For My Son’s Sake

Author's note: This is based on the news story out of Germany of a man who decided to wear skirts because his son enjoyed them. Let me know what you think of it, okay?

It started when my son was still a toddler. He developed a fascination with women’s clothes, especially dresses and skirts, and soon started asking to wear one.

After some thinking, I got him skirts and dresses, and he seemed very happy in them.

Of course, I knew he would get teased if he went out like that, so I did the most crazy thing any father ever did for a son - I bought matching skirts and dresses for me.

I never had any interest in being a girl, or wearing their clothes, but for my son’s sake I plunged head-first into the fem side of the street, daring to go out with him in matching skirts.

Then my son decided to take another step toward femininity when he decided to paint his nails, and of course he wanted me to join in with this as well.

I shrugged, bought nail polish, and soon our fingers were painted the brightest, most girly colors imaginable.

And then he decided to do his toes too, and of course once they were done he wanted the kind of shoes that would showcase his pretty feet, so off we went to the shoe store, and I got used to wearing flat sandals whenever we went out together.

By this point a lot of people started to wonder about me, but I explained as patiently as I could that I was just trying to be the kind of Dad my son needed, and if that meant I wore girl’s clothes, then so be it. So when my son wanted to add blouses to his closet, there wasnt any question that I would be getting some for mine at the same time.

Eventually, I got used to my new wardrobe, and even kind of enjoyed it, especially as the fuss seemed to die down and people got used to us.

Then my son got a little older, and wanted pierced ears, and wanted to wear makeup as well.

I talked him into accepting just wearing lip gloss, and studs, and soon we were a matched pair again, and the happy glow in his face was worth the momentary pain of getting my ears done, or the strange taste of gloss on my lips.

I have no idea what will happen when my son hits puberty. He could leave all this girlishness behind, embrace a male identity, and never wear girl clothes again. He could be a crossdresser, a nice, normal boy who has a feminine side that the right girl might really appreciate. Or he may want to go further, want to feminize his body as he has his wardrobe and end up getting sexual reassignment surgery.

But whatever his choice is, I’ve decided that I will walk with him all the way, even if it means I live the rest of my life as a woman.

For my son’s sake, it will be worth it.