The seats around us quickly filled up and Mother started making small talk with the other adults. I sat quietly, nervously holding my candy pink clutch bag on my lap and thinking about why my seemingly willing-to-be-petticoated brother had to be threatened with a nappy whereas I didn’t! It’s not the first time I’ve cursed myself for not putting up a proper fight when Mother began to dress me as a girl, but as Vincent informed me earlier today, it’s likely to be the last time so I may as well try to enjoy it. Looking at the boy locked inside his outfit, I guess I’ve got a lot to be thankful for.

Before long the ceremony started and one by one, Vincent’s entire school year briefly took to the stage to receive their certificate. Vincent’s probably used to it but for me, seeing so many sixteen year old boys wearing heels and skirts and make-up was a real revelation. “It’s so normal here!” I thought.

On the whole, the hour long ceremony was as dull as dishwater. We were only there to witness Vincent’s brief appearance and had no real interest in any of the others, each of whom received a small applause from friends and family members when they appeared. Mother and I clapped and cheered as Vincent took to the stage. He looked as proud as punch as he received his certificate and smiled sweetly at the crowd before doing a little curtsey and leaving the stage. The moment the last graduate had left the stage, everyone got up and began to mingle. Mother and I sought out Vincent so we could congratulate him again. I wasn’t exactly pleased when Vincent introduced me to a few of his classmates because dressed as I am, what would they think? It wouldn’t be quite so bad if they hadn’t stared directly at my chest… or more at my bra. Why I’m worrying I don’t really know, each of them wears feminine clothing too… it’s just their underwear isn’t on display as mine is.

To this day, that remains the only time I’ve worn feminine clothing outside of the house and in public… and it pains me to admit that it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I expected. Everyone was nice enough and the main focus was on Vincent and the other graduates, so I spent most of the afternoon loitering in the background. Of course Mother wanted a photograph of Vincent and I together because we both looked “so grown up” as she put it. Compared to the dresses we’ve both had to wear in the past, she’s absolutely right. We all clapped and cheered as the graduates assembled and threw their mortarboards into the air, and after a little more mingling, we finally we left. Mother claimed it was the proudest day of her life!

On arrival home, Vincent went and changed into his boy clothes and I asked Mother if I could change too. Mother reminded me that she’d spent a lot of money on my outfit and reminded me that I’d agreed to wear it all day. I don’t recall making such an agreement but there’s was no point arguing. Mother had obviously made her mind up and it was the last time I was petticoated.

~o0o~

A gentle nudge dragged me out of my thoughts. Bekah needed my lighter so I reached into my pocket and passed it to her. “What were you thinking about?” she asked.

“Ah nothing.” I replied as a clear image of my outfit on the day my brother graduated lingered in my mind’s eye. “Just stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Memories I’d rather not have.” I replied.

“Dressing as a girl?” she asked. I nodded and cast her a sympathy seeking smile. “Well… it doesn’t have to be a memory.” she said.