Staycation escape

Staycation Escape

Staycation contest entry

Sometimes, you dont have to go away to escape.

Or at least, I didn’t. My “staycation” gave me all the escape I needed.

It happened the summer I turned 16. My mother and stepfather announced they were going to take a holiday as a delayed honeymoon since they hadnt taken one when they had gotten married, and my brother, who had just graduated high school was taking advantage of camp that was free, and would also be gone for most of a month.

Which left me by myself at home, for the first time.

Which meant i could finally try and answer some questions I had about myself without worrying about what anybody else thought about it.

Like whether I was a boy or a girl.

It had been ten years previous to my “staycation” that I had begun to wonder about my gender. I had been raised a boy, but something about being one felt ... off.

Now I was going to have the privacy to experiment.

Not that I hadn’t tried some experiments in being a girl before. But they had always been done knowing that people who might get upset about it were close by, so they never really got very far.

Now it was going to be just me, for almost two whole weeks.

To make things more interesting I actually had access to more than one house. A neighbor had asked me to feed and check on her cat while she was away, so I could explore her place for ideas about what to do about the girl thing as well.

That probably sounds a little pervy, but nothing I had in mind had anything to do with sex, rather everything to do with making my outside match my inside.

The first day, I did nothing toward my goal, other than think about what I wanted to do. Then, the second day, I started going through my mom’s stuff looking for something that might fit me.

And so I ended up wearing my mom’s swimsuit.

And because it has a bit of padding in the breasts, wearing it got me closer to looking like a girl than I had dared was possible.

A skirt and some chunk-heel mules were next, and a old Halloween wig topped things off.
A look in the mirror astounded me.

I really looked like a girl.

Finally, I got myself together, and it was time to check on the cat next door.

If the cat had any opinion on my outfit, she kept it to herself.

Once my duties were complete, I returned home, and went to the kitchen to make myself a snack. Once I was fortified, I went to the living room and watch some TV.

Eventually, the day passed, and after another check on the cat, I went to my mother’s room to sleep in her bed.

I’m not sure what my stepfather thought of the bedroom, as it was overloaded with pink. Pink sheets, pink pillow cases, pink curtains, and a pink blanket.

To me, it was ... soothing.

I’d love to say I did something terribly exciting while I had the opportunity, but honestly, it was pretty much the same every day after the first. I took care of the neighbor’s cat, I ate, I watched tv, and on the last day that I knew for sure I was going to be alone, I carefully washed the clothes I had borrowed, and put them back.

I did learn something, though. Whatever was going on with me, it had nothing to do with what I would later discover was called fetish dressing.

I had basically no sexual reaction at all to being dressed as a girl. Instead, all I felt was ... relief. Like I had been able to take off a heavy suit of armor ...

And just breathe freely for the first time.

Sadly, when my mom and step-dad came back I didn’t talk about my little “escape”.

Between a healthy fear of my step-father’s reaction, and a total lack of language to explain myself, I went back into the state I was before.

At least on the outside. Inside, a debate raged, died, and raged again, but wouldnt get resolved for several decades.

When I finally learned what they called what I was, and what I could do about it.

But despite the delay, I still look back on those two weeks, as the real start of my journey.

My “staycation escape” that started it all ..


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