The story of THEA and ARIEL
on the road to happiness…
My name was Anthony Carlson Jr. At age 10, my dad Tony announced that my biological mother ran away in disgust over his gender confusion – down deep, she must have known that like Dad, I was prettiest girlish for a young lad. So I was not surprised when my dad transitioned to become my new mother, Thea. And I was so happy not only that my parent was now truly living a pretty blonde lady, but that as my Mom she was the sweetest and most attentive to my needs as I grew up.
I watched in amazement as hormones and cosmetics transformed the skinny, pale man who was my dad into a bombshell! I noticed how many looks from men she got when we were out and about. Maybe I was a little jealous? For sure, she sure looked and felt happy – and I wanted to be that happy – at that moment I knew that I wanted to follow in her (high heeled) footsteps. She absolutely supported me as I dressed for the first time in girls’ clothes and a blonde wig and makeup.
“My daughter is so gorgeous – and while I have always loved you as my son – I think being a mom with such a cute daughter will be so much fun!” We hugged and cried and we sat down to plan my transition to being female. Now I was Thea’s beautiful daughter Ariel…
By my 17th birthday, I no longer needed a wig, or a stuffed bra. I was quickly growing now own full breasts, and had a round, tight rear end – just like Mom! She had become hormone treatment two full years before I did, but she had to undo everything male puberty had given her as a guy. But almost nobody would know that we were not genetically female – you’d have to look at what was left in our silken panties.
But there was a bigger problem. There had been money in the bank before Mom began transitioning, and when I made my wishes known to also become a girl, it sped up the draining of her reserves. We were running out of money, and still had to pay the monthly rent and eat (at least we watched our figures, which saved us on the groceries). Mom took a second job as a waitress in a diner (she looked so cute in her uniform). I wanted to work there as well, but she insisted that I commit myself to two things: working on my girlishness and studying hard in high school. I really needed to get a scholarship for any hope at college.
We got by, but Mom still couldn’t afford to schedule the final surgery – for either of us. We still had our male organs – no social life and we couldn’t even afford a lot of new clothes. Mom came home every night exhausted; it made so sad to see her this way. I cried myself to sleep at night…