Yes, my mother knew. Matter of fact, she started it. I did something wrong one day, maybe an accident in my little pants. But mom put me into a cute little blue dress with ruffles and bows, some thin folder down socks and a pair of my sister’s mary janes. I had to go outside dressed like that and play with my older sisters and their friends. I was 4. Throughout the years it became second nature and I loved dressing up. Mom would encourage, support, as she and I dressed together ever so often. Mom started having something like sex with me, something that never really bothered me until I was 62 and the memories resurfaced. Now I know it was abuse, and I wasn’t at fault.
It didn’t really upset me too much. I loved my mom dearly. Her sharing the contents of her dainty things – I could wear anything I wanted! I was also taught the finer ways of hand washing these fine, womanly things. This continued clear up into my high school years, with my dressing on my own when I had the house to myself. If it was just mom and I, I could dress up and wander around the house or help her with housework. I grew into quite an affection for nylons and silky things, wearing many a barbie doll to bed at night (with mom waking me up early in the morning before dad got up to help me take off my nightie.
Mom and I eventually got to a place where we could talk about those days when I was younger. It was mostly about my forgiving her (she had that kind of childhood herself, her dad wanting only boys…). But it’s amazing what can happen through forgiveness. I loved mom with everything I had clear up until she passed away about 10 years ago. I cherish many of the times we were together, and I still incorporate many outfits similar to what mom had taught me. Beverly