Wait. What? You bought a BRA?!

“Yes Dear”, I said when she asked about those first panties. The ones she found in the laundry. The ones she thought were our daughter’s. “Those are mine.” But, “Are you gay? Are you transgender?” she wondered.  “No, no.  It’s just underwear. I like the fabrics and colors. They feel good” I explained. It felt good to have that little talk. And I thought, “Alrighty then. Panties are okay.”

Then it was camisoles, and pantyhose. Just underdressing. Nothing anyone would see, if I was careful. But I had promised to be open and honest. So I knew I had to show her. Lacy top and sexy smooth legs.  So now she sees, this is more than just panties. ”What’s going on here?”, she wonders. But, after some thought, she said, “Those things are okay too, I guess”. Relief. “It’s just clothes you know. Clothes don’t have gender” I explained. And I thought, “Alrighty then. Underdressing is okay.”

Shopping for new underthings was always a huge thrill.  And I realized very quickly I could get away with it with virtually no one commenting or batting an eye. Plus I had some support at home. The secret was still safe. So, why not look at some other things since  I’m at the store? What would a skirt feel like? How about a pretty blouse? Why not? Great things could be found really cheaply on the close-out racks or at the discount stores. “I hope she understands”, I thought.

Pretty soon it was, “Honey. Would you mind if I showed you something?” Debut the skirt. And the sparkly lame’ blouse. With the heels. And the pantyhose and cami. “What do you think?” I ask.  “You’re not gay are you? Are you transgender?” She wonders once again. “No, no.  It’s just clothes. Kind of a hobby.”  I even borrowed that old line: some men like to play golf. I play girl. Ha ha. That’s a knee slapper. And I thought, “ Alrighty then. Dressing like a woman seems to be okay.” At least indoors in private.

Then a chance to go just a little farther. Out of town, far from home. Just the two of us. “Honey. I’d like to step out with my ‘girl things’”, I tell her. “Really?”, she asks. That’s a big ask. Yes, I think I want to do this. So there we were. Her in her knee-high boots and pretty sweater. Him in his long skirt and nice top with pretty shoes and a cute purse.  A selfie was captured of the two of them to mark the day and to treasure. And I thought, “Alrighty then, public presentation seems to be okay, within limits perhaps”.

Through it all, I’d not really worried about my ‘man head’ or my male presentation when I dressed pretty. I’d not been using hair, makeup, or forms. Just a man in a dress. So why then, on my latest trip to the store, did I find myself looking at those bras on the clearance rack? Was it because they had a 40A for less than 10 dollars? Yes it would be a little snug but I knew with an extension it would fit okay. No, I said.  I don’t need a bra. Or do I?

At home now.  That bra looks pretty good on me.  Makes all my other clothes look better too. But the bra is now at the bottom of the drawer. Covered up with socks and a zillion pair of panties. Will this be the limit for her?  The bridge too far? “I’m not gay. I’m not trans”, I think I’ll tell her. And then I’ll remember, I promised to be honest and open. So, I’ll tell her, “I love you Dear. Always have, always will.” And I’ll think, “Alrighty then. She loves me too.” After 35 years, we’re still not finished and loving this adventure.

Stay well Ladies,

Clara