How I started Cross-dressing (maybe even why) Part 1

If you speak with enough 'girls', we all pretty much started out the same way. We tried on mom's clothes, or maybe a sister made us into a girl by dressing us up in her clothes as her sister. That story is familiar to most of us. Somehow we got access to girl clothing and tried it out. And WOW, it felt different. Good somehow..... maybe it was a clear good feeling.... maybe it took a few times to really GET IT.

That's how it worked for me. I was a latch key kid in the suburbs. My parents always worked. I was left in the hands of sitters/daycare until the age of 12. Even before then I preferred to just hang at home, ditching the neighborhood lady that was supposed to watch me. That wasn't so much about cross-dressing as much as I learned to enjoy my own company early on. (only child syndrome?)

Actually I didn't discover mom's things until I was 14. I remember the scenario vividly.
Summertime. August. New school year hadn't started yet. Warm Afternoon. I was headed to the shower. Of the two bathrooms, only mom and dad's bathroom had a shower. Towel and washcloth in hand, I was walking through their bedroom and for some reason I paused and poked around in mom and dad's drawers. (Kids do that, you know) Dad's drawers were boring: clean handkerchiefs, underwear, socks, a couple of mementos from the past. Mom's really weren't that much better: bras, panties, girdles... boring.

One of her drawers, however, was a little more interesting: old pantyhose. Clean, laundered, but used pantyhose. Most, if not all, with runs in them. This was the drawer where mom's pantyhose went to die. Knowing mom, she couldn't part with the money she spent on those things by throwing them away, just because they had just a run in the legs. Mom was crafty. She sewed, and knitted and crocheted for my whole life. My guess is that her plan was to save this old hose until she had some project she could use them on. Mom was that way. She wasn't a hoarder they way you see on TV these days, but she definitely hoarded certain things. Let's just say that when it came to craft materials, when we were cleaning out the house after she passed..... there was enough craft stuff to supply at least 10 other crafty grannies.

Anyway, so I looked through this drawer of doomed hose, and thought maybe I would try a pair on. Even at that time I knew not to try any pair that were in her hamper or discarded on the floor. Clearly these were on the active list. I knew that If I damaged those in any way, there might be questions hurled in my direction.

This was a good decision not to use the 'actives'. Once I chose a pair from the drawer and decided to try them on, I found out something very quickly. You can't just put hose on the way you might put on socks the way little boys do. Jamming your foot into a sock, and just pulling the sock up works great on thick sock material. Not so much for delicate nylon/spandex combinations. So I made my first runner. Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! After a few minutes, I calmed down. Try again. Slowly. Ok. got both legs up. Pulled the panty part all the way up. Yes, over the raging teenage boner I had going on. In fact, I managed to tuck my boner down one leg of the hose.

Now what?

I didn't know. I didn't know what to do with myself.