Led Into It
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I don’t know how I let it get this far. I blame Abigail, but not in a nasty way. She is still my BFF.

She said that whole Lolita thing was a fashion statement. She said that is about expressing your femininity in an ageless way, although there are plenty who think that it is a bit creepy.

She said that the fashions are not “little girl outfits” but clothes that deny age. I have to say, that she looked great in those clothes. I told her so.

“You can wear it too,” she said. “In your case we call the style ‘Brolita’. Come on, it will be fun.”

I looked it up and I found out that it was true – there was such a thing. But I said that these guys were gay, or trans, or something.

“No,” she said. “It is just that there is no male costume to match this look, so some of the male partners of girls who dress this way, just follow the lead of their girlfriends. Don’t worry. You will still be a guy … unless you are not confident in your sexuality?”

No guy wants to hear that, so of course I said that my clothes had nothing to do with my manhood. But it turns out I was wrong.

The photo is the first time. I was just trying things out. I started by appearing a little disgruntled, but I was actually having a good time … even a great time. There is something very liberating about being so completely dressed that you do not even recognize yourself. It is like you become somebody else, and you have the option to be whoever you want to be. I suppose that was when I learned that I did not really like being me, and I was overjoyed to be the complete opposite. It is the clothes that do it. They do change you, although not that outfit.

Even heavy makeup cannot conceal the shadow of a beard and the leggings and long sleeves were there so that I did not need to shave down like some brolitas do. But with the wig and the hairband and the colorful dress I felt nothing like the sad me that you see the last trace of in the image. The moment that I stepped into the world it was like I was seeing everything for the first time. I felt like a child again, hungry only for happiness.

But after a while I just felt dowdy in this outfit. I told her that I was prepared to push it a little further – just for fun. I was ready for that shave down and to do something to avoid that beard, which would be a longer-term thing, as I was told. That way we could share the Brolita/Lolita lifestyle anytime that we weren’t at work.

The result was that my life became split in two. I had a grey male life where I seemed perpetually depressed, and my happy non-male life. I suppose that after discussing flexible working arrangements with my boss I started to realize that I could reduce my sad days and choose happiness.

I know that it is a fantasy thing, but it is just that since Abigail left me and left behind a whole bunch of clothes and other stuff, that I have taken to dressing only in female clothes and putting up my hair which has now grown quite long and full. The hormones might have contributed, but I don’t have to take them.

Like I said, it really is Abigail who got me started, but because I am happy, how could I not love her still? I mentioned that she is still my BFF. Lately we have been double dating a couple of guys. They are not the kind of guys who would ever think of becoming Brolitas, and I am glad of it. I guess they are confident in their sexuality. I am just beginning to understand mine.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2023