- This topic has 6 replies, 6 voices, and was last updated 3 years ago by
.
- Posts
I can hardly remember what I had for lunch, but that first conscious inkling that I liked something other than boys things came during an episode of the TV series The Aldrich Family which ran from 1949 to 1953 (google is my friend) . As near as I can recall I was about 5 or so…. so the episode that is etched forever in my mind’s eye was in 1950 or 1951 (yikes…. about 70 years ago).
Henry Aldrich was the teenage son in the family and he was always getting into zany predicaments. The signature line at the beginning of each show when Henry’s mother would shout for her son to come down to breakfast..”Hen-reeeeeeeeeeeee! Hen-ree Al-drich!”, and he responded with a breaking adolescent voice, “Com-ing, Mother!” The way I remember the episode in question is that somehow Henry wound up wearing a dress while running a race. That impressed me and I remember being mesmerised by this boy wearing a dress. I wished it was me. That night I had a dream that it was me wearing the dress and when I woke up I headed straight to one of my mother’s lingerie drawers….. it was in a room that I used to sleep in so I knew where it was. I was pre-school so I was tiny yet and the item I picked out was a girdle. I stepped into it and pulled it up and and of course it slid right down to the floor. At that moment my mother and grandmother (my grandparents lived on the second floor) passed by and saw me with the girdle. I wasn’t very good at hiding in those days… in fact I’m not sure if I even thought to be sneaky about it. They had a good laugh… my grandmother said through her snickering that my mother needed the girdle not me. I was mortified….. from then I knew that girl’s things were not for boys.
I was still not so careful that the first time I tried on my mom’s lipstick… I wiped it off on a towel in the bathroom …. when asked what the red on my lips was I blamed it on a cherry lollipop…. not too convincing. As time went on if my mother suspected that I had a fetish for girl’s things she never let on to me. It leads me to think that she had a part in sowing the seed of my femininity in some way very early on. Prior to me, she had two miscarriages (both girls) and she wanted a girl desperately so I’m told. Is Sigmund Freud in the house???
Throughout my formative years I continued to fantasize about being a girl. On my mom’s bureau was a picture of my 7 year old cousin Barbara in a school play wearing a beautiful dress and wearing makeup. I loved that picture and when the opportunity arose, I would put on a pair of my mom’s clip on earrings and gaze longingly at the picture imagining it was me in the picture and then staring at my image in the mirror wearing the earrings. I thought the earrings made me look so pretty.
A couple of my mother’s lady friends told me on more than one occasion how pretty I was and that I should have been born a girl. If only they knew how I felt. That only served to fuel my fantasies.
As I got older the feelings became stronger and when my parents were out I would always head for mom’s clothes…. I felt like a princess prancing about in her bras, panties and slips with lipstick and eye shadow on and when given the chance I was brave enough to polish my finger nails. Later on I got into her dresses…. and shoes… and hats. the only thing missing was a wig. My… I cut a fine figure… in my mind’s eye, anyway. I loved her blue polka dot dress… to this day I love polka dots. I could role play forever in that dress.
I feel like I’m just getting started here with my story….. but it’s getting late. if this isn’t too boring for everyone it will be continued….
Laura,
You are not boring, please continue. Most of us have early memories of these feelings! I love to read other people’s stories.
Kay
Thanks for sharing this. Are you a writer? You have a great way of putting us in the scene with you. I could imagine every moment you just described because of your style of writing. This was definitely not boring and I’d love to read more.
Welcome, Laura, to CDH. I liked your story as I like the story of many of the other gals here. Isn’t it kind of sad that for many of us it takes till we are 55 or 65 or older before we give up and recognize that we are so much happier when we have our ‘ dress up time’. CDH here with so many sharing our stories, feelings, hopes, and dreams is like a counciling session. I have been finding peace that I am not the only one going through these challenges.
XOX Sandy XOX
Not boring at all.It’s absolutely lovely dear.
- The forum ‘Personal Crossdressing Stories’ is closed to new topics and replies.
Recent Comments