This story is born from real feelings, real struggles, and real dreams—but it is not a mirror of one single life.
Some moments come from truth, some from imagination, and some from the quiet spaces in between. Names, faces, and details have been changed to protect hearts and identities.
What matters most is not whether every event truly happened—but that the emotions behind them are real.
It all started in 2006. I was twelve. One evening, I saw my mum folding dried clothes. In the pile, a satin bra peeked out. I touched it. It felt so soft. A sudden urge to keep it close washed over me. I knew it was Mum’s, but curiosity won. I asked her, “What is this? Why is it different from my vests? Can I wear it? Will I wear one daily when I grow up?”
Mum burst out laughing. I insisted she answer. Finally, she said, “Dear, it’s not for you. It’s for women like me. It won’t suit you.” I argued, “It will look good! Teach me how to wear it. I’ll show you.” She kept refusing, saying only women wear them. But I forced her. She finally agreed, saying, “Fine. You’ll see why men can’t.”
I took off my t-shirt. I was a bit chubby, with a soft chest and belly. Mum helped me put my arms through the straps and hooked it at the back. The satin touch was indescribable. My chest fit perfectly into the cups. It looked… right. A strange, wonderful feeling settled over me. I showed Mum. “See? It feels good. It looks good.”
She smiled softly. “Yes, son. It really does.” I stood before the mirror, staring. It was a new feeling I couldn’t express, but it felt incredibly right.
Mum said, “Okay, that’s enough. Remove it.” I begged, “Please, let me keep it on. Just at home.” She got angry, but my pleading wore her down. “Fine,” she sighed. “But remove it before your dad and sister get home.”
Thrilled, I put my t-shirt back on and went to my room. I locked the door, took the shirt off, and admired myself in the mirror. The purple satin shaped my chest. This was my First Crossdressing experience and while looking in the mirror Suddenly, I saw a woman who is wearing a purple color satin saree in the reflection. I felt feminine, drawn to the idea of wearing a blouse or a saree. But I had only half an hour before my sister returned.
With ten minutes left, I went to Mum. “Can you please remove this?” She was surprised. “Bored already?” “No,” I said. “I promised I would before they came home.”
She looked shocked, then happy. “Is that really you? You kept a promise!” She joked, “Maybe you should wear this daily, then.” I grinned. “Okay, I’m ready!”
She laughed, unhooking the bra. “Calm down, son. It’s for women, I told you.” But as she took it away, I whispered, “It’s not mandatory that only women should wear this.” The feeling it gave me was too real to ignore. That soft satin had shown me a part of myself I never knew was there.
Story will be continued in part 2
