Why I wear dresses. Bereavement

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Sometimes it is easy to see how the dots join up in your life when you look back, but if someone at the beginning of a journey said this is where you will end up you would not believe them.

For me it was the early death of my sister, a sudden and tragic accident that left us all devastated. It took weeks before I could look inside her room, it took weeks more before I stepped inside, it still smelt of her, mum had been in a cleaned but moved nothing. It was almost a shrine. But I wanted something to remember her by, so the first thing I did was to just sit on her bed and breathe in the scents and remember her. But it was when I opened her wardrobe and the smell was strongest, I could pull a blouse to my nose and inhale. The next day I picked up a nightie to sleep with, just put in my bed so I could have the memory. I have no idea why I felt the need to wear it to bed, but I did. It was short silk and pink, so very girlie and possibly a gift from a boyfriend, it just had that look about it. It also felt good on my skin, I immediately saw the attraction of the nightie as a nice thing to sleep in.

A week later I was sitting on her bed thinking about her again, laid out on a small vanity was her makeup, I picked up a lipstick, it was her favourite colour, without thinking I smeared some on my lips and looked in the mirror. What a mess! I cleaned it off and carefully redid my lips taking care to get the shape right. The colour was just so her, I wasn't looking at the rest of me, just my lips and smiled which made them look even better. After a while I came out of my reverie, cleaned my lips and went on to what ever I was supposed to be doing. But the next day I did the same thing, put the lipstick on then smiled at myself in the mirror.

It took about a week before I was trying a sample of everything that was there, foundation one day, eye shadow another and so on. Mum would look at pictures, I looked at her belongings, both dealing with our loss in different ways.

It was a Sunday afternoon, I was in the house on my own, mum had gone out to see a friend, I had been out for a run and instead of going to my room after my shower, found myself slipping her dressing gown over my shoulders and sitting at her vanity. Maybe being alone, maybe having the robe on, I don't know why but I went further than I ever had before, foundation, eye shadow, mascara, lipstick. I didn't look anything like half decent but it was my connection with her.

I have no idea how long it had taken or how long I had been reminiscing, but I was not really listening for mum coming home. So it was a shock when I realised she was watching me from the door. My immediate reaction was to apologise, not sure what for, but wearing makeup is not conventional for lads. I rushed off to the bathroom and cleaned my face wondering what would happen next. Would she be mad because I somehow desecrated her memory, mad because I was wearing makeup. Eventually I could see no traces left and could stay in the bathroom no longer, so I stepped out and into my room.
'Adam. Come in here please'
Mum was sat in her room going through the makeup.
'sit down please'
A big swallow, ready for the telling off.
'Let me show you how to do it properly shall I?'
I was lost for words, instead of a rant she was applying makeup to my face and explaining what and why she was doing it.
'I'm really sorry, I just come in here to remember and think'
'I know you do, and this is a sort of connection I guess'
I nodded feeling she was ok with this weird situation. She had me blot my lips and then reapply the pink lipstick.
'Not your colour really but I understand why you used it, something a bit darker would be good on you'
This was not the conversation I was expecting.
'Now have you ever tried on a dress?'
Dare I tell her about the nightie?
'I know about the nightie, you forget I go hunting dirty clothes every now and then'
'Sorry' I repeated.
'Don't be. Now its a lovely warm day, how about a loose summer dress?'
Ten minutes later she has got me dressed in a long soft cotton dress, with bra and knickers underneath.
'There how does that feel?'
Could I tell her it feels nice? but I don't get chance, she gives me a hug and I can feel my tears forming and then her tears on my neck. She pulls us back from the tears.
'Let's get a tissue and dry our tears and repair the damage, then you could come and help me make something to eat'
As Adam I never got a look in at the cooking, it always seemed to be a women only area.

Half an hour later, I am sat across the table from her still wearing the dress, having helped make the chicken pasta, and slowly sipping some cold fizzy white wine, I had been told that a beer was wrong when I went to get one out of the fridge. After that I cleared up, mum took the wine into the living room where I joined her to watch a serial we both liked.
'you seem quite comfortable this evening'
It was true, I was more relaxed than I had felt in months 'it's nice just sitting here watching TV with you'
'But we have done that many times before'
'we have' I agreed.
'so if you want do this again then I shall be ok with it'
I looked at her with a puzzled expression on my made up face.
'Maybe buy your own clothes and like I say, a darker lipstick'
I took a long look at her before answering 'and you are sure about me wearing a dress?'
'Maybe not sure, but it is nice to see you relaxed, you do look very pretty, and you have been a great help this evening. So yes if you want to be a girl, it is fine with me'

I got lost in my thoughts considering what had happened, coming to the conclusion that I would like to wear a dress more often, maybe not in memory of my sister, but because I liked how I felt while dressed and I liked how I was getting on with mum now I was in a dress. But maybe wearing my dead sister's clothes is a bit strange, perhaps I shall be online during the week seeing what sort of dress I might like to wear next weekend.

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Comments

I do

sugar_britches63's picture

I do hope this is only a very good start to a longer story.

Charlotte Van Goethem

opinor ergo sum

Charlotte Van Goethem

Sorry to disappoint but it

Sorry to disappoint but it was only ever my intention with this story to get the 'hero' into a dress, nothing more.
If you would like to see the story develop, please feel free to extend it.