Hi there everyone, Candi here. Firstly, I must apologize for the long space between this and my last post. Simply (well, actually, it's not simple, but..) a matter of life, in all it's glory, getting in the way. Work has been invading all sorts of off-limit corners of my life, plus family and friends, etc, etc. Anyway, I'm taking a week off from all the craziness, and I'm very happy to use some of that time to catch up.
And I have a particular thought in mind. A few weeks ago, terri posted a piece on Sissy Bras and Sunsuits which included reference to an early crossdressing experience she had. It triggered a strong memory of a similar experience for me, that happened when I was around 3 or 4 years old.
I usually think of my first connection to my girlie side as being an experience I had around 6 yrs old, when I was lying in bed one night. I had just started to become aware of sexual feeling (especially how good it felt to run and touch myself) and was starting to touch myself when this powerful thought hit me - 'what if I was a *girl* ???!?!?'. It was very powerful, and things have never been the same since. But in fact, terri's post reminded me that there was an even earlier incident, in some ways more profound, which I want to tell you about.
It happened during summer, in a house we lived in on a suburban cul-de-sac in North London (I grew up in England). I was around 3 or 4 yrs old, and was playing at a neighbors house, with their children, who were all girls, a little older than myself - probably 6 - 8 yrs old. It was hot, and we were playing outside in a paddling pool - lots of water around. I did not have a swimsuit, and of course with all the running around, splashing, throwing water at each other, I got soaked. The mother of the girls didn't want me to go home all wet, and since I didn't have a change of clothes, she took me inside to find me something else to wear. And what did she come up with, but a pair of frilly panties belonging to one of the girls I had been playing with. I seem to recall she briskly striped me down, and told me to put on these panties, saying something to the effect that I couldn't go home all wet, and these would do until I got home.
I don't remember much else that happened, perhaps my mother was a little upset at me wearing girls clothing, but I'm not really sure. What I do remember was the feelings that wearing girls clothing evoked in me. Embarrassment - wearing girls clothing in front of the girls I had been playing with. A little anger - being almost forced to wear girls clothing when I knew I was a boy. And shame - shame at the sexual excitement it made me feel.
But then, at that time, I didn't have names for all these feelings. It's only in retrospect that I can name them. Then, they were pure experience, pure feeling, and - I think - because of that, much more profound. I did not know what the feelings were, but I knew how I felt, that wearing frilly panties touched off something very deep in me, something that was erotic, special - and that had to be kept secret, because it was not 'normal'. Boys didn't wear girls clothing - especially when it felt so good. It was as if stepping into those panties woke something up in me that was dormant, but had always been there from the moment I was born. They touched something in my deepest core, but something that I could not name until a few years later, when I had the words. And that finally, I could not fully accept and explore in myself until much, much later, and which ultimately gets expressed in the here and now, as I type this for you and relate my story. It makes me realize that the girlie side of me is not a disguise or a costume (though I need one to express it !) but something that is a core, deep part of me. It's not the only thing, but it is part of who I truly am. And so, like some of you reading this, I see that it is vitally important to be it, own it, manifest it, as fully, safely and honestly as possible. Because that is who I - and you - are.