Changing from tomboy to girly girl.

After that date when he confessed he hated what I wore I had time to think. Part of me was angry, the other part felt loved. We must of spent hours talking on the phone about it. This was his take:

He said that although I probably won't admit it I am vunerable. I have been hurt in the past and I need protecting. He is desperate to protect me. He wants to guide me and lead me. He wants to take away all my problems. He wants to protect me from the world. He touched on work and said he didn't like me there because a lot of the male colleagues were very poor role models and a bad influence. He wanted me to have a dependancy on him.

He asked what I thought of a man wearing womens clothes. Did this turn me on? Of course not!. He said it was a direct comparsion but when a woman wears trousers and trainers it takes away the femine aspect of a woman. He said all this might appear sexist but its not. For John he wants to be the protector of me which feels lovely.

Another area John talked about was letting go. He said he once observed me playing with the salt and pepper pot at a cafe when he was paying. How embarrasing I thought but I do tend to do silly things. He said he was to nuture this. He said I have an inner child in me that has never gone away and that I should never hide it away as when its out I am at my most innocent. I thought that was a nice comment but didn't really understand it. He explained I don't like responsibility and with him he would be responsible for me.

He then struck a chord. He talked about when my mum use to make me wear skirts or dresses when we went out as a family. When I became an adult I had never learnt to accept normal girls or womens clothes. John would now have to treat me in a child like way and make me wear feminine clothes. Boy I was confused.

Back to the topic. John had agreed to take me shopping. A first for me, my past boyfriends hated shopping and I didn't like it much either. He even told me the night before what to wear. I was to wear a pair of jeans which seemed strange and a pair of shoes and a blouse of my choice. He made no comment about underwear luckily.

He picked me up and we drove off, me expecting to go the the nearest shopping centre but he headed off in the opposite direction. I asked where he was taking me and he said "Wait and see princess". Princess? This was the first time he called me princess. I smiled in accpetance. It felt okay him saying it.

After what seemed ages we arrived in a market town I use to visit occasionally when I was younger as my Aunt lived there. It had all the usual high street shops together with some independent shops. So after parking the car he led me away and the first shop was M&S. How predictable I thought. John then suprised me by saying he just wanted to buy some cufflinks. He knew what he wanted and put them in the basket. We then wondered over to the dreaded hosiery section. I tried to look interested and was actually surprised about the selection. Not that I was choosing. He picked off a multi pack of 60 denier opaque brown tights and put them straight in the basket without consulting me. He then bought himself some other stuff, a tie from memory. At least he only bought one pack of tights for me. He paid and we decided to have a coffee in the shop. I thought this a little strange as we had only got there.

As we sat down, he told me to go the toilet to put on my tights under my jeans. Why I thought and asked!. Simple he said. I would be trying on lots of skirts and dresses today so needed to be wearing them. Can't I try them on bare legged if I am just trying them? I then sensed a little annoyance in his tone. Just put them on he said, they are just  a normal part of a womans wardrobe. Go on.

I was told! I got up a little reluctant and went into the toilets. I went into the cubicle and sat down. I undid my jeans and lowered them down. I was wearing charlie brown socks! Funny what you remember. I took them off and opened the pack of tights. 60 denier. I thought they were too thick and I would start to get too hot, especially shopping all day. I had agreed though so I gathered the one leg up and slowly began to peel it back onto my leg. Suddenly all the thoughts of my childhood came back to me. What was I doing? I continued and gathered the other leg up and stepped into them. I rolled them up and watched my legs being covered in brown denier. I felt uncomortable when they reached my waist. Then I thought, come on, they are only tights, what's the big deal and John will be happy. I still felt sorry for myself though. Anyway I whipped on my jeans and shoes and went back out.

As I walked back to the table John could now see I was wearing tights. His eyes wandered down to my shoes. "See that wasn't that bad was it?". I explained my concerns but they were dismissed. He even asked me to hand over my lovely charlie brown socks, apparently to avoid tempation. He stuffed them into his bag. Come on then princess, lets go shopping.

We first entered a traditional womens boutique. It was quite a nice shop, with plenty of choice, mainly the dressier end. Its a shop I would have never walked into. The shop assistant was mid 40's and smiled. She put on a fake smile and muttered something about helping us if we needed it. John went to over to evening dresses. I stoold there looking a bit dum, thinking shouldn't this be the other way around? Not long after John pulled out a evening beaded cocktail dress and put it towards my front. I looked in horror. I can't wear that. He seemed to ignore me and told me to try it. I complained again and gave him a child like look. He just pointed to the changing room and told me not be silly. I huffed a bit and went to change.

I hated it. I never liked dresses. I hated the restriction, the look, the feel just everything. Well its a compromise I thought. If I agree on 1 dress he may back off. I took my jeans off for a second time. I took of my top and changed into the dress. It was a silk dress and well very dressey. It was royal blue in colour, very floaty and had a chiffon style neckline. I looked at myself in the mirror. Clearly the tights didn't match. I looked uncomfortable.

The shop has seats arranged outside the changing rooms so you could parade to your partner. I nervously stepped out for approval. Johns eyes turned into goldfish bowls. His whole face lit up. "My god princess, the change is amazing. You look 1000 dollars. You can see now why jeans and t-shirts just don't work." I continued to stand there while he commented on my change. It felt nice in a way, but I didn't like the dress and didn't like been told what to wear. He didn't ask my opinion why upset me.

I changed back into my jeans, very tempted to take off my tights at this stage but resisted. I pulled back the curtain and John grabbed the dress and took it the till.

We then went into a high street shop to try on some skirts. I paid a little more interest in the skirts than the dress. Not that John seemed to listen to my choices. I must admit he had a good eye for detail, better for me, quickly grabbing skirts from the rack and putting them against me and deciding. He eventually selected 3 skirts and directed me to the changing rooms. I showed the girl the skirts and she handed me a token. Off came the jeans again and I slipped the first skirt on each, a flared brown knee lenght skirt. I popped out the changing room and walked towards John. He approved and I went back. This went on again and I tried on a layered skirt which John approved on again. I then tried on pencil skirt and by now just wanted John to approve but I could see he didn't like the pencil skirt.

Finially I got out and he purchased the two skirts and put the pencil skirt back. Off we went again. We then went back to M&S and he picked out some "work skirts" which filled with me horror.  I hated people noticing something different about me. This really would get the tongues wagging. Anyway John had decided and I tried on another 4 skirts of which he purchased 3.

We then back to the hoisery section at which point I asked if I could get some leggings. No was the blunt answer. He literally chose loads of tights and also 3 pairs of hold ups. I had never worn holdups before. We then went to choose some tops. He picked out a floral print blouse, a woven ruffle blouse and another layered type blouse.

You may be wondering how I remember all this. Well this is a direct copy from my diary, but the day is still as clear in my mind now as it were yesterday.

All this had taken ages but John hadn't finished. He could see I was wearing thin but wanted me to try on some shoes. I pursuaded him to stay in the same shop. I tried on 2 pairs ballet pump style shoes. Both pairs had the bow style on. He seemed happy so he bought them. When he paid I had wondered off to the exit. Actually I was looking at a watch. He waved to me and walked over. "I want you to put this skirt and blouse on with the shoes I have bought for. I had a word with the changing room assistant. You can change now." I tried to talk him out it but I felt guilty afterall he had bought all the clothes. I went back in slipped my comfortable jeans off and put the layered skirt on, then the blouse and shoes. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt a bit upset. What was I doing? I thought I look unhappy John may change his mind.

I don't think he noticed my expression when I walked out. His eyes went wide again and he commented on how lovely I looked. We walked back to the car with his compliments continuing. He carefully put all the bags in the boot and got in. "We are not finished yet, I am taking you for lunch". He could see I had tears in my eyes now. He got in the car and asked the reason for the tears.

I explained it felt like going back to a child, being told and made to wear clothes I disliked. He then told me to close my eyes, which I did. He then put my hands on my knees. He then slightly tilted my head to each his and kissed me. Wow it felt wonderful. We had kissed before but not like this. I felt wonderful. He then said, as a plain as day "I love you". That was the first time he said it. He repeated what he had said about how jeans don't work for me and how great I looked in a skirt or blouse.

Then the serious words came out. He told me from now on every time we date I was to wear a skirt or dress and always with tights. He said that meant for work as well. I asked why can't I go bare legged. His answer was mixed. He said he didn't like other men looking at my bare legs, for his eyes only and that tights were just a normal but feminine part of a girls wardrobe. He said he appreicated it was a big move but insisted in no time at all I would forget I was wearing them or a skirt, it would become normal.

So this was the start of my long journey from a tomboy to a feminine girl. Pleasing a man is not as easy as I had thought.

Have I always been a tomboy?

If I answer my own question the answer is yes. Let me explain. I grew up with an older brother and did my best to keep up with him. That meant climbing trees, playing football, helping dad in the garage. I actually did not see any difference between girls and boys.

Looking back now I could see my mother was disappointed but at the time she never said anything. I never showed any interest in clothes and my mother chose all my clothes. I do remember having to wear a dress on certain occasions. We always went out for a family meal of my father's birthday and mother always bought me a new dress. She loved dressing me, putting my hair to a fussy style usually with a ribbon or bow. I did feel uncomfortable and did have a few tantrums as kids do but she always stayed firm. When she finished dressing me she would call dad into my room for an inspection. He always complimented me and hugged me tightly. This was one of the first times I recall that girls had to dress up to please the opposite sex!

I had to wear a skirt for school, but as all the other girls wore one I didn't really complain that much.

When I was about 8 I went to my first pony club and loved it. My parents could of never afforded to buy me a pony but they did pay for me to have a weekly lesson which I loved. The one down side to this was that my mother was desperate for me to start dancing. She had danced as a child and signed me up for Irish dancing lessons.

Although I didn't like dancing I was quite good. I would never of deliberately been bad at dancing, even as a child. My mother would of known straight away if wasn't putting in any effort. I hated the costumes. As you can imagine they were very girly but just had to put up with it. I couldn't wait to take them off. The opposite of going to the pony club, I loved wear jodhpurs.

Anyway although I was a tomboy most of the time I was made to go dancing and wear girly clothes. I continued with both dancing and pony club and then horse riding for most of my childhood. When I wasn't dancing or horse riding I just wore jeans or shorts around the house. In the school week I wasn't allowed to change out of my school uniform. Mum would go mad saying it create  more washing and ironing. My brother had the same rule as well.

So although I hated dresses and skirts and the rest of the accesories that go with it I did have to wear girly clothes at times. Not by choice though.

When I moved to high school the uniform was very strict. It was still a skirt, but a blazer as well and the skirt had to fall on the knee. It you wore it too short you would get sent home. Not that I ever wanted to wear my skirt short.

Wearing a school uniform didn't really bother me. Everyone had to wear one so it was no problem. The uniform had the option of knee socks or tights in the winter and ankle socks in the summer term. I hated wearing tights. I had to wear tights sometimes for dancing and mum always made me wear them when we went out for family meals. Whenever my mum made me wear tights it would always end up in a row.

As more girls started to wear tights I thought I would have to start wearing them soon, simply to fit in. I suggested it to my mum expecting her to be pleased. How wrong was I! She said tights were a privelage and that I would have to continue to wear knee socks to school. She was pleased that I had accepted I had to wear tights but the school uniform was not a fashion statement. I think she was getting back at me for all those arguments we had had. To make matters worse she said that I should wear a skirt and tights all weekend now that I had finially given up my tomboy days. I hadn't! All I wanted to do was wear tights to school, I still hated wearing them. The whole thing had back fired. I didn't wear a skirt and tights that weekend and mum couldn't stop teasing me about how I had gone about wearing them.

There are lots of other silly stories about my childhood I will share when I get chance. When I left school I ditched the skirts and lived in jeans and trousers. I had given up dancing as well and turned back into a die hard tomboy. I loved my jeans and t-shirts and jumpers. I suppose I used those clothes to hide away. I was and I not very confident and the thought of wearing skimpy dresses or skirts horrified me. I looked a mess but I didn't draw attention to myself. Perhaps it all comes down to confidence? Perhaps!