Dad Returns to a Daughter

It was a few weeks before my dad returned from a business trip to Toronto during which time I was beginning to feel more and more comfortable with my feminine persona. I would go to school dressed as a boy but during the evenings and weekends my mom allowed me to dress how I wished and there was no discussion about my attire other than when I would attend the ballet classes which mom had signed me up for. Thankfully, they were not near our home so there was no chance of me seeing any girls from my school.

I would always wear white satin panties because my mom said boy briefs would show through the leotard along with white tights and a black tank top style leotard. The first class was very embarrassing, a few of the girls giggled when they saw me dressed like them but to my amazement there was also another boy about my age in the class wearing exactly the same leotard.

It being the 1970’s I had long blond hair and the instructor immediately told me that I would either need to cut my hair or tie it back, I chose the latter.

More on ballet and square dance classes in another posting.

My mom did not tell me the exact day my dad would arrive home because I was already anxious about it, he came home late on a Friday evening after I had gone to sleep the next morning when I walked into the kitchen wearing my favorite short nightie over my night diapers I let out a scream when I saw him sitting at the kitchen table with my mother.

 

They told me to come sit with them as my mom did all the talking explaining the situation to my dad. He was not happy to say the least which my mom expected so she had arranged for the counsellor/therapist I was seeing to come to our home later that morning. She was better at explaining my situation to my dad and from what I recall his biggest concern was having a gay son. I didn’t even know what gay was at that age and hadn’t even had the sex talk with my dad parents yet.

During the two week period my dad was home we saw the therapist a few times a week and while my dad was still very disappointed with my desire to dress like a girl he was not ranting and threatening not to allow me to dress in his home. Like most European men he was quite a macho man and far from open minded or progressive thinking. We were far from close before this and now he was even more distant. Many nights I lay in bed worrying because I could hear my parents in the living room discussing me and how this was going to affect their lives. Some evenings it was discussions and other times it was more like arguing and yelling. My mom was the voice of reason and reassured my dad that everything would be fine. It struck me one night when I heard her tell my dad that she enjoyed being able to buy girl’s clothing and if I wanted to dress like a girl that was fine with her.

Out of frustration my dad commented,

“What is with the diapers? He’s not a bloody baby is he?”

Mom calmly told him what the therapist said,

“It’s his way of receiving the love and affection which he did not receive from us because we were too distraught over losing Naomi. The guilt I feel is horrible and if this helps him feel loved and makes up for us being distant while he was a toddler then so be it. Besides he needs them because he wets the bed and I’d rather wash diapers than bedding every morning.”

I distinctly remember starting to cry when I heard my mom defending me and truly loving me. It was not tears of sadness but rather tears of relief and happiness. Yes it was true I still wet many nights but it was really just mild leakage at night. The next morning I woke up completely dry but there was no way I was going to let my mom know before getting up I voluntarily soaked my diapers like never before. From that day forward I began to consciously soak my diapers every night. I would drink lots before bed and if I woke up dry I would purposely wet my diapers before.

 

My dad started travelling more shortly after this weekend and looking back I believe it had more to do with avoiding the situation at home than actually needing to work. My mom was perfectly content with the situation and I began to develop a closer and closer relationship with her.

This closeness grew and grew through my teens which I will share in future postings.

That fateful day when I choose to dress like a girl

My first blog post dealt briefly with my younger years now I share the day my mom asks me if I really want to dress like a girl.

This was a time in my life when rather than my mother merely guiding me towards diapers and feminine attire I was now keenly interested in all things feminine and babyish. On top of feeling safe and secure while dressed up I also began to feel the stirrings of sexual desire.

As my father became more successful he travelled more and I remember that while when I was younger he would usually come home on Friday nights and leave again on Monday mornings now he was gone for weeks on end and when he did come home on weekends my parents were busy entertaining guests or spending time at the country club.

His constant absence didn’t seem to bother my mother who continued her active social life even when he was away and many of her days were spent at the company’s main office here in Vancouver.

While I loved my dad he was a typical European dad who was distant and did not show much affection towards me. By the time I was 10 or 11 most of my life was with him being absent so I really did not have a strong need for a father figure in my life. While at this age I still did gravitate towards girlish toys I was beginning to participate in sports like soccer, swimming and baseball to be honest I was not very good at the sports especially soccer which required some physical attributes. I remember being teased and being called a sissy by some of the boys because I often would end up crying during a game if I was knocked over or hit hard by the ball or another player.

After one particular bad teasing from some boys on the team I nervously suggested to my mom that perhaps sports like baseball and soccer were not the best for me. I was already taking piano lessons and  my mother asked what sports  I had in mind I rather sheepishly suggested ballet and square dancing because they needed boys and I didn’t enjoy contact sports.

 

I remember my mother being very happy about my choice and within a week I was attending my first square dance class. I could not have been happier because all the kids were very nice and the boys were like me; they were insecure around the girls and for a lack of a better words they were geeks just like me. From the very first class what had me in heaven were the big puffy crinolines the girls wore under their dresses. I was so happy when my mom picked me up I told her all about the nice girls and boys and then she asked out of the blue,

“Did you like the girl’s pretty dresses?”

I nodded and just kept going on telling her about what we did and learned as we drove home. A few days later my mom called me into her bedroom because she wanted to talk to me about something. She sat beside me and held my hand,

“Sweetie not all boys are like the other boys in school or in our neighborhood just like not all girls are the same. Many girls do not like doing the normal girlish things like playing with dolls, wearing dresses, baking, they like to play rough like boys, dress like boys, etc. Our society accepts that and because it is perfectly acceptable and we call them “tomboys”. “

“The same sort of feelings and interests happens with boys and even grown men. Society expects all boys and men to be tough and manly by playing sports, acting tough, being interested in cars and tools, the list goes on and on. However not all boys or men have those interests which is quite alright. In fact many men love to do and enjoy the types of things that women traditionally do like cooking, cleaning, caring for children, designing and sewing clothing, etc again society is okay with that. It goes even farther because some boys and men feel more comfortable and love dressing like girls and women because they enjoy the feeling of the soft clothing and it makes them feel happier and more in touch with their real feelings.

“Do you understand what I am saying?”

I nodded my head but didn’t say anything.

“Unfortunately our society does not feel as comfortable with boys and men dressing and acting like girls or women, there is no equivalent word for “tomboy” other than “sissy” which is not quite as nice.”

“Sweetie would you like to dress like a little girl while you are at home? Mommy does not mind at all, you would still dress like a boy at school and when we go out. Would you like that?”

I recall looking down in embarrassment but at the same time having mixed feelings relief. As I grew a little older I started to feel like I was different from the other boys my age for being such a wimp and also enjoying when I was dressed up and being diapered. If what my mom said was true I was not weird. I looked up at my mom as tears started to flow uncontrollably and I started to cry,

        “Yes mommy I want to be like a girl.”

My mom hugged me and reassured me for a long time, I remember for the first time feeling a sense of relief. I  then blurted out between my sobs,

        “Can I still wear diapers and baby pants too?”

 

 

There was a long pause before she answered,

“If you are still having accidents at night and it will make you feel better then yes you will need to be in night diapers.”

“I just want you to be happy and know that your father and I love you very much. I will call your father tonight to tell him about our discussion and how you’re switching from sports to ballet and square dancing.”

 

 

The thought of my father knowing and what his reaction made me burst into tears again because he was always pressuring me to be tougher and more assertive. A few hours later I could hear my mom talking on the telephone with my father and explaining everything. I dreaded to think of what he was saying and thinking.

Do you become a sissy from your envioroment or is it determined at birth?

 

I think all of us who have strong fetishes in our lives have read the studies about what causes these to develop as we enter puberty and beyond.

My childhood was unusual and even though I attended counselling to try to understand why I have the desires I have I was never completely convinced by the opinion provided by the psychiatrist.

While we generally can not accurately remember our lives prior to age four or five I was able to piece together those first few years in my early 20's based on photo albums I discovered after my parents passed away suddenly as well as discussions with my much older cousins and other relatives.

I am an only child and my parents were fairly old fashioned European parents where my mom was a stay at home mother and my dad worked long hours, travelled for business and did not get involved in child rearing matters. Through my entire childhood my mother and I were very close and it was often just her and I at home while my father travelled.

I recall even at a young age I was more attracted to girl's toys and dolls than the traditional boyish toys. I had long blond hair as a toddler and preschooler and in those early years I had vague recollections of being encouraged to explore my girlish interests and much of my clothing definitely had a more feminine look.

At age four or so I remember my mother changing my clothing to more boyish clothing when we visited relatives. I didn't ever question why I wore pink, my clothing had ruffles and at bedtime I wore nightgowns rather than PJ's.

One of my first discoveries when I was cleaning out my parents home after my father's  sudden death and my mom abruptly deciding to move from our family home to a their summer home was a  number of photo albums that I had never seen before. What I discovered was that my parents had a little girl prior to me and from what I could piece together she passed away at age three at about the same time that I was born. The other albums shocked me because what I saw were pictures of me dressed in feminine clothing well into my toddler and preschool years.

I learned from relatives that my mother had a terrible time after my sister's death and she compensated for this by dressing and treating me like a baby girl. My mother was extremely protective of me while I was growing up even into my teenage years. This will be the subject of many more postings in the future.

The other discovery I made was that even after I was potty trained at the normal age I was put in cloth diapers and plastic pants (this was the 1960's...pre disposibles) every evening until the next morning. This went on well into my school age years and the few times I questioned her on why she reassured me that it was normal for youngsters to be diapered and I also tended to have wetting accidents which was very true. My mom was always hyper sensitive to a messy home and clearly changing wet bedding was not something she wanted to deal with.

When I began to enter the age of remembrance (normally age four or five) I recall asking my mom why I wore girl's clothes sometimes and boy's other times and she would never really answer other than say she loved in cute dresses, playing and buying me dolls, etc. What I still have difficulty grasping is why I did not desire boy's toys and playing with the neighborhood boys. Most of my friends were little girls often a year or two younger than me and to be honest I enjoyed it.

The next posting will deal with my school age years and some of the incidents I ember vividly to this day.