No matter how many times I tried to talk to my parents, no matter how earnestly, they refused point blank to listen. And they made damn sure that I didn't do anything the slightest bit feminine. Everything about me, my hair, my clothes, etc, was made aggressively masculine.
I think a lot of their vehement opposition was driven by their fear of 'what the family would think' - this was virtually my father's controlling principle in life.
My elder brother, Jock (two years older than me) would often ridicule me for wanting to be a girl; I suspect with the tacit consent of our parents - or at least that of my father.
Dad pushed me into all sorts of 'manly sports', especially contact sports. I was useless and too lightly built. I was constantly getting hurt and twice ended up in hospital.
Eventually, my mother convinced Dad to heed the advice from doctors and coaches and I was released from that awful part of my life.
Activities such as music, drama, dance and art were viewed as 'soft' and not encouraged. Swimming was acceptable and easy for me because we had our own pool. Pressured to participate in competitions, I disappointed as usual.
I had one solace in these dark times. I stole a pair of girls panties from a department store. Because I could crunch them up small, I could hide them in the base of my desk lamp. My parents never found them, or the ones that followed them. I just took great care when I wore them (they felt terrific).
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Saved by a Dress
Short StoryA boy's victory over adversary. It's a transgender story and starts rather grimly with despair, a lack of hope and the emergence of suicidal intentions. The boy works through disengagement and financial constraints to eventually achieve his dream, a...
