I can't remember when I knew I wanted to be a girl. I remember seeing girls in pretty dresses when I was 4 or 5 and wishing I could be pretty like them. I even asked my mum once.

"Can I be a girl mum?"

"Why do you want to be a girl, Simon?" She sounded angry.

"So, I can wear nice dresses like they do."

"Don't be stupid. Boy's don't wear dresses."

I thought then that boys and girls were the same. I thought girls were boys with long hair that wore nice clothes. I learned the difference as I grew older.

When I found out I remembered crying myself to sleep. I knew I'd never be a girl unless I cut my willy off. One of my friends caught his in his zip and screamed and cried until the school nurse helped him. I couldn't cut it off, could I? It would hurt too much. If I did would mum buy me a dress?

As I grew up started to see things on the internet, I realized there was more to it than cutting things off. There were these things called hormones. The girls at school began to change shape. I was so jealous. I just got spotty.

I had a strong feeling that I wanted to see what it felt like to be a girl. My mum and dad went next door for a drink at Christmas. I was upstairs playing on my video game.

"Will you be ok son? We're only next door, we'll be back in an hour."

"Yes dad, I'm fine."

As soon as I heard the door shut, I ran to my parent’s room and opened my mother’s top drawer. I had looked in here before but didn't dare touch. I stared down at the frills and lace. My heart felt like it would jump out of my chest.

I reached for something at the back. I thought if I took stuff underneath, mum wouldn't see that anything had been moved. I found a pair of pink frilly knickers and a white bra. I ran to the window to check no one was coming.

Then went back and closed the drawer. Back in my room I stripped off and put on my "finds". It took me ages to clip the bra straps together. I wanted to adjust the straps but knew she would notice if I did. As I pulled the knickers up my legs, I could feel the lace scratching and tickling as they rose up. This made my heartbeat faster. They felt so soft. I still felt the lace when they were all the way up.

I looked in the mirror. I was a boy in girls’ underwear. I still enjoyed the feeling of being dressed though.

I knew I could be caught at any moment, so went back to my parents’ bedroom. I was just going to take the underwear off when I decided to open my mum's wardrobe.

I saw her old fur coat at the back, and a pair of worn looking heels. Did I have time? I wanted this so bad. Within moments I was in them. The heels made my buttocks feel tight as I walked up and down the room. On the top shelf I saw a hat my mum had worn to my cousin's wedding.

I reached up and settled it on my head. I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror. I saw a girl. No, a woman. At last, I was a woman. I felt so happy I could cry. I didn't want this to end.

I knew the more time I spent like this the more likelihood I would be caught. I hated taking everything off. With the care of a professional spy I replaced every item.

I returned to my room and dressed with only moments to spare. I just re-started my game when I heard the front door open.

I was hooked now. Every chance I could, I would wear whatever I could of my mother's. I was dying to try her tights on. I couldn't because she balled them up. I didn't know how to do that. She would notice.

When I was just a few months away from leaving school things changed. I had sorted some of my old clothes out and took them down to the recycling bin. The bin was overflowing. There were bags on the floor beside it. On the top of one bag there we a pair of ballet flats. My heart raced. What other treasures were inside?

A plan formed. I looked around. A few houses overlooked the containers, but someone would have to be in an upstairs window to see anything.

I "accidentally" spilled all of my old clothes out onto the bag of women's clothes. Then bent down put everything back. What I really did was put most of the contents of the other bag into mine. I made a show of trying to put my clothes in the container. Shook my head and headed home. All that was left of my stuff was a tee-shirt at the top of the bag.

That night by the light of my bedside lamp I quietly looked through my new treasures. I hit the jackpot. There was a white panty-girdle, white sports bra, a few blouses, a red vest top with a lace collar an elasticated pleated skirt, and of course the shoes.

I had almost a complete outfit! I couldn't wait to try it on. It was almost a week until I got the chance. Even then I only had 15 minutes. As I looked in the mirror, I knew I had to do something about my legs and my boobs.

I had stopped cutting my hair months before. Mum was pushing for me to get it cut, but I got away by telling her all the boys were growing theirs out.

I sat my "O" levels and knew I was done with school. Soon I would be job hunting. The problem was the need to be a girl was stronger than ever. I heard once that men think of sex every 20 seconds. That's how I felt about being female. I would fall asleep thinking about it and wake up thinking about it.

I had done a bit of shopping on my way home for my mum and added some tights and a packet of balloons. I took my own shopping upstairs hidden in my coat. I had been planning this for weeks.

I was trembling as I got dressed. I filled two balloons with warm water and used them to create breasts. I gently pulled the tights up my legs. They felt heavenly.

I sat on my bed an applied a small amount of eyeshadow that mum had thrown away. I found it in the bin in the bathroom. I used a red liquorice sweet on my lips. I pinched my cheeks to make them red. I had read that on a history website.

After brushing my hair, I looked at myself in the mirror on my wardrobe. I saw a young woman. I saw me. The real me. This felt so right. I never wanted to go back. Kirsty was here to stay.

Now the hard part. I had to go and tell mum and dad. I saw dad in the living room through the door, he had his head in a newspaper. I quickly walked passed to the kitchen. My mother was washing up.

I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. It felt like my heart was in my throat. I managed to mumble.

"Mummm."

She turned and dropped a cup she was washing.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"This is me mum. Please understand This is who I want to be. Please accept me."

"Accept you! You filthy pervert. You're sick. I can't believe I raised a sick little deviant like you."

"But, but mum please I..."

"Don't mum me. I'm going for a walk. Let your father deal with you. When I come back you better be wearing your own clothes or I'll kick you out of this house."

"Mum, mum I.."

"No! You're no son of mine."

She slapped my face, then walked out of the back door. I heard the garden gate slam. I collapsed to the floor, drawing in big gulps of air as I wailed and sobbed.

The woman that raised me, that fed me, that kissed me better had just discarded me. All the years I thought she loved me unconditionally meant nothing. She hated me.

I felt two hands lift me from the floor. I would have to face my father now. It was going to be worse than my mother.

As he lifted me from the floor I couldn't look him in the face. I cried. His son standing before him dressed as a woman.

He pulled my head to his chest.

"It's ok son. We'll work things out. It'll be ok."

"Please dad, don't hate me. It's just I never wanted to be a boy. I just.."

"Shush son, It's alright. I understand. You are what you are. I will always love you. I will always support you."

"But mum said she.."

"She didn't mean it. She's a good woman your mum. It's something she hates. I never realized until we married, she has a problem with the whole LGBT thing. She has an irrational fear, even hatred for anything that isn't what she sees as normal."

"What am I going to do dad. I want this."

"I can see that. What do you call yourself?"

"Kirsty Dad."

He hugged and kissed me.

"Pleased to meet you Kirsty. I will make sure I take her out more often. I’ll make sure you have time to be Kirsty. If she asks, I'll say I spoke to you and it's just a phase. I know it's not though Kirsty is it?"

"No dad, it's been inside for years. I can't stop it."

"We'll work things out. I have some money put by she doesn't know about. When you turn 18, if you want to move out, I can help. You can be Kirsty whenever you want then."

I hugged him.

"Thanks dad. I thought you would hate me for this."

"Kirsty, I'm old, but I'm not stupid. I suppose I'm the opposite to your mum. I have always thought that people should be allowed to love who they want and dress like they want to. What right does anyone else have to tell anyone else how to live their life?"

"Thanks dad. I know I never say it, but I love you."

"I love you too Kirsty. Just the same as I love Simon. I'll be here for you both. Just come and see me when it gets tough being Simon, and I'll see if I can help. You'll get there in the end Kirsty. I'm sure of it."

"Thanks dad. I better get changed."

"Oh yes. Hide your clothes in the garage. There's an empty box under my toolbox. She's bound to look in your room. If she asks me, I'll say you threw them out."

I went upstairs confused. One thing I knew was that I had the best dad in the world.