Surveilled

SurveilledThis is where it begins for most of us: in our mother’s closet. Often there is a trigger, such as being dressed (perhaps for Halloween) by one’s mother or sister, but after that comes the clandestine raiding of the closet, usually (one hopes) when mother is out of the house. This reaches its apex when you get old enough that she can safely leave you behind for overnight trips. For previous generations, once you got the call that the parental units had arrived at their destination, it was full steam ahead for no-holds-barred cross-dressing. But now, for the generation that grew up with the Internet, laptop computers, mobile phones and very affordable surveillance cameras, it’s a whole different story. I think you get the picture (as does your mother), so read on and enjoy the consequences!

For prior work in a vaguely similar vein, you might wish to check out “Welcome to Womanhood“, “Home Alone” from 2014, and “Mother-Daughter Day” from 2013.

Amanda

5 thoughts on “Surveilled

  1. Pingback: Second Thoughts | Amanda's Reading Room

  2. Well done!
    Most of us would have killed for this. When my mother caught me she took me to her room and asked, “What’s with this? Do you really want to BE a girl?”
    With a Marine Drill Instructor for a dad I broke my own heart and told her what she really wanted to hear… I lied and said….well, what do you think I said!

    But this was 1968. Mom, in her loving way would have taken me to the doctors at the Marine base and, unbeknownst to both of us, they likely would have strapped a wire to my junk…another to my ankle. …gave me some pretty clothes, and as soon as I was dressed hit me with enough amps of electricity to make me vomit and soil myself. ….over and over. This is what passed as gender “therapy” back then.

    10 years later she again learned her (married) child was still dressing. She helped… . My final birthday gift was a gold nugget (not my favorite style of jewelry) “L”….. she had gotten a “C” for my sister’s birthday before. She said that she wanted to get one for my wife, because, “I want each of my daughters to have one.”
    — Thanks Mama. I wish it had been a different time. I love you too.

    • Well said. And thank you for sharing. Very nice that you and your mother came to an understanding of sorts. I never had that opportunity with mine. (And re: the gender ‘therapy’: yikes and double-yikes.)

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