Does this sound familiar?

Angela,
What a great story ... Thank you for sharing..I envy you that you have been accepted as Angela... It must be a great feeling......Leonara

I only share part of that beginning. I was not dressed up by older sisters or family. But I sure took notice of what they wore, as well as female classmates in school. I was first attracted to girls' tights, ever since I had my first accidental touch of my teacher's leg! That was either 2nd or 3rd grade. I remember that incident like it just happened! I began admiring how the girls wore tights so often back then (the 60s and early 70s). Anyone who remembers the soap opera era commercials knows what I mean when it was a 'tease' to see them. The Playtex 18-hour bra or girdle, or the Hanes or L'eggs pantyhose commercials. My older sister wore opaque tights quite often with a miniskirt to school. Even better, she was a beauty pageant winner in local pageants. I wanted to look and feel as pretty. But there was only one way to enjoy what she wore, to wear it in secret. I came from a large family and doing anything in secret was the most difficult thing. My only clamshell was in bed, which I had my own. During the day, I'd 'borrow' one of my sister's tights or pantyhose and hide them in my bed, usually under the mattress. Late at night, I'd slip them on after removing my pajamas and have the most intense fantasies. (you all know where this going, right?).
Anyway, I wouldn't keep my sister's tights for more than a night. Since she was a slob, she wouldn't miss one pair from her cluttered bedroom floor, at a time. This went on night after night, a different pair, for I don't know how long. One Saturday, my mom was changing the linen in our beds and discovered my sister's tights. Instead of scolding me, she calmly told me to put them back where I found them. The secret was up! But my mom didn't tell anyone that I know of. But from that point on, she told people she wished I had been born a girl! So did I. She didn't explain herself, she just made that statement a lot. Well, my 'borrowing' kept on for a few years. There was a point when my sister was actually complaining about missing a pair and my mom confronted me about it. But at the time, I had not 'borrowed' any. My mom told her to clean up her room, she would find them. She did!
Right after HS, my sister moved in with her boyfriend but left her entire wardrobe in her room for a while. My mom moved me into her room telling me not to touch anything of 'her's'. What a delight it became! I couldn't resist my sister's clothes! I started with her 2-piece red bathing suit and sheer pantyhose, feeling like a Rockettes dancer! Then I wore her bras, panties, tops, skirts, and dresses, all behind my new locked door! How I wanted to live it, 24 hours a day! It felt so right, so me. But that only lasted about six months and my sister came and claimed all her things. She never knew I had worn or tried on everything she had, even her heels! I did, however, keep a pair of pantyhose of hers. I was able to keep them for a few years inside a locked wooden box. That was my only 'escape' for a few years. The longing was hard and long, too.
Those of you wondering, I never went after my mom's clothes, since she was a very large woman and anything she had would have literally fallen off me.
I hope this explains 'what happened' in my life.

Age 8.

I heard my brother (8 years older) telling a cousin that if they had a spy camera (you know the kind you seen in the movies about the size a pack of gum) that at my age they could put me in a girls swimsuit with a swim cap on and send me into the girls locker room and have me take pictures.

Well, shortly after that while I was home alone, I was going through some boxes my family had stored in my oversized closet and discovered a girl’s swimsuit and cap. I had to see if my brother was right. I tried them on and went to my sister’s room where her vanity mirror would let me see what I looked like. I liked what I saw. My brother was right. I could pass as a girl dressed like that. I fell in love with the idea and since I was a latchkey kid and had about 2 hours home alone Monday through Friday, I put on the swimsuit those days. There were some panties with the side seam ripped out, I safety pinned it and tried them on once as well.

About a month or so after I began the nearly daily wearing of the swimsuit, my dad was going through those boxes and discovered the safety pins in the panties and asked me about it. Since my dad was into corporal punishment and seldom asked questions about my behavior that he didn't already know the answer to, I admitted that I had done it and when asked why, I admitted it was to try them on. He didn't ask about the swimsuit and I didn't volunteer any information. He didn't punish me, but the box was gone.

I was infatuated with the girl in the mirror, and with the swimsuit gone, I took to exploring my sister’s clothes. By the time I was ten, I could put on seamed nylons (real nylons, pantyhose hadn't been invented yet) and keep the seams straight, fasten a bra behind my back, button blouses up the back and zip dresses up the back and walk in heals confidently without wobbling.

In the meantime, I learned a lot of things from my sister by asking why or how girls did things. She took it as me being curious and answered openly. Things like "How do you know where to put perfume?" She explained about pulse points and told me where they were. I learned to do ironing and helped her with the laundry. That gave me an excuse to ask more questions about her clothes.

At one point when money was tight and my dad was in a hurry we went shopping for school clothes and somehow we forgot to buy any new underwear for me. Since she had gotten a new supply, mainly because hers was getting too small, she offered to lend my some of hers until dad got paid and we could remedy the situation. So for a couple of weeks, I was sanctioned to wear her underwear. Needless to say when I got new underwear, I didn't return them all. I kept five pair. That was really cool because the only thing that worried me about wearing my sisters underwear when I was dressing up was that she was a neat freak and I had to be extremely careful to put them back, folded in the same way she did and neatly stacked in the drawer. With the five that I kept, no problem I just wore "mine." The only trick was that I had to hand washed them and hang them to dry in a secret place. I only did one pair at a time.

Outgrow it??? Ha! When I grew up I just switched whose clothes I borrowed. All was well and good until my wife caught me in her clothes. At the end of the discussion, it was determined I could wear the clothes but I was not to let her see me. (That changed over the intervening 45 plus years since she caught me)

Now my woman's wardrobe is well stocked and the little bit that I have that can pass for men's clothes makes up only about a quarter of it. My girly clothes amount to about four times the amount of clothes my wife had in total. I have ten pair of shoes (I think it's only ten) and only one of them would pass close inspection for men's and they are really women's penny loafers.

Wearing women's clothes has become a way of life.

One older brother who joined the military by age 16, 2 older sisters, one in the military, one married to a Cop, 1 younger sister, an equal rebel to the status quo. Hand me down clothes from my sisters lit up my inner world regardless of the reason they were handed down because they fed that quiet secret part of me that loves presenting female.
I don't have the words, but suspect I don't need them here, to describe the feeling of walking through the world dressed pretty, with confidence, poise and inner calm.
I live in a world of beautiful color now and for that I AM Grateful. . .

Namaste'
n huggles for you Angela
Char

Thanks for sharing, Angela.

Wow, to be entered into beauty pagents, as a girl, and actually win them... I am so Jealous!

Sophie here was born a girly child almost completely deprived of feminine things, and isolated in other ways too: really scarily smart, lacking the social intelligence to understand just how different and threatening that could make me, and needing to wear thick glasses all through my childhood, which totally ruined my looks, and was another source of relentless teasing.

I only had one older brother and nothing female round the house growing up (no girl toys or clothes). Plus rather conservative Christian parents - though they mellowed later - and a really strict, financially controlling grandfather who always thought he was being helpful, but made life hard for all of us. (And is still doing so in his nineties). Added to that, I then got sent to an all-boys selective private school - courtesy of said grandfather - and lost contact with all my young female friends. And then I got put up a year (which made me even more unpopuiar). Oh, and of course everyone thought I was gay.

Things got even more bizarrely complicated after I turned 18, but that's another story.

Oh well. However us girls start out, it seems we do finally find who we are.

There’s an old family story told to me by my mother that I was wearing a girls bathing suit as a toddler because it was a hand me down which was all they had. In that photo, that child is smiling beautifully. No hint of discomfort or trauma… why would there be ? I was who I was. My mom relayed to me how she dearly wanted a beautiful little girl, and I’ve always suspected that my dressing in female clothes at a young age was not just coincidental. That a truth had been broached. I’ve gravitated to female clothing and began dressing as long as I can remember. It has always brought a sense of release and calm, and the acknowledgement of the discomfort of the skin I was in. I recently went to a local watering hole with my life partner and a girl-friend dressed en femme. Dressed in a borrowed smart white dress, black hose, calf length zip up suede boots sporting 5 inch spiked heels, auburn short hair, some cleavage, and a smattering of powder and eye liner. No one recognized me as my partner proceeded to introduce me by my nom de Guerre. Some of those whom we knew did a second take and said … “wait… is that…??” which would be followed with a wide smile. I realize that it’s a Jedi Mind Trick of sorts, but it was wonderful to almost pass without trying.