Hiding My Arms and Legs Relaxes Me

Ever since I was a small boy I have found comfort and pleasure hiding my arms and legs inside my clothes. To begin with at age 7 I loved wearing my Dad's oversized pyjamas to bed and knotting the arms and legs so that I felt trapped. My family were kind to me and for Christmas and Birthdays they obliged by answering my request for adult size nightshirts and pyjamas which I adored, even though they worried about me tripping up and injuring myself.

By accident one of my distant aunts got confused and bought me a pair of winceyette ladies nighties with pretty flowers and lace for my birthday. I was hooked and thereafter I could hide my arms and legs inside girly sissy nighties and parade around the house pretending to be a girl. My pocket money was often spent in ladies shops supposedly buying a feminine nightie or pyjamas for my mother or imaginary aunts. I also went to jumble and rummage stores buying vintage ladies nightie very cheaply.

My parents never worried about this and soon my father and another brother were enjoying the comfort and pleasure of wearing girly nightwear. Their hidden desires to be gender fluid had been realised in a safe and homely environment.

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  • Hay the comfort of feeling trapped was something I liked. I used to get my mom to tuck me into bed super tight so I could not move.

  • There must be a link to the old fashioned babyhood practice of swaddling babies tight in shawls and blankets. I remember that my grandmother used to do this to all of her grandchildren, having followed the traditions of Indian women whilst her husband served in an army base abroad. It must be an instinctive feeling about being nurtured and cosseted.

  • It's so nice to read the occasional positive memory like this.

    My mom was very accommodating and supportive of me.

    I had to dress in tights and a brown tunic to be a rat in a school play of the pied piper in year 2 at school. I recall dressing up at home in this costume for years after the play. It felt like wearing a dress and mom seemed quite OK with it.

    By the time I had gotten to about 10 the tights were worn out but I used to wear them to bed and under my jeans to school. One day mom realised this and I recall this conversation about them and she started buying me tights and asked me if I would like her to buy me a dress and I balked at that. Wish now she had persisted.

  • I am glad that my story brought back such happy memories.

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