My journey probably started like so many others. I was nine years old and it was the 1970s. I was never into the boy things, such as motorbikes and sports, and always wanted to hang around with the girls or just sit by myself and admire how they dressed. It was a fascination with their outfits and especially their pantyhose. The feelings and sensations were just overwhelming when I got to touch legs in pantyhose for the first time. I actually wanted to be the one wearing the pantyhose and feeling feminine. My mom had a lot of friends who were always over at our house for coffee and they adored me. I loved to sit on their lap with that feeling of their pantyhose on my bare legs. I would admire their makeup and jewelry and how their perfume smelled.
Mom had this white dress with grey polka dots. It was short and tight from the waist up and had a three layer ruffle from the waist down and was made with a kind of nylon material. She would wear it with a pair of white heels, grey mist pantyhose, and a white cardigan. To this day it remains my most favourite outfit. One day, I was at home and mom went over the road to visit a neighbor and I could not wait anymore. I had to try it on. I was quickly trying to get the pantyhose on without tearing it and then the dress whilst admiring myself in the mirror. OMG, I was in heaven. At the same time, I was so scared as I looked out the window to watch if mom was coming home. I completely lost track of time and when I looked out the window there was my mom on our front lawn. I had seven seconds to get out of the dress and pantyhose and have them back in place in the dresser and wardrobe. When mom opened the front door, there I was running from her room into my room wearing just my underpants. I came so so close to being caught that first time and can laugh about it now but looking back it was the scariest time ever. Mom was probably wondering why I was in her room and why her pantyhose was stretched like it had been worn and her wardrobe door was open with the white dress not where it was last time. She questioned me but it never went any further and I’m sure she knew but never talked about it. I was way too scared to ever attempt it again yet I couldn’t stop. At the same time, the feelings just grew stronger.
It was at that stage when I knew I was different. I honestly thought there was something wrong with me. I never knew other boys did the same. I thought it was just me. Back then, there was no Internet so I was alone in my thoughts and the guilt took over. I tried playing sports and do normal boy things. I pushed away the feelings of wanting to dress up and left it to just admiring girls and women.
When I was in my early 20s and lived away from home, the feeling hit me again. Even though I lived with others I had some privacy and I could keep some clothes hidden in my room. Still not having access to the Internet, I went shopping and that created another fear; how to buy women’s clothes. As I had little money, my very first time buying clothes was at a thrift store. There I could buy five skirts for $20 to $30 and have complete outfits. The story I came up with was that I was buying for my girlfriend but didn’t have much money. The lady was so helpful and after my very first purchase, I used the same story at different thrift stores. Before long I was hooked on buying outfits only to find I was not that good at sizing and often bought things that were way too small or way too big. I kept those clothes hidden in my room and would take time off of work to be alone through the day just so I could dress.
Then I fell in love with a girl so everything went into the bin and Mandy got put aside. Over the years after every relationship ended along came a whole new wardrobe. Then I’d fall in love again, purge it all and when that ended, I’d be off shopping again. Each time I bought a new wardrobe I got better at sizing. Then along came the Internet and wow a whole new world opened up only to find love and purge again.
My last relationship was eight years ago and at any other time in a relationship, I forgot about Mandy. In my last relationship, however, Mandy was always in the back of my mind and was stronger than ever. I even tried on my partner’s things when I was alone and was missing being able to be Mandy even more. Although I was sad when I ended the relationship, Mandy was there to keep me sane. Mandy was this kind beautiful soul that wanted acceptance. She wanted to be explored deeper, to be admired and I knew after that last relationship it was time I truly explored Mandy to the fullest. Leaving that relationship meant starting over with nothing, moving away, getting a new job, creating a new lifestyle and having to work really hard to get to where I needed to be. I needed a house to myself to dress fully. I needed money to buy a whole new wardrobe. I needed to come out of the closet even just a little bit (having my makeup done professionally and being able to post photos of Mandy to say here I am). It all came down to money and when I finally had enough money for a wardrobe I was happy with, I had my first proper photo’s taken to post on social media. I still was sharing a house with a friend but Mandy was now back in full force and I vowed to never ever get rid of my wardrobe again. I finally have my own place. I’m now at the start of a wonderful time in my life. The moral of this story is don’t ever give up on your dreams.