from Shelly

Dear Auntie Helga,

I can't tell you how pleased I was to see that you thought that my description of my life as the (unofficial) fifth grade class sissy was interesting enough to be published on your wonderful site. Everything I talked about in that letter involved events that occurred up through Christmas of that year. As I said in that letter, there is a lot more I can write about involving later events during that school year.

You may recall that because I was so small and effeminate I got bullied and teased a lot in fifth grade, and some of the kids, including both girls and boys, made me wear panties every day and then, during the Christmas break, made me begin to wear nighties and other girls sleepwear every night and made me send them pictures to prove I was wearing them. Well, on the first day back at school after the Christmas break, I noticed a lot of the other kids in my class standing around and laughing. As I got closer, I realized they were all looking at the pictures of me in my girly sleepwear, and when they all saw me approaching, the laughter grew even louder, and I felt so humiliated that I almost started to cry, but did manage to hold it together.

Then, when we went to class, the girls put the pictures on our teacher's desk so she could see them too. By then, my teacher, as was the case with my mother, was completely convinced that I had lied about being forced to wear panties and that actually I was wearing panties, and wearing nighties and girls pajamas, because I wanted to. So she just smiled when she saw the pictures and told me that I looked quite cute and pretty and very girlish in that sleepwear. Again, my feelings of shame at that moment were intense as every kid in the class stared at me and laughed.

After that, though, things actually got quite a bit better for me. The other kids all called me "sissy" as if that was my name, and even my teacher referred to me that way every once in a while, but I was quite used to that by then so it didn't bother me very much. For the most part, though, the bullying and teasing didn't happen as much as it had earlier in the school year, so I usually got through the days without crying. The girls who had forced me to wear panties still did bully me a little bit, but not as much as before. The one thing they did, which caused me a lot of embarrassment, was that very soon after returning from Xmas break they told me they would not allow me to get a haircut, or at least, not one that involved getting a more boyish hair style. My hair by then was getting quite long, and even my mother, who liked how I looked with long hair, had started suggesting I at least get a trim, but I told her I couldn't or the bullies would do something to me. My mom thought I was just lying about that, and said it was obvious that I liked having long girlish hair and that she was OK with that, but she wanted me to stop pretending I wasn't such a sissy.

And then, around Valentine's day, the bullies told me that I had to start wearing my hair, which by then was almost down to my shoulders, in either a pony tail or braids, tied with pretty bowed ribbons. I knew I couldn't tell my mother that I was being forced to wear my hair that way, so I just told her that my hair was getting to be a bother and so I wanted to wear it in a pony tail or braids. She again wondered if I wanted to have it cut at least a bit, but I said I'd rather keep it long and in a pony tail, and asked if she could use some pretty ribbons to tie the pony tail or braids. My mom laughed at that and said that it seemed that I was becoming more and more of a sissy as time went on.

The first day I showed up at school with a pony tail held in place with a pretty pink ribbon I got a lot of looks and quite a bit of teasing, and I was in tears by the end of the day, but after a few days of seeing me with my hair like that the other kids got used to seeing me like that and the teasing about my long girlish hair basically stopped. So when I was in school it wasn't that much of a problem for me, but needless to say, if I wore my hair like that in other public places people who didn't know me assumed I was a girl. Even without my hair in a pony tail or braids that happened sometimes, but not nearly as much, so as soon as I left school I would remove the ribbons and take out the braids or pony tail.

But then, one day at school one of the girls said she had seen me at a store downtown and had seen that I wasn't wearing my hair the way she and the other bullies had told me to, and she said if they ever saw me out in public again without ribbons in my hair that they would punish me. So after that I had to tell my mother that I wanted to wear my hair in girlish styles with ribbons and barrettes all the time, not just when I went to school. My mom said that was fine with her and that she had been surprised that I wasn't doing that already because it was obvious that I liked having girlish-looking hair. But the funny thing is that in some ways it was easier having everyone in public think I was a girl than when I looked like a sissy boy, so it all wasn't that bad.

At that point, the biggest problem I had was that at school the girls and boys almost always played separately and ate lunch at different tables, and when I played with the boys, I often ended up getting hurt because I was so small and because they played such rough games. As a result at recess I played mostly with the girls and even ate lunch with the girls at the girls table. That was fine, and I learned a lot about being a girl and about what girls talked about, which was a lot about clothes and hair and girls parties and girls TV shows. But they also talked about boys sometimes, which did get sort of embarrassing for me because that was when they would often tease me by laughingly asking me which boys I thought were the cutest and that kind of thing.

The worst part, though, was PE class. We had PE twice each week, and the boys and girls had separate classes, and during the boys PE classes they played rough sports, and the problem was that I would get hurt, usually ending up crying from being bruised or getting a bloody nose. After a couple of months of that happening, my mother talked with the teacher and it was decided that I would do PE with the girls. The girls did some sports during PE too, but much more gentle ones so it was thought that would be a lot better for me. At first I really didn't want to do that, but after a couple of more days of getting hurt during PE with the boys I agreed that was the best thing for me to do. What I didn't realize, though, was that if I was going to do PE with the girls I had to wear the same PE uniform as the girls, but luckily it was pretty similar to something a boy might wear, just shorts and a t-shirt, although the t-shirt was pink and the shorts were very short.

But the truth is that when I was wearing that and with my hair in braids, I basically fit right in as one of the girls and the gym teacher and the girls treated me as if I really was a girl. But then, during the last six weeks of the term, while the boys played rugby in PE class, the girls did ballet. So that meant a very different PE uniform, a pink leotard, while tights, and pink ballet slippers. I asked if I could wear something different or skip the ballet classes, but the teacher said no, so I had to ask my mother to buy me a leotard and tights and ballet slippers and even a tutu because there were a couple of classes when we all had to wear one.

In your reply to my earlier letter you noted that this experience seemed to have had a big impact on my life, given that I now, as an adult, have a fascination with petticoating. You're certainly correct, but I sometimes wonder if maybe I had that in me all along and being treated as the class sissy that year mainly brought to the surface some feelings that were already there. Of course, what happened that year also had a big effect by convincing my mother that I was a real sissy at heart and that led to some later petticoating experiences as well. For instance, on my thirteenth birthday, one of the presents my mom got me was a padded bra! Wow, did that ever make things different for me, but I don't want to bore you with too much about that in a letter about my class sissy year.

Hope all is well.


How nice to hear from you and thank you for writing again Shelly. Even though school can be a difficult period for children, especially those like you, you seem to have weathered it well and grown from the experience. I know my readers would be interested in hearing more about your mother's acceptance of your sissy tendencies.

Auntie Helga

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Letter 10