My mother was the one who helped me learn to like wearing dresses.  I was eleven at the time and had become unable to walk because of a crippling form of arthritis.  An aunt saw how hard it was for her to dress me in pants and such and suggested that she dress me in dresses instead as it would be so much easier on her.  Initially this is what she had done, but as I regained more use of my legs, the never ending supply of dresses continued.  MY aunt even sent dresses her own daughter had outgrown.   I preferred the dresses at home; however at thirteen the girl next door saw me in a dress and said she thought I looked cute in them.  She would come to my house and help me dress-up in them, later I would even go to her house dressed completely as a girl.  Her mother knew I was a boy but never degraded me for wearing dresses.   This continued until I was almost seventeen.  Today I still wear skirts, but my days in dresses in the 1960's were the best times of my life.

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