Why I Crossdress

M y earliest memory in life is that of trying on my mothers high heels. Most little boys try this a time or two and then go on to something else but for me it was a great big wobbling step towards who I am today. I remember that my father was absent from my life most of the time due to his hard work ethic and when he was there I was terrified of him. He was a drinker back then and was a survivor of a terribly abusive childhood himself. He was the quintessential tough guy and was extremely gruff when he spoke. He was an ex-Marine and the kind of man who just commanded respect. I was just a little kid but I remember that he always seemed to smell like motor oil, gasoline, alcohol or cigarettes. I tried to disappear when ever he was around and clung to my mothers side out of fear and a perceived need for protection from him.

 

My mother was an amazingly beautiful woman. She was thin and took very good care of herself. She loved fashion and kept on the cutting edge of the latest style. She was always well groomed and kept her nails done at all times. She always smelled like expensive perfume, bubble bath or flowery lotions. She was the epitome of femininity. She was the kind of woman who wouldn't even go to the grocery store unless she was dressed to the nines and had her make up and hair just right. She was a head turner and got a lot of attention and many compliments and comments about how beautiful and sexy she was from men and women alike. She was extremely playful and fun and was seldom without a warm smile or a hug for whoever happened by. My parents had recently lost my older brother to brain cancer and this meant that not only did I cling to my mother but she clung to me as well.

When I think back to those times before I was even five years old, I guess that my life pattern was already being set. I connected with my mother and not my father for obvious reasons. I wanted to do everything that she did. I wanted to be just like her.

We had a swimming pool and that made our place very popular during the summer months here in Texas. Friends and neighbors would come swim with us nonstop it seemed. One summer my mother bought a gold lame bikini to wear to the swim parties. It was the first time I had ever seen the gold metallic fabric or a bikini style swimsuit for that matter. I remember being amazed by how it looked on her and when she stepped out in her black high heeled pumps and that gold bikini to the pool for a swim for the first time all of the people in the back yard stopped whatever they were doing and looked her direction. Many began cat calls and wolf whistles. It was one of those moments in my four year old brain that just stuck and stuck hard. It seemed to me like she was some sort of a magical being that was so loved and appreciated by her followers that they had no choice but to fall under her spell.

One rainy day when I was stuck in the house with nothing to do I went to my moms sewing room to ask her a question. She answered without even turning around from her sewing machine. I spun around to leave and the glint of something shiny caught my eye laying on the floor. I moved the pile of dirty clothes that mom was getting ready to wash around and there it was, her gold lame bikini. I remember wanting to get a closer look at it so I took it to my room to investigate it's magical power. I couldn't figure out how such small pieces of fabric that looked like metal but wasn't had created such a stir at the pool party. I laid it on my bed and looked at it for a while. It was interesting to look at for sure but still I didn't understand what was so amazing about it. It was then that I tried on my first article of female clothing. I ******** down and pulled the bottoms up and I remember that I had indeed found at least a portion of the magic that I was looking for. The material felt like nothing that I had ever felt before. It was so much softer than my abrasive little tighty whities for sure. It was almost cold and slippery against my skin. It took me a while to figure out the top but when I was finally done I stepped in front of the full length mirror and WOW!. The image in reality was only that of a four year old boy playing dress up in his mothers things but to me it was way more than that. To me I was suddenly the head turning beautiful, sophisticated, sexy, magical woman that my mother had always been. I turned and looked at myself from all angles and the longer I stood there the better I felt. I was as far from the scary ex-Marine who smelled bad as I could possibly be and I was as close to my mother as I had ever been before. It was as if we shared something of great importance now. Something else happened that I didn't understand. the silky material that was so foreign to me had massaged and tickled me in places that I had never been tickled before if you know what I mean. It was a huge moment in my life and a turning point that has lead me down this road to try to create and re-create that same magical feminine image time and time again as life allows.

I kept the bikini under my bed and added the same black high heeled pumps that she made her debut in to the collection. I would escape to my room and slip into them as often as possible. It was a strange sensation, the material would tickle and arouse but the mental comfort of being who I truly wanted to be was calming at the same time. Those emotions contradicted each other but somehow complimented each other as well. I hid this from everyone and kept it my little secret. At four years old I didn't have a huge idea that it was considered deviant behavior or anything but I was smart enough to realize that grown ups most likely wouldn't understand. I had already had a few run ins with my father while wearing my mothers heels around the house. Once he picked up the phone and pretended to call the hospital to complain that they had given him the wrong child because I was most certainly a girl and they wanted a boy. He asked them to come and get me and take me back in exchange for a boy. I remember believing that someone was going to come and take me away from my family. I was devestated and was crying hysterically and such.

One evening my parents were having a dinner party and the whole living room was full of people and the kids where told to go play in my room. There were two older boys and me. We played games and kept ourselves entertained pretty good for the most part but as kids will do we became bored after a while. For some reason I thought it would be okay to let them in on my little secret. I knelt down beside the bed and got dressed in my bikini and heels and popped out to surprise them. I walked, posed and danced around a bit and they just watched in disbelief. It was then that my drunk father walked in to check on us. I have never to this day moved so fast. I was undressed and back in my boy clothes in record time but it was too late. I was busted big time. My father said "Oh no young lady if you want to wear that then you are gonna wear it all night long". He forcibly dressed me back into my outfit and then carried me into the living room for all to see. He said " Look what I found isn't she cute?" Everyone burst out in laughter and said things like " My what a pretty little girl you are" or "I love your shoes where did you get them sweetie?" I was made to wear my bikini and heels for the rest of the night as punishment and everyone there made such a big deal out of it. One of the men at the party even pinched my butt and winked at me. I know now that this was all meant to discourage and shame me into never doing it again but it had quite the opposite effect. I was the center of attention in my bikini and high heels much like the woman I admired so much and wanted to be just like. It solidified my need to be feminine beyond anything up to that point. I continued my search for femininity but I became extremely more clever in hiding it after that.

Later in life I had two older female cousins that loved to play dress up with me, they used me like there little breathing Barbie doll. I had no objections because secretly I was just getting another chance to express my feminine side. I never told them that secretly I loved our dress up games but I bet they figured as much when I was always eager to wear there pretty things and even made suggestions on what they could dress me in next.

Well that is how it started for me. I know it sounds like a made up fantasy that you would find in some soft core novelette but indeed every word is true.

I would like to say in closing that my father died a different person than he was back then. He quit drinking and found Christ. He was a good man all along who just didn't learn how to communicate correctly until later in life. I love him and miss him every day and I wouldn't be half of the person that I am today without his positive influence in my life.

My mother is gone now as well and I was fortunate enough to tell her about my feminine side in the last few years of her life and she was so great about it. We shared clothing, wigs, make up and had many a late night filled with girl talk about fashion and accessories and such. On one of the final visits to see her in the hospital she told me that she couldn't be more proud of the person that I had become. She told me that if I showed up to visit her in a dress and caused a commotion that she wouldn't be any less proud of me. I miss her tremendously as well and look forward to seeing her again someday.