Awkward Moments
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My Awkward Moment Part II free porn video
Part II
The ice cream shop was busy, but Mother and I stood in line as if
nothing were unusual. She looked at me closely and brushed a little hair
from my face. "You look happy!" she said.
I felt wonderful. A mother and daughter standing in line for an ice
cream. What a natural feeling. I couldn't understand how she could feel
so comfortable about all this 'girl' stuff with me.
"I've known for a long time, you know," she looked at me with
sympathetic eyes. "I've found your 'hidden' things all over the house. A
forgotten panty in the dryer, some 'Seventeen' magazine under a cushion
in the living room, even found some of your tampon tubes in the
wastebasket in the bathroom. You're not a very good hider of feminine
objects."
I started blushing a bit, though she was talking quietly enough as for
others not to hear our conversation. "I hope I'm not embarrassing you
dear. I've replaced those items where I knew you placed them in your
room. I've just been trying to figure the best time I could discuss this
with you without hurting you."
"Thank you!"
"I went to a gender identity counselor a few months ago and we started
on a plan of allowing you to start expressing your feminine self a
little at a time. That's why I knew about that Deuteronomy 22:5 verse.
You might not have noticed that I started getting some subscriptions to
some of the more 'women's' magazines. I hope you've started reading
'Cosmo,' it's a great magazine. And 'Glamour' will really help with
learning about eye shadows, and modern fashions, though the prices are
way above our budget. You see, James. I'm not angry or upset or even
surprised about your feminine tendencies. I couldn't care less. But I am
concerned about your happiness. If I can help by allowing you to dress
up a little, play 'Mother/Daughter' instead of trying to raise an
unhappy son, then its panties galore if that's what you want. But like I
said earlier, just wearing panties does not a woman make!"
"So, am I expected to go see a counselor now, Mother? How much does he
know?"
"It's a she, dear. And her name is Margaret. You'll just love her! She's
young and she's pretty. She wears the most adorable dresses and I'll bet
she could teach you a thing or two about cosmetics. Are you interested?"
I had to agree that I was interested in talking to a counselor. Not to
try and change but at least to explore this gender identity thing. "It's
odd, Mother, that I feel so much more natural as a girl. I like the
feeling of my dress and the breeze blowing the material. I like the idea
that I'm wearing lingerie and that I notice boys looking at me. And I
especially like the idea that I don't have to hide this from you
anymore."
We purchased ice cream cones and left the store, walking toward the
center of town to do some window shopping. I never walked this way with
my dad, eating an ice cream cone and talking. He was always too busy and
probably wasn't interested in anything I had to say anyway. With Mother,
we could talk about anything. Wow, what a difference between boys and
girls. Mother and I could stop at a window and admire a handbag or a
pair of shoes. We went into a store and looked closely at a dress that
Mother thought I would look good in. I told her I wasn't ready to go
into a dressing room, yet. But we did meander over to the nighties and I
picked out a couple of flannel nightgowns. Mother picked a couple of
night shirts for warmer nights, but I wanted to cover up as much of my
body as possible.
We spent a few minutes admiring the bras and panties, and I thought I'd
be totally mortified, but she made it so easy. "We're women, dear.
Relax. This is what girls wear and it's okay for you to be looking at
it." We talked about how much more girls could look at, and laughed
about the limitations of boys in the store. She pointed out the boys
will stay as far away from a lingerie department as possible. "It's like
they think the panties are going to bite them."
We made our purchases and left the store, carrying a bag of four
nightgowns for me! Awesome! Mother thought it'd be a good idea to get me
some bras but I wanted to be fitted for that at home. I explained that I
just wasn't comfortable about being fitted for bras in the ladies
dressing room. She understood completely. We talked about getting me
some padded training bras and if I decided to continue with developing
real breasts, I'd have to start hormone treatments. That's why I was
going to see a gender identity counselor. She told me more about
Margaret.
"She's a new counselor, dear. What am I supposed to call you? James is a
boy's name. Totally unacceptable for a girl who I just bought some
flannel nightgowns and pretty night shirts for. What is your girl name?"
"Jamie, Mother. Please call me Jamie."
"Of course, Jamie. I probably could have figured that out for myself.
It's a lovely girl's name."
"Any who how! Margaret just graduated from college. She recently married
and I think she's pregnant. That's good for you because you and she can
talk about babies and such. That's a very important difference between
men and women. We girls love to talk about babies and clothes. I want
you and Margaret to talk about anything you want without being
embarrassed. I think the only way to understand women is to live as one.
Not hiding your panties under your mattress, Jamie, but to wear them
proudly and girlish. You'll love wearing pretty clothes and not having
to worry about what anyone thinks. You'll love talking with other girls
about babies and pretty skirts, and 'where'd you get those shoes? Like
totally!"
Isn't Mother the greatest? She's researched all this, and is totally
accepting. We walked a while longer, still admiring fashions and shoes
in the windows. Laughing and chatting like it was totally normal and
something we do all the time. Oh, how I wish. We crossed the street and
walked toward home, stopping at a convenience for some things Mother
knew I'd need.
"Secret deodorant! Never go out without smelling pretty, dear.
Pantiliners, for those inconvenient times of the month. Lipstick, red
for night and pink for day. You'll get all this eventually. Nail polish.
Let's go with a light pink for now, until your nails get a little
longer. Maybe we'll do some false nails. Let me think about that till
later. A cute little hat. We've got to get your hair done
professionally, but until then, a pretty cap to cover your head. Hmmmm.
Breath mints. For kissing. Don't ask, Jamie, just do! We carry these
things in our purse or handbag." Mother grabbed a little handbag that
went well with my skirt. "Perfect."
She grabbed a couple packages of pantyhose and a bottle of girl's
perfume and headed toward the counter. I was happy that it was a girl
who was working at the register. I'd have been embarrassed if a boy
where pricing a package of pantiliners. Yuck! I've never thought about
this as much as I was now, but being a girl involves a lot of 'sister'
things that boys just don't understand. She said she liked the bag
Mother was purchasing for me. "Awesome nail color!" "Oh, I love the
'Poeme' perfume." Comments like that for almost every item. Male cash
register attendants don't say anything except maybe 'hello,' and the
total price. Boring!
So now I carried two bags. Nightgowns and feminine products, all for me!
I love being a girl. I like not having to worry about being embarrassed
when purchasing anything. I like the idea that I get to start wearing
girl's clothes around the house. I really was paying a lot more
attention to skirt lengths and panty hose colors. I must have pointed
out a million things to Mother as we walked home that evening. She just
laughed and answered all my questions. I think in the end, we walked
arm-in-arm up the steps to our house. I ran to my room to put on one of
my new nightgowns. Mother went to her room and put on her jammies as
well. It's funny that she used to be a little embarrassed about walking
about the house in her nightgown so she'd usually wear a robe as well.
Tonight, we both walked about the house in our gowns and I hope she
wasn't embarrassed, but I know I wasn't. I felt so right, I wanted to
scream. I love this gown. I love that it has ribbons and lace and is
pretty with flowers and I sprayed it with perfume and I feel feminine
and I want to feel like this all the time! Mother patted me on the butt
and had me sit next to her as she watched the television.
She knew I was wearing panties, and I didn't care. I was tempted to pull
my nighty up enough to show her I coordinated my panties with the
nightgown. I didn't, but I smiled about it. I knew that a pink cotton
high waist brief goes perfect with my flannel gown. I don't care that
most girls would call these 'granny' panties, but I felt wonderful.
Mother and I talked about a bra fitting and I told her I'd like to wait
for a couple of days. But I was definitely looking forward to wearing
bras like any other girl my age.
My first meeting with Margaret was much better than I could have
imagined. I wore a pretty floral dress, just above the knee length, my
new pantyhose, some shoes that Mother picked up for me, and a pretty
cotton panty. Mother was right though, I really should have gotten a few
bras that first night. Even padded ones would have helped a little.
Margaret asked me to call her 'Madge' and she called me Jamie from the
get go. She was wearing a pretty dress as well, same length (funny how
easy it is to notice those things). Girls really do worry about their
knees and keeping their legs closed and stuff like that. I thought it
funny that I have to start worrying about all those things. Mother
inspected my legs after I bathed and shaved them well. She also taught
me a few lady like moves like smoothing my skirt before sitting as to
not wrinkle the dress. Girl stuff!
Our meetings are to last one hour, two times each week. Madge wants to
talk about my childhood and study how this came about. I want her to
teach me how she does her makeup; she's a fashion goddess and her makeup
is flawless. And again Mother was right about talking about her baby. I
don't know why boys don't talk about this stuff, but being pregnant
brings on a whole flood of emotions and sometimes I feel like the
counselor when Madge starts crying a little about all her concerns about
being a mommy.
She showed me the maternity clothes catalog, including the maternity
bras and panties. How feminine is that? The bra cup flips down and there
are these adorable little colorful butterflies for baby to look at when
she's nursing. Madge wasn't uncomfortable about showing me the maternity
briefs. I thought they were really pretty with the expandable lace panel
that supports a woman's growing tummy. I guess I'm more comfortable with
briefs anyway. Most girls my age wear g-strings. I'm totally not into
some material sticking into my bottom all day. I don't care how lacy and
pretty it is. I love the floral patterns and womanly feeling a panty
brief makes me feel. So maternity panties - bring em on! I'd wear them
just because they are pretty. Not a lot of color selections. Mostly
white, beige, and black, but hey, it's what a woman wears so get over
it, girlfriend. That's how Madge talks to me. She's a doll.
Of course the conversation of boys always comes up. I told Madge I must
be a lesbian because I'm just not interested, though the thought of
giving a guy a blowjob has started sounding a little more interesting. I
told her my panties get a little tighter when I'm thinking about stuff
like that. Madge just smiles and tells me that she doesn't think I'm a
'lesbo' just yet. I'd say that about 30 minutes of our time is about
early memories and the other 30 is about girl stuff. She's taught me
about mascara and eye shadows. Every time she'll suggest an article to
read or a book I might be interested in. Of course, she has all the
women's magazines about as she only talks with girls like me. I guess
she has a lot of patients because she seems like she's rich.
Mother drops me off and picks me up. They spend a few minutes each week
talking about me privately. I figure that Madge is just giving her
suggestions or assigning her homework or something. Sometimes Mother
will bring in some papers or schedule a whole hour with Madge. I think
Mother would be wise to seek some counseling as well as it really seems
to help me relieve a little of the stress a girl like me is going
through.
Last week Mother and I started redecorating my room. It's never been
masculine or dirty, but to repaint in pink and a light pink carpet have
definitely lightened the atmosphere. She even bought me a little
ballerina light. I told her I was much too old for a girly lamp like
that, but she just laughed it off and told me it was therapeutic. I
wasn't going to argue. She also started buying me Barbie dolls and
stuffed animals. Again telling me it was therapeutic. I asked her if it
was for me or her, as I certainly wasn't going to spend time playing
with Barbie dolls. Though I did catch myself a couple of times changing
a dress, or admiring her swimsuit (once!)
Mother slowly started purchasing girl's furniture, like my vanity and
the white bureau. I like the canopy bed, with the pink material hanging
from the posts. It's really pretty, and I feel like a princess when I'm
sleeping now. It's getting warmer and Mother has purchased some warmer
weather clothing. I'll do babydoll nighties now, with those cute
matching bloomers. You know what I'm talking about, I'm sure. And Mother
and I both sun ourselves in two-piece swim suits. As a boy, I just can't
imagine Mother allowing me to put sunscreen on her, especially near her
bottom or breasts, and I'd have been weird about her touching me with
sunscreen as a boy, but she touched me like a girl, telling me I'd like
I was going to enjoy having a bikini tan line.
Mother started buying me more panties. It seemed like every day, I'd get
a new package of days of the week panties or a panty she knew I'd just
'adore!' And I have to admit that I do like the idea that my undies
drawers are filling nicely. She'll buy me some camisoles or leggings.
Her latest purchase was a lime green leggings. I really like them. There
is just something feminine about colorful leggings. They look cute under
a really short dress. I think Mother is just trying to dress me a little
more girlish. She says that Madge told her to play dress up with me.
Something about her missing out on not having a daughter so both her and
I win when we do little girl stuff. Girls stop taking ballet lessons at
about 10 years of age. Mother has decided that she and I were going to
exercise in leotards. Another suggestion from Madge, I guess. But
that's okay. It helps to see how the hormone treatments are going. Oh, I
forgot to tell you. They've put me on female hormones. I guess I'm going
to grow real breasts. I kind of thought there were some internal
changes, and Mother and Madge have talked to me about this. I'm sure
I've given permission, but I really didn't understand the significance
of the decision until I started feeling a little more emotional and my
breast nipples started feeling a little more sensitive.
I have been crying more lately. Not sad or depressed crying, but chick-
flicks make me tear up a bit. It's therapeutic, I can hear Mother saying
that now even as I write. I like seeing my red nails flash as I type. I
like tasting my lipsticks and smelling my perfume as I type as well.
I've got to get ready to go and see Madge, but if you like my journal
(as Madge has required from me) then I'll be happy to write some more.
She wants me to write about why this has happened.
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