I have been told that people say the most outrageous things in the post-op recovery room. All I can remember was giggling uncontrollably, and cannot remember why. As I was wheeled back to my room, a dull ache started to settle into my nether regions, which became more pronounced as time went on. I flitted in and out of post-anaesthetic sleep, and remembered seeing Dad and Mom at different intervals.

I came round properly in the early evening, and promptly threw up into a bowl thoughtfully left by the nurse.

Mom was sitting there, looking tired and worried.

"Hi Sweetie, how do you feel?"

I finished spitting out the bile, and just looked at her. She smiled.

"Any pain?"

"Not really, jut very achy. I guess they have me on pain relief."

"That's good."

"What is, being on pain relief or being achy?"

"Not being in pain."

"Oh. Did the doctor say how it went?"

"Not really, he just said you were a very interesting case."

"That's helpful. Am I allowed a drink, I have an awful taste in my mouth?"

"I'll call the nurse," she said, but at that moment Dr Brunner and Dr Vroeker came into the room.

"Ah, sleeping beauty is awake," he said.

I smiled weakly.

"There will be some discomfort, as you see you have two drips. One is fluid, to prevent you dehydrating, and the other is for the pain. Are you in much pain?"

"Not really, just uncomfortable, not sharp pain."

"Good, that will be the packing."

"Packing?" I asked, feeling like a stuffed turkey for thanksgiving.

He sat on the bed.

"Sherri, you were one very confused girl. Inside, I mean. We opened you up, and there were some surprises for us. It seems that it would go some way to explain why you felt so strongly you were a girl. You see, you have two perfectly formed ovaries, with fallopian tubes, a cervix, womb and a lot more. You have an immature vagina, which needed a little work, as did the external lips, clitoris, and the labia major and minor."

I was staring at him, and he smiled.

"Sherri, you thought you were a girl because you are a girl. Those parts that made you look male were useless, and have gone. You needed only a little cosmetic work, and now you should have a long and healthy life."

"So, you did SRS?"

"No. SRS is what we do for people who want to change gender. You already were a girl, we just finished the job."

I was still woozy from the anaesthetic, so it didn't sink in right away. I was frowning, trying to work out what he had said.

The other doctor, Helen, said something in German, and Dr Brunner replied.

"Vot he means ist, you hav alvays bin a girl. But nobody knew," she said.

"I'm a real girl?" I asked, still unbelieving.

"Ja, Sie sind eines hundert prozentiges Mädchen," she said.

"Mädchen?" I asked, she pronounced it mey-tchen, I worked out the 100% bit.

"It means girl, in German," Dr Brunner said.

I think my smile said it all, and I cried at the same time. I hugged everyone and anyone who came close enough, and Daddy walked in on the whole silliness.

He stood at the door, and frowning looked at Mom.

"Hey Honey, what did I miss?"

Mom went and took his hand, and pulled him over to where I could give him a hug.

"Sergeant Brewster, meet your daughter, Sherri Brewster, who is now a perfectly normal girl."

Dad frowned even more, and I giggled even more.

Dr Brunner took him to one side, and Dad kept glancing at me as the doctor explained everything for him.

"You mean, she's been a girl underneath all along?"

"Ja, her male parts were not functioning, and so her female parts are all fine. This little girl of yours, could one day become a mother herself."

That stopped me giggling.

Dad looked at the doctor, and it was the first time I ever saw him cry real big tears.

"She is fertile?" he asked, his voice echoing the incredulity that I felt too.

"I see no reason why not. She is maturing at the rate I would expect for a girl of her age, perhaps a little late, but that is to be expected. I think she will have her first period in the next couple of months."

"Period?" I yelped. This was not in the plan.

The doctor looked at me.

"Ja, you thought you were a transsexual, didn't you?"

I nodded.

"Well, you aren't. You are what is commonly known as a genetic female, and a fertile one at that. You were inter-sexed, as the last doctor deduced, but more than he surmised. You are the same as your mother, and Helen here. Your disorder has been removed, and you should have no different a life than any other twelve year old girl. I cannot change your past, but I can ensure your future is what it should be."

"You mean I could have a baby?" I asked, and my parents stared at him.

"Ja, why not? As I said, you are perfectly normal. I have taken out the implant, as you are producing more than enough of your own hormones now."

The doctors answered some more questions, and told me to rest. They would take the dressings off on the following day, and then I should be able to start recuperation.

Dad sat next to me, he held my hand, and seemed to be so much more relaxed. I realised how tough it was on him having a kid who was so different, and I knew that he was afraid of the news getting round.

"Daddy, I'm so sorry to have been such a nuisance."

He looked at me and cried again, holding me tightly to his chest.

"Honey, don't you ever apologise to me again. I am so sorry that you had to live through all this without anyone knowing the truth. If I could give you your childhood back, I would. And I am so sorry for all the cross words I said to you over the years."

We just hugged for ages, and I saw Mom watching us with tears streaming down her face.

"I think I knew it all along, but never really believed it could have been true," she said.

I was tired and in some discomfort, so my parents left, promising to be in early the next day and brining some chocolate chip ice cream.

I fell asleep almost immediately, and was unconscious until the nurse woke me up the next morning at seven.

I was quite hungry, and first the nurse checked my dressings.

"It com off, ja?" she said.

I just nodded, and watched as she started to undo the bandages. She carefully removed the urinary catheter, and the gauze which covered my bits. It was all painted in a yellow colour, I guessed to prevent infection.

It looked weird. I was a girl.

I suppressed a giggle as it bubbled up.

The doctor came in.

"Morgen, Sherri. How are you today?"

"I'm a girl!" I said, stating the obvious.

"Ja, shall we have a look?"

He removed some wadding, it slid out and caused some stinging. As soon as it was out, the discomfort subsided, and I felt pretty good.

"It all looks clean and tidy. No scar tissue to speak of. These stitches will all self dissolve and in about six weeks, you would not know that I have ever been any where near you."

He delicately probed around the area, asking whether I felt pain or discomfort, and in a couple of places, whether I could feel anything at all. He touched something which was like electricity, and I jumped.

"Pain?"

"Not exactly. More like a shock."

He smiled, and very gently touched the same spot again.

I was ready this time, and still jumped. Whatever he touched was very sensitive and made me squirm. It wasn't unpleasant, but unusual.

"Very good. That was your clitoris. I made it from the old head of your penis. I was uncertain whether the nerve endings would be damaged, and I am pleased to see they weren't. You know what a clitoris is?"

I blushed and nodded.

"When you believe that you are a transsexual, you tend to read everything you can," I said.

He smiled.

"Okay. Soon you try to pass urine, and later when you have eaten we make sure the back passage works too. Then tomorrow, you start with the dilators to stretch the vagina, and to make sure it heals properly. Now, you do not need to use the normal ones, as you had a vagina already, but you need to just gently stretch the new bit at the opening."

He showed me what was expected, and put the box by my bed. The nurse removed the intravenous feeds to my arm, and pulled out the enormous needles.

"Can I eat now?"

"You can eat, drink, and walk about. You can dress, but wear a skirt or a dress, and put on the baggy special disposable pants with pads. I want you up and about as fast as you can manage. But take it easy for the first few days. If and when you use toilet for urine, then you must wipe with one of the medicated wipes. There is a real danger of infection at this early stage, so keep as clean as you can, and keep changing the panties."

"If you feel any pain or discomfort, then rest and ask the nurse for a pain killer. Okay?"

I nodded, with a huge smile plastered on my face.

"Can I wash my hair?"

"Of course. Tomorrow you could have a warm bath, but not yet."

The nurse took my order for some breakfast, and I tottered to the bathroom. I filled the basin with warm water, and washed my hair. I kept looking down at my new femaleness, and could not stop grinning.

I delicately pulled on the baggy pants, which were about as sexy as gumboots. I put on my bra, a pink top and my favourite denim skirt.

I dried my hair, and vowed to ask Mom for a hairdryer. I was putting a little makeup on when breakfast arrived. I sat on the edge of the bed, and was eating when the door opened and several bunches of flowers walked in attached to legs underneath.

It was Mom, Dad, Melanie, Carrie and to my delight and surprise, Peejay.

They were all amazed to see me up and dressed.

I hugged everyone, particularly Peejay. The nurse took the flowers out to find some vases. Mom went with her, feeling guilty she was creating work for the woman.

I listened to their chat as I finished my breakfast, and then Peejay turned to me and asked the million dollar question.

"So, what was wrong?"

"I had a minor plumbing problem down below, sort of women's problems, an obstruction," I said, being as vague as I could.

"Are you okay now?" he asked, looking so worried and caring that I almost burst into tears.

"She is fine now," said Dad, "In fact, she is so fine, that she and her Mom are going to have to have a facts of life talk very soon."

Melanie grinned and Peejay went beetroot red.

"Daddy, that is so rude," I said, and he just laughed.

"I had something growing where it shouldn't, and it has been removed. I am now fit and fertile, and that is what my dear Daddy was hinting at."

Melanie's face was a picture, and I realised that they hadn't even told her. I guess Carrie and Peejay prevented full conversation on the way.

"How long are you in here, you look really fine?" Carrie asked.

"I'm not sure. I have some exercises and while there is a fear of infection, I will be here."

Mom and the nurse arrived with the flowers in vases, and they were put in sensible places. They looked wonderful.

"The roses are from me," Peejay said, so I gave him a special hug.

Daddy raised his eyebrows behind Peejay's back, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

They stayed for ages, and I almost forgot why I was here, but I moved suddenly and received a painful twinge for my trouble, and must have grimaced.

"Are you okay?" Peejay asked, full of concern.

"Yeah, I forgot I was still tender."

Dad pulled out Mom and the girls.

"Peejay, have a few minutes with her, and then we'd best give her some peace to do her exercises or whatever."

"Sure Mr Brewster, thanks."

The door shut and we were alone. I was suddenly shy, and he took my hand.

"I was really worried when your sister phoned to say you were in hospital."

"Melanie phoned you?"

"Yeah, and I'm pleased she did. You never said you were coming in."

"I didn't know. I had an appointment for the specialist and the next I know, I am being operated on."

"That's awful. Were you frightened?"

"A little, but it had to be done."

"You look good now."

"Oh, and I suppose I looked bad before?"

He smiled.

"Now I know it's you. No you were pretty before, and you are just as beautiful now."

I looked at him.

"Kiss me?" I asked.

He leaned over, and kissed me, and I had a flight of a thousand butterflies fluttering in my tummy, and a warm glow spread across my groin.

"I missed you," he said, as he broke away.

"I only saw you, like, three days ago," I said.

"I would like to see you all the time."

"That is very sweet, but we aren't old enough to get married."

He blushed, and smiled, with his eyes scrunching up again.

"If we were old enough, would you marry me?"

"Ask me when we are old enough," I said, and he laughed.

"Have you ever been in love, Sherri?"

"I don't know, have you?"

"I just think I might be right now."

I looked at him, and smiled.

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will too."

He did, and I think it worked.

I was home four days later, and somehow everything had changed. It was really weird, but now I was who I wanted to be, it was almost as if what drove me had gone. I flopped about and seemed to have lost enthusiasm for anything. I was happy just bumming around doing nothing. Peejay seemed to be fed up with me, and I didn't feel I cared.

Dad came into my room and I was lying on my bed listening to some music. He turned it off.

"Sherri, your rest is over, it is time to rejoin the human race."

"What do you mean?"

He sat on the bed.

"The doctor said you would experience mood swings and unfamiliar feelings of lethargy and listlessness. He also said that these had to be worked through and not given into."

I must have made a bad tempered grunt, for before I knew it I was over his knee, and he walloped me so hard that tears sprung to my eyes.

He had never hit me before, ever.

I sprung to my feet and stared at him, shocked and surprised, rubbing my smarting butt.

"That's my girl."

"Huh?"

"You still want to be a cop?" he asked.

I nodded.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes, I still want to be a cop."

"How bad?"

"Huh?"

"How bad do you want to be a cop?"

"I don't understand," I said.

"Would it be quite nice to be a cop, or pretty cool to be a cop, or perhaps a real good thing to be a cop? Or do you want to be a cop with everything that is in you, just like you wanted to be a girl?"

I thought about it.

"The last."

"I don't see it. You went through hell with a smile on your face to become a girl. You had courage, guts, determination and dignity. But now you got it, you are a flake."

I felt ashamed. Now he told it how it was I had to agree. I hung my head, and felt the tears of shame fill my eyes.

He embraced me.

"Hey, don't cry. What you are feeling is the same as guys who achieve any difficult goal. It is called the anti-climax. The big let-down, when it all seems for nothing. So, all you do, is simply reset your goals, and go for it. Everyone needs a goal, and when you achieve it, go for the next one. When there are none left, then you are allowed to die."

I smiled.

"That's better. Now, what is your goal?"

"To be a cop."

"Sherri, you are twelve years old. Get real, goals have to be realistic and achievable in the short term, otherwise you will get lost and tired on the way. So look closer to home. What would be your next goal?"

"High school?"

He shook his head.

"Closer and less vague."

"Being the best daughter I could be?"

He smiled.

"On the nose. You have had such a tough time, don't waste it now. Try and be the best person you can be for everyone's sake, particularly your own. Work through difficulties, even good times present their own difficulties, like having everything you ever wanted."

I felt bad.

"Sherri, we love you, but that doesn't mean we have to always like you. So stop being a selfish little cow, and call Peejay and apologise to him before he dumps you."

I hugged him and he just smiled and left me for awhile.

I went down stairs and apologised to my family and then called Peejay.

We met by the gate. He was looking reserved, and with good reason. I had hardly spoken to him for a week.

"I'll buy you a soda?" I offered.

"Okay," he said, less than enthusiastic.

We cycled to Mannerheim, and went to the café. We ordered the sodas, and I pushed a small box across the table. It was wrapped in pretty gold paper, and I had done bows and everything.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It is my way of saying sorry for being, as my Dad put it, a selfish little cow."

He opened it. It was a new Sony Walkman. I remembered him telling me that he had dropped his other one, and it had broken.

He looked up.

"You didn't have to."

I nodded.

"I did. I was a complete bitch. I had what I wanted, and no one else seemed important, and I was wrong, and deserve to be dumped. Do you want to dump me?"

He smiled and my heart melted.

"No one could ever want to dump you. The only way someone will ever stop loving you is to die," he said, and I surprised the waiter by bursting into tears and flinging my arms around Peejay's neck.

We sat as close as two people could ever get to coexisting on the same spot in the time/space continuum. We held hands, and I rediscovered how to love life again. I found by pleasing others and bringing love into as much of my life as I could, I could find real joy. Well, as much as any teenager could, at least.

The summer break came to an end.

Dad didn't have to see the principal, and managed to have my birth certificate altered officially, as I was now a certified normal female. Will, Melanie, Carrie and I caught the bus to High school together on the first day. I was dressed in my denim skirt, with waistcoat and new shoes, with flat heels and bobbi socks.

We all assembled in the big hall and names were read out, and we went to our new classes. The unique thing about military base schools was that there were new kids in each grade. As we met our form teacher, and were allocated desks, I found myself sitting next to someone very familiar.

"Hi Sherri."

"Hi Peejay. Fancy meeting you here."

He grinned, and more faces appeared. There was Mikey, who still annoyed me, and the others from that day by the fountain. It was nice knowing some faces, as many of the new kids had not met any of the others before. There were even some British kids whose parents couldn't send their kids to the nearest British Forces School, which was 90 miles away.

The first day was for familiarisation and getting organised. We were given our books and introduced to our teachers. I found it so cool to walk into the girls' bathrooms and with nothing to hide.

I noticed that if anything I was one of the more outgoing and physically mature girls in our year group. Carrie was on a similar level, and we were probably the tallest girls too.

At the morning break, Peejay immediately sought me out, and we went and found a quiet corner together. Carrie came too, and much to my annoyance so did Mikey.

I think Mikey realised that he came on like a buffoon that first day, and he toned things down, particularly as he saw that Peejay and I were very much an item. He latched on to Carrie, who didn't appear to share my feelings for him.

By the time we left on the bus in the afternoon, I was feeling more confident about the future than at any time in my life. Peejay even caught the same bus, even though he lived a fair way from our drop off point. I had never seen his house, as it was off base, and Dad was unwilling for me to venture out on my own.

On the Friday, Peejay asked me to go to his house for Sunday Lunch. I agreed, and then thought I should have asked Dad first.

Dad was cross I hadn't, but only because he was working, and Mom was not in a position to drive me over there. I told Peejay, and he offered to come on his bike so we could both cycle to his house. Dad agreed, and so at eleven o'clock on Sunday, I was waiting by the porch for Peejay.

I was in a pretty new dress, and Mom had insisted I wear a ribbon in my hair. It wasn't a frilly little girl's dress , but a sophisticated golden yellow dress, which matched my hair and made me look a few years older.

Instead of Peejay on his bike, a Cherokee Jeep arrived, and Peejay jumped out. A man who could only have been his dad was driving. I was ushered into the front seat, and Peejay jumped in the back.

"Dad, this is my girl, Sherri Brewster. Sherri, this is my Dad."

"How are you sir? This is real nice of you to come fetch me, but you didn't have to."

The Major's eyebrows shot up, and I knew I had scored a brownie point.

"It was a pleasure, Sherri. Please don't call me sir. I may be in the military, but the military isn't in me. My name's David."

I laughed, and caught Peejay grinning. This was obviously a favourite expression.

He asked about my family, and the short car journey was over quickly.

Their house was off base, and set in a quiet residential village. The village had one street, and their house was set back from the road. It was made in dark red brick and was quite a lot newer than the other houses closer to the centre of the village.

There was room for four cars on the driveway, and it had a double garage under the main living room of the house. Steps went up to the right to the front door, and the living room was off to the left of the big entrance hall. It was huge, with a joined dining area with a long table laid with all the trimmings of a big meal. There was a double door that led out onto a block patio, and then lawn beyond.

The kitchen was to the right of the dining area, and had a breakfast bar in one corner by some patio more doors. A door led to the utility room, and then stairs down to the basement. There was a den and a spare bedroom with bathroom down there, and four bedrooms up stairs.

It was a nice house, and much more spacious than our allotted quarters.

Mrs Connors came and greeted me. She was a pretty lady, who seemed out of place in the military. I imagined her in the suburbs of some big city, hosting parties of lawyers and their wives for weekends. She asked me to call her Rowena, and it felt really odd.

Peejay had a younger sister called Lucy, and she was nine. She was another quiet and shy person, rather like her brother. As I came to know them, I realised that it wasn't shyness, it was just they were cautious and reserved.

I know I talked too much, I always do. I tried real hard to be intelligent and not to sound off like a silly fluff-head.

The food was wonderful, she was a really good cook, and I loved everything she put on the table. We had a roast beef, and four vegetables. She made real Yorkshire puddings to go with the meat, and I just adored them. So much so, after the meal she showed me how she made them so I could make them too. They were so easy, and yet I knew of so many people who use a packet mix.

After the meal, I helped clear away, and helped wash the pots and pans. Even Peejay helped and I caught a strange smile being exchanged between his parents.

"Peejay never helps with the pans," announced Lucy.

"So what magic did you do to get him to help?" asked Rowena.

I shrugged.

"Just a old family recipe of herbs and some bat dung, and then after six hours in the cauldron, I drain it through a pair of his dirty socks and mutter a spell," I said, nonchalantly.

"It's getting him to eat it that is the real test," I added, and they all were kind enough to laugh.

After lunch we went to the den and watched a video. We sat on the sofa, and held hands. I felt happy. I had a full tummy and was with a boy I really liked.

The semester ground on, and the weather got colder. Somehow my lessons seemed easier now, perhaps without the burden of gender confusion, it just was clearer for me. I didn't care, I kept my eye on the next goal, and worked hard.

I found it easier to make friends, and played sports with the other girls. I thought I spotted a couple of the kids with gender difficulties, and as they weren't in my year, I just left them alone. After a few weeks they left, and I forgot about them. I felt a little guilty, so I made a pact with myself to always befriend people who seemed friendless. If they shunned my friendship, that was their loss.

I was introduced to netball, which was a European girls' equivalent to basketball, but you had to stop whenever you got the ball. It made passing more important, and I enjoyed it.

In fact, I enjoyed everything about my life, and then one morning in October, I woke up and screamed.

I was covered in blood, and thought I was dying.

Melanie and Mom rushed in, and Dad and Will knew exactly what had happened and stayed away.

Okay, now I know what it was, but I was scared and not prepared, okay?

I know, they had told me I would get a period. What a dumb word for such a horrible thing. Period. Do the English call it a full stop?

I honestly thought I had come to a full stop. Now I was definitely a fertile young woman, Mom took me aside for a Mom/daughter talk. (after I had gotten cleaned up.)

She told me about contraception and responsibilities. All I knew was I was bleeding to death and she was lecturing me against the one sure way to prevent periods. I knew she was right, as the last thing I wanted was to become a Mom before I got to be a cop.

Life went on, and I marked the calendar so I had some idea when the damn curse would strike me again.