What would you do?

I'm sure at one time or another, if you are a crossdresser, you were caught. What did you do?

I remember the first time I was caught.
So this story will eventually make it into my story site as part of She. It sucks because I have to rewrite the entire book, minus chapter 1.

This time I wasn't caught in girls' clothes. I was just caught with them. Well, sort of.

I was very young, maybe 8 or 9, and I had gotten a hold of a pair of girls' panties. Don't ask.

I used to keep them hidden in a box in the closet of our spare room. Mine, my brothers, and the the spare rooms were all upstairs. My parents had their room downstairs. On occasion, I would sneak into the box and get them out. I loved the soft feel of them around my butt and the way the lace felt on my legs. So obviously, I wore them as much as I possibly could.

One day, I went into the box and got them. I was headed back to my room to put them on when I caught a glimpse of my mom coming up the stairs. I panicked and made a bee line into my room. Quickly I shoved them up under the blankets in my bed.

My mom saw me and knew I was up to something, so she came in to find out what was going on. I broke down in tears, and tried to deny that I was up to something, but it was fairly obvious that something was going on. She was relentless, not planning on going anywhere until she found out my plight. I just wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere, because I was so embarrassed.

Finally, after what seemed forever, I gave in and showed her what I was hiding beneath my sheets. I pulled them out in a bunch and handed them to her. My face was beat red as she unraveled them like a hanky, trying to figure out what she was holding. She tried to ask me, but in my shaken state, all I could do was cry.

I still remember the look of shock on her face as she finally had them stretched out in front of her. It took mere seconds for her to realize what was in her hands. The look went from surprise to confusion as her glance turned to me. I knew I was going to get it.

But she never laid a hand on me. For those of you who may be too young, parents used to be able to spank their kids to get them to behave. It was legal, and encouraged; and there was never any cops involved.

Thus, she never hit me, she just asked where I got them from. I lied and said I found them because I thought that would be better than the truth. She kept asking, but I stuck to my story.

Finally, she gave up and went on a rant about how those were for girls, and she did not have a little girl. I was a boy, I should not wear such things. I just continued my crying. She took them with her and marched out of the room. I never saw them again, and we never talked about that the rest of my childhood.

I wonder how different things would have been if I would have just said something. I should have told how they made me feel, and that I wanted to wear them all the time. I should have told her right then and there that I so desperately wanted to be that little girl she always wanted.

Maybe she would have taken me shopping. Bought me more panties. Maybe a dress or two. Who knows?

This memory of getting caught has stuck with me my entire life. I will never forget it. I will never forget her words. "I'm a boy, not a girl" I often wonder why I feel like a girl then.

In 2012, I told my mom how I felt. She was staying with me at the time, and not having a girly time was driving me nuts. I began hating her for being here. So, I let her know that I have always felt like a girl; that I really wanted to be a girl.

She was passively supportive. She didn't jump for joy, but she didn't slap me in the face either. She accepted that as part of who I was. I dressed like a girl in front of her several times after. There was no comments, positive or negative. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. I was kind of hoping for more, good or bad. Not whatever.

Anyways, while I was spilling my guts she made a comment about always loving me, and that she would have never cared what I chose to be. I called her on that, using story above. She never remembered that ever happening. Funny how I constantly think of it, and to her it never happened.

To make a long story just a little longer, if I was in the position in this cap with the knowledge I had back then, I would have cried. But with the knowledge that I have now after coming out to my mom, I would apologize for wearing her stuff, and asked her to take me shopping.

What would you do?