. I went tochange, and she was startled when I came out of my room dressedin a microskirt and heels. “But…””Mom, this is me. The real me. The girl with the incredible legs,remember? No one is going to take that away. Besides, I likelooking pretty. It’s something I guess guys don’t reallyunderstand. But I can. And I think its great.” We headed out thedoor.At the beginning of Christmas break I received the results of myphysical. Mom had arranged for me to visit a university medicalcenter where they specialized in boys who wanted to become girls. The results were encouraging. I was still fertile, although mysperm count was very low. I had finished my growth, so nohormonal changes would further alter my bone structure. And I wasextremely healthy. They prescribed a different level of hormones,saying I needed a maintenance dose, which should have less effecton my fertility.While there, I spoke several times to a psychiatrist whospecialized in c***dren with what he called gender confusion. Herecommended canlı bahis siteleri a specific counselor in our area, but told me that Iseemed to be on a good track when I explained what I was planningto do.The four of us sat down together that Saturday morning overbreakfast. Mom was still scared, and both Joyce and Emil wereafraid I was going to do something foolish, or leave, or both. Ihad Mom give the rundown on my physical. Then, slowly sipping myorange juice, I made my announcement.”I have decided that I am going to stay Cindy. And probably livethe rest of my life as a woman.” Everyone jumped up and grabbedand hugged me. I finally had to pry them off and get them to sitdown. “The psychiatrist I spoke with said I can, if I want, learnto be a boy and eventually a man. He said that most boys who wereforcibly raised as girls, and yes, there are others, have alwayshated it. But I’ve been okay with who I am. Cindy. Who happens tobe a girl. He gave me some tests, and said I’m one of thosepeople who psychologically is neither strongly male or female. Hesaid I’m more male that female, but not enough to recommend Ichange how I live. In his words, if it isn’t broken, don’t fixit.He did say I will have some social problems unless I remainsingle and unattached, or can accept being considered by most asa lesbian. I had already made that decision, so it is not aproblem.” I took a deep breath, and looked at Emil. “He also saidI am probably a heterosexual male. At least in orientation. Whichexplains why girls have always turned me on, and guys don’t.” Thelook on Emil’s face was strained. “There are other legal concernsin some states, and I will need to have the proper documentationfrom a physician and a psychiatrist to ensure I don’t getdiscriminated against if my secret gets out.The medical doctors also said that I will have lots mechanicalproblems if I want to make love and father c***dren in the usualway, because I am so small.” Mom cringed and looked sad. “Forfathering c***dren, it won’t really be a problem, as they said itwill be easy to collect and store the needed sperm, which willalso help with my low counts. Provided my partner is willing, wecan use artificial insemination techniques. For sex,” I shrugged”both the medical doctors and the psychiatrist told me to acceptthe way I am, and learn other methods of giving and receivingsexual attention.”Everyone was watching me. Mom looked both relieved and miserable. Emil and Joyce seemed pensive, like there was something I hadleft out.Emil got up, and hugged me. “Cindy, does this mean we can atleast stay friends?” I looked at mom. And Joyce. And listened tothe tingling running through me.”Mom, can our budget stand my getting a three-bedroom hotel suitefor a week? I need to spend some private time with my two bestfriends.” Joyce glued herself to me.”Start packing. But be here for Christmas dinner.” The three ofus headed upstairs.”Call your parents and tell them you are spending the week withme.””But I’m not sure that…””That’s why there are three bedrooms. Emil, are you game?” Hiskiss left no doubt of his agreement. Joyce looked jealous.”Okay, I’m in. Who’s bringing the toys?” We both started at her. “Hey, if you’re going to be a lesbian, there’s a lot of ways tohave fun.” She grinned, then pouted. I tingled. “Um, I’m likebroke and well, there are some things I need and…””Tell my mom. I bet she’ll cover the costs. With a smile.”Packing my stuff was fast. Mom outdid herself. We were booked ata small retreat several miles from the city. She said it was a”luxury suite”. We stopped and collected Joyce’s and Emil’sthings, and headed out of town, via a little shop where Joycemade several purchases. We didn’t talk much, just glanced at eachother, and her packages, with questioning smiles.The first thing we noticed after checking in was the full, softlyburbling, king-size hot tub in the middle of the suite.I won’t describe what happened behind my bedroom door. Or in thehot tub. Suffice it to say that Joyce is a hardwired lesbian. Butshe taught me how to pleasure a woman without using my tiny maleparts. And how a woman can please another woman without evergoing below waist. We came to the realization that we were notdestined to be lovers, just very close friends. I think friendsare more important.Emil confessed to both of us the reason he acted so strangetowards me. We were in the hot tub at the time, and Joyce nearlydrowned trying not to laugh. “I’ve never been really sexuallyattracted to either boys or girls. So when you and I fought, andthen spent time together, I realized that, at least a little, youturned me on. Sex isn’t important to me, I do fine flying with mypersonal palm pilot if I get too much back pressure. But I havealways craved companionship. And there is something special aboutyou that makes me want to, well, take you and snuggle up in bed.” He was turning red. To his toes.After we rescued Joyce from trying to inhale too much chlorine,Emil and I retired to my room for the remainder of the day. Mmmm… I was surprised, but not astounded, when Joyce asked ifshe could borrow Emil for a few hours. They seemed relaxed whenthey finally came out for food. I didn’t ask.We came back a day early. We all had a lot of emotions thatneeded to be sorted through. Plus I was beginning to notice theeffects that greatly lowering my hormone dosage was having, anddidn’t want to upset people with my increased horniness andaggressiveness. By the end of the Christmas break, I wasirritable, drooling over pretty girls, and wondering if I wantedto give up any chance to be a boy to stop the emotional overload.When I called he Doctor at the University, he told me that I justneeded to change my dosage a bit. That afternoon, I got a shot inthe bottom, and a different dosage of hormones. By New Year’s Iwas back to my old self again.At my suggestion, after the holidays Emil attended severalsessions with me and my counselor, and then a few sessions byhimself. He soon learned that he was actually one of many peoplewho are primarily auto-erotic, and have little need for sexualrelations with others. But they also have a normal need foremotional interaction, which usually causes them great problems. For us, it meant that our relationship was nearly ideal.So it was at the Senior prom that Emil formally proposed to me,and I, like any other young woman in love, made a spectacularfool of myself as I cried and hugged him while screaming YES! YES! YES! to all that could hear. I think the prom was wonderful,but I was too happy to notice.His parents were startled when we told them my secret, but theyalready knew we were in love, and after some counseling were ableto accept that my being a genetic male really didn’t matter toEmil. When his father offered to pay for the surgery to make meinto a complete woman once we were married, Emil and I spent alot time with my counselor. After many discussions, we decidedthat being able to make love that way was really not thatimportant, so we opted for some cosmetic adjustments that gave mea much more feminine appearance without removing anything.Emil and I were married in a small, private ceremony in lateAugust. With my birth certificate showing me as a young woman,there were no embarrassing questions, and the ceremony wasbeautiful. Joyce was my maid of honor. I think she cried morethan I did. Mom outdid us all.Instead of a honeymoon, Emil and I packed to head off to college. He is majoring in business, and I’m taking general courses, witha slight emphasis on those needed for a teaching degree. Mostlywe intend to enjoy school, and each other’s company.

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