Are you my sister?

Some people simply do not know how to think of others and treat them with respect and the love they deserve. Some people can treat others like dirt and then destroy their lives. I think they should be put in Hell. That’s what happened to my sister Kylie that was 2 years younger than me. She was 9 and is the best sister anyone can wish for. She was always cheerful and didn’t bug me that much. She liked playing my games like Grand Auto Theft on PlayStation and football. This was until she was 9. My dad started abusing her and by making her get naked and other stuff. Of course, we did not know this until he raped her. That must have hurt, so she told Mum. Mum loved dad but she also protected us. To make a long story short, the police were called, dad was arrested and after a trial, he was put in jail. That is good. But then people think it’s all over. However, it is not. People do not realise the media has given our family a reputation. My mother could not look people straight in the eyes. She decided we had to get out of town. But it would be a few months before we could move.

The big problem was Kylie. Imagine that she had to sleep in the same room where her body was violated. Kylie was now a quiet sister that hardly said a word. She would spend all her time drawing pictures that were very black or she would look at some magazines with horses. It was as if she was afraid of the world and locked herself in her own world. A few days after the trial, she started wetting her bed. This was very embarrassing and deep down I knew I would have teased her, but after all she has gone through; I decide to ignore the bedwetting and quietly helped her take the wet sheets to be washed. Kylie never said a word to me. Mum quickly got tired of it. She tried with rubber sheets and then after another week of this and no change, Kylie was put in diapers at night. This must have been a devastating development for Kylie, whose life has been turned upside down in the past few months.

So that was life after Dad was thrown behind bars. It did not become better. It was worse. Kylie did not have to endure his abuse, but she still had the experience in her mind. She isolated herself, acted more like a baby; even wet the bed with diapers on. The worse thing for me was that she never smiled or said a word. If I came into the room, she would look down and even seemed to shake at times when she saw me. She would not be anywhere near me. At first, I was mad at her, but then I understood that she had a bad experience with a man, and was obviously afraid of boys. What could I do that she now hated men and boys? What could I do when she started wetting herself? I wanted to help but just did not know.

We were eating breakfast on a Saturday morning. Kylie started to speak which both shocked Mum and me, after weeks of silence. She told us that she no longer wanted to sleep in her bedroom as it gave her nightmares. Mum was a bit confused and did not know what to say, while I jumped in and said that she can have my room and I will move to her room. This made Kylie smile a bit, but her face went serious again when she said that she did not want her bed in the house. I could see that Mum was in a panic and didn’t know what to say. She tried explaining that a new bed cost too much and she had no money because we were moving soon. She mentioned that the only thing she had was the old crib in the basement. I looked at Kylie and understood what she was thinking. She did not want her room as it reminded her of her the abuse she experienced, and she did not want to look at the bed where it happened. If Kylie was forced to sleep in a crib, then it would be another setback for her. I told my Mum that I will have Kylie's room and as I cleared my throat, I said that Kylie can sleep in my bed and I can sleep in the crib until we had money for a new bed. Mum smiled and said it would work as I was extremely small for my age, but she reminded me that Kylie’s room had girl colours and was a girl’s bedroom. I nodded.

That night, I got ready for bed and then was about to get in the crib. Of course, I did not know how to get over the edge. Mum reminded me to go to the toilet first because she was not getting up in the middle of the night. I smiled and said I don’t need to go to the toilet. Mum smiled as she lifted me in the crib, saying it was good that I was small for my age. Soon I was quiet in my new room. I looked around and thought this was the strangest day in my life. Here I was in a crib with bars and in a pink room! I nearly lost my breath as I thought about this and wondered if I was now crazy or insane. But deep down I knew that I was doing this for my sister.

The next morning I woke up. I was a bit surprised at first as I could not get out of bed. It was like I was in a cage. Then I remembered it was a crib.  I smiled for a few seconds until I realised that I felt a bit uncomfortable. I couldn’t believe it. I was wet. I peed while I slept. It was the first time I did it in many years. At first, I was mad, then I was confused and when Mum came in to lift me out of bed, I was embarrassed and I could feel the tears coming to my eyes. Mummy smiled and said let’s get changed. She tried to calm me down by saying it could be because I slept in the crib and my mind was playing tricks with me. I figured this must be the case, as I could not think of any other reason. At breakfast time, I felt a lot better because at breakfast Kylie said that she never slept so well that she did that night. She had no bad dreams. She still wet the bed but smiled when I said that I did too, and reminded me that I was much older.

That night and the next few times, the same thing happened. I slept in the crib and woke up wet. I didn’t understand why as I did go to the toilet before and no matter what I tried, I ended up wet. A few days after it started, I was crying because it was so embarrassing. Mum told me it would change when we moved and she had money for a big bed for me. After a week, she sat me down on the bed. She showed me a bag of diapers and before I could yell, she begged me not to get mad. She explained that she was stressed and worried about Kylie. She explained then that my current wetting was also worrying her, but she could only deal with so much. She knew that I would get better. She explained that I would get better and until then, I would wear diapers at night to save her from washing so much. I wanted to say no way on earth… but I knew that Mum was having a hard time and I just gave her a hug hoping that my wetting problems would end soon. I then noticed that the diapers were the same that Kylie wore. Not only would I be wearing diapers, I would be wearing girl diapers. Mum realised that I was looking and said with a smile, “Kylie hates boys and men. Maybe she will like you better and feel more comfortable that you wear the same as her.” It then hit me…. The fact that I was a boy made Kylie afraid. That is why she was so afraid of me. 

This thought was with me for a few days. Mums words were in my head as I realised that my sister was quiet when I was around and looked even afraid. One night, Kylie smiled as she realised that the diapers I was wearing were the same as hers… girl diapers. I felt a tear coming to my eye, as I knew that I missed my sister. The problem was that she would be so happy and feel safe if I was a girl. I remember that night that I prayed to God that I would wake up as a girl. It did not happen. The next morning I was still a boy. I thought how my sister would be friends with me again. I thought about how I could get my sister back all day at school. I thought I would try an experiment at home. Although Kylie was 2 years younger than me, we were about the same size. When I came home, I snuck into her bedroom and took a pair of her jeans. They had little ponies on them and some rainbows. I put them on and a t-shirt that had the Barbie logo on it. I looked in the mirror and smiled. I looked like a tomboy. I suppose if I should let my hair grow. It was already thick and it grew quickly. I slapped myself across the face. What was I thinking about? I am not going to be a girl! However, when I had the courage to go down to my sister, I could see that she smiled and was just like she was in the olden days.

The next day, I did the same. I wore a pink tracksuit that Kylie had. I walked down to Kylie and she was once again smiling. She was talking about school and saying the clothes looked nice on me. This went on for a few weeks, and we could see that Kylie was much happier. Mum never said a word about it. After a few weeks, I came down wearing the pink tracksuit I wore at the start. Kyle was telling me how she was taller than I was now.  This made me a bit sad as I did not know why I was so small. Kylie didn’t notice my reaction and stood up and started to brush my hair. Mum mentioned that she did not realise that it was so long that it could be in a ponytail. I gasped as I realised that it was so long and the fact that Kylie was putting it in a ponytail. Mum said it should be cut, but Kylie shouted at the top of her voice, “no way”. That sort of put an end to that discussion. Mum just looked down in the magazine she was reading. Kylie was just chattering about how she wanted to get earrings. Mum said she didn’t have time. I said that I would help her tomorrow after school. I do not know why I agreed to help her. I just liked the fact she was not afraid of me anymore and seemed happy. Just before I told her I was going to do my homework, my sister looked at me seriously and told me I should wear panties tomorrow. I was about to get mad at her thinking that I would be in school, and no way was I going to wear panties. Then I saw the look on her face and did not want her to go back to be afraid of me. I smiled as she said she already put some in my drawer, as mum just bought her new ones.

As I walked out, Kylie asked me, “Are you my sister now”. I politely told her no, we were just playing a game. Kylie's smile disappeared but as I walked out, I could see Mum smiling. Maybe I went too far with this dressing up as a girl. But to be honest, Kylie was happy again and besides that, I liked dressing up. It was weird to do it but in a way it was fun.

So the next day, I had panties on at school. I was very conscious of it. I mean, how many boys wear girl’s panties? Still, I must admit that they felt very comfortable and they were beautiful. I was already getting teased that my hair was long, so the fact that I was wearing panties would not matter… if they knew. After school, Kylie met me outside the school. She was all happy and excited. All her friends were saying it was about time to get their ears pierced.

We came to the shop where it was done. I thought Kylie was brave, as getting holes in the ear must have been painful. However, she just smiled as the woman did it. Afterwards she looked in the mirror with a proud face at the studs in her ears. Then the woman asked Kylie if her big sister wanted to get pierced ears? Kylie smiled and said yes while the woman explained that I was old enough to stop being a tomboy. I don’t know why I froze. I wanted to tell her I was a boy. My mind was in turmoil as I realized that she said I looked like a tomboy. Before I knew it I was in the chair. My mouth was frozen and within a few minutes, I had two studs in my ears. Kylie was smiling the rest of the day. When I came home, Mum was admiring Kylie’s studs. Then she noticed I had them too. I tried explaining to Mum but she was right when she told me it was my fault, the fact was that I let the woman do it.

After that, I was looking in the mirror. A girl was looking back at me. I never realised how girlish my face looked. The fact that my hair was long now didn’t make me look any more masculine. Now I also had earrings… in both ears. I could see my mouth opening as I realised that they would tease me more at school. Having two earrings meant that I wanted a boyfriend. This thought went through my head that night as I was thinking which boy was cute and which boy was not cute. It was right what I predicted. I was teased nonstop at school. Many asked me if I was a girl. I got mad at them, but somehow I did not punch them like I would have done a few months ago.  In a way they were right. I wore girl clothes and wore them more and more. Only if they knew that I wore panties and tights at school. I accepted being teased as a punishment for being such a sissy. I looked at the bright side; they would really tease me if they knew what I wore at night time….. diapers… girl’s diapers. Meanwhile, at home, I was wearing Kylie’s clothes all the time. They were no longer what I considered half ways unisex. They were now skirts and dresses like blouses, camisoles and even miniskirts. Kylie loved putting my hair in pigtails and ponytails. She smiled every time she came into my room with some clothes I could try on the next day. They were getting too small for her. That was extremely embarrassing, that my younger sister was now taller than me. Life changed completely to what it was when I first started doing it. Kylie was once again smiling. As for Mum, she must have been worried. However, she never let on. She didn’t even ask me why I wore skirts and dresses. She most likely thought it was a phase. She must have been happy that Kylie was once again smiling.

A few weeks went. Mum just found a house in a town someplace in the middle of nowhere. We would soon be starting a new school where no one knew us. However, the last days of my life in this school were hell. It happened one day while we were on the playground. Some boys were talking about what they have seen on TV the day before. Then they asked me what I saw, and I explained it was “Dora the Explorer”. They all started laughing and teased me that I was watching a program that only little girls see. I tried to explain that it was because Kylie was seeing it, which was a lie. However, things got worse when I suddenly felt a warm feeling going down my legs. Everyone was laughing and when I looked down I realised that I wet myself. I peed in my trousers. When I came home and told Mummy, she just said that it was an accident. It could be the stress of moving.
The situation did not change. It got worse. The first few days went I had an accident. Lucky enough they were mostly at home. However, the accidents happened more. After a few weeks, I was having accidents all the time. Socially, it meant that no one at school wanted to associate themselves with me. I had no friends left. I was also worried. A few months ago, I was totally fine. Now every time I felt I had to go to the toilet, I could not reach the toilet on time. I was now a piss pant and that worried me. Mum was also worried and took me to the doctor. After he prodded me and felt me in places all over me, he said he had to speak with Mum alone. On the way home Mum ran into the shop and came back with two bags. I noticed that they were white and pink. I didn’t think more about it but kept wondering what the doctor said. Mum tried to explain that the doctor said that my bladder was weak. Mum mentioned quickly that he said we could take some precautions to make it less embarrassing. It didn’t help when she said this, that I felt myself going wet. I went red in the face. Kylie looked at me and smiled. At least she did not tease.

When we came home, mum told me to go into the bedroom. I told her that I should get some dry clothes on first; however she said that I should come in to her room and get changed there. I went into her room and she told me to lie on the bed. I started protesting and she just told me to be quiet. I continued protesting and she took one of the pink bags that she bought that day. She took out a package. I screamed when I saw it. It was a bag of diapers that I wore at night-time. I started crying, something I did not expect to do when I was 11 years old. Then I started having a tantrum while Mum was trying to explain that I would be wearing diapers all the time. I was against this idea and started kicking. However Mum slapped my bum and put a pink and white pacifier in my mouth. She put it back in my mouth when I spit it out and gave me a stern look. She explained that I have to wear these because it was more embarrassing having wet clothes. I tried to tell her they didn’t have to wear girl diapers. I thought that everyone would tease me for having such a big bum. Mums surprises were not over. She took the other bag and took out a night dress. It was white with a pink heart that said “little sister”. I was about to protest, but how could I? I have been wearing girl’s clothes for the last month or so. What difference would a nightdress make? I just continued to suck on my new pacifier.

So the last week of school meant that I was wearing a diaper at school. At first, no one seemed to notice. I was still being teased about my hair, and earrings and the fact that I wet myself. However, they could no longer see that I wet myself. I was very careful to wear baggy clothes, and careful when I walked, as the diapers made a noise all the time. At home, Mum would change me, and my sister soon changed me when mum was doing something else. I would wear my sister’s old clothes except at school, where I wore my old boy clothes.

Two days before we moved, my sister was playing with my hair by putting it in pigtails. She asked if I was her sister now. This was the second time that she asked this. I thought about my life. What started as a joke now changed my life. I was regressed to being a baby that wore diapers. I even noticed that I had the pacifier in my mouth all the time at home. I wore boy clothes at school, but if you looked at me, I looked like a tomboy. At home, I would wear my sister’s old clothes. To be honest I loved wearing these clothes. I loved wearing the bright colours, especially white and pink. I also liked yellow clothes, especially the dress with the power puff girls. I looked like a girl and I was living like a girl, especially at home. However, I knew what was between my legs. I tried to convince myself that I was doing this for my sister. She has been happy since I started acting like a girl. What would happen if I started being a boy again and acting like a boy? That was my reasoning in any case. Deep down I was worried that I did not want to be like a boy again. I took the pacifier out of my mouth and told my sister I was still her brother. The smile disappeared from her face and she went to her room.

The next night, Mum was changing my diaper. After that, she sat me on her dressing table chair. She was putting ribbons in my hair.

“It’s time we have a talk. I am not blind. I have noticed what you are doing. You have basically become a sissy at home,” Mum started to say.

“I can explain… err… you never got mad”

“That is because I know you started doing this to make your sister happy again. She is afraid of boys and men and she hates them. I didn’t say anything as I thought it was cute that you wanted to help her. But now, I think it’s gone beyond helping her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Kylie was happy when you just wore her jeans, and leggings, and t-shirts. Now, look at you. You now wear dresses, skirts pampers. You are interested in jewellery. This goes beyond than just helping your sister.”

“I suppose you are right…. So you think I am a sissy?”

“I think the right word is transgender. A transgender is a boy that feels that he is a girl trapped in a boy’s body. The thing is what we will do about it. We could spend a lot of money on a doctor that you can speak with.”

“I don’t want to speak with a shrink and talk to him about that I wear dresses and things. Besides if anyone should see a shrink, it should be Kylie after what she experienced with daddy. We do not have enough money for both of us.”

“I thought about that too. What I need to know is are you a sissy or just pleasing your sister. I need to know how you feel. I need you to be honest.”

“As you said, it started to please Kylie. However, I do love wearing her clothes. I love wearing tights and skirts and dresses. I love the colours. I even like her toys. I have some of her dolls in my room. I do not know if I am a girl in a boy’s body. I suppose I am a sissy.”

“We also have to remember,” Mum continued, “That you are now also wearing diapers. You sleep in a crib. You even have started using a pacifier. What’s next, a baby bottle?”

“Uhmm, the last few nights, Kylie came in with a bottle and I used it”

“A Babies bottle? Why did you not just say no?”

“I didn’t think about saying no. It was nice of her and relaxing. And no one can see me.”

“I understand. The same reason you only wear dresses at home. No one can see you but you feel comfortable. If I was to say this straight out, it seems that you are comfortable being a toddler girl. It’s a mix of being a transgender and being regressed, in other words acting younger than you are. Most mothers would panic, and look down at you and call you names. They would want to lock you in a padded room. They would hate you and not think you are normal”

“I don’t want you to hate me Mummy; I will wear boy’s clothes again. I will be normal”

“I will always love you! The fact is that this could be a phase you are going through. It could also be who you are. As a Mother, I will support you. I will let you explore and experience. I have been thinking about this. And I have done a lot of research to where we should move. It means our life will change. I want to tell you about this.”

“OK”

“When we move, we will be moving to a place where lots of people have changed their identities. Some from husbands that abused members of the family, others from the law, or other like us, that need to start over. You will have a new ID and a new name. In fact, you will be known as a girl… A girl that has bladder problems and is pretty much like a toddler.”

“They will tease me. You do not know how much I have been teased at school”

“Of course I know. A mother is not blind. The thing here is that in this town, there is a huge amount of respect and tolerance. I can tell you, that you will not be the only sissy there. You will not be the only one that wears diapers and acts like a baby. The thing is people will not know if you are really a boy. They will not care. The people I spoke to say it is your heart and mind that counts. The same will happen with Kylie. They will not care if she was molested or not. They will not tease her like she experiences now.”

“This place sounds weird. I mean how can it even exist?”

“It’s a private area. I thought it was a sect. but it is a group of people that wanted to make the ideal town. I even had to be interviewed so we can live there.”

“So I will be a girl?”

“Yes. I have bought new clothes for you, and many of Kylie’s clothes fit you. You will live as a girl. I think you should even try dancing or gymnastics. Your room will be a girl’s room. In fact, it will be like a nursery, as deep down I think you want to continue sleeping in a crib”

“I feel comfortable in a crib now. I feel safe.”

“So what do you think, as, from tomorrow, everyone will think you are a girl that has not grown up and still acts like a toddler?”

“What happens when I decide I want to be a boy again?”

“This phase might last for a while. When the time comes that you have decided who you are, then we can discuss that”

That must have been the strangest discussion any family ever had. We didn’t sleep well that night, as we knew the next day would be moving. Even when Kylie came in with a bottle, I was thinking about things. I admitted to my mother that I was a baby sissy. Her answer was that I will now live as a girl. How crazy was that?

The new house was a traditional house, with a nice garden. It took us a week to move in. It was funny that the neighbours also wanted to help. They were very nice. I, of course, was now dressed like a girl in public. At first, I thought a lot about the fact that I was a sissy pretending to be a girl. I felt guilty that we were receiving all the people. I think that is why I stayed at the house for a long time at the start. It was hard getting used to. All my boy clothes and toys were gone. My bedroom was a nursery... a girl’s nursery. My clothes were the same as any 5 years old would wear. They made me look like a little girl, and being so small did not help. At the same time, I thought they were very pretty. So from the day we moved, I looked like a girl and played like a girl. After a few weeks, I did not even notice the difference. I think my mind was slowly adjusted. I was very aware of what was pretty and what was not pretty. Usually, these things were pink.

Kylie treated me like as if I was her little sister. She also considered me a baby. When we moved in, she suggested that I should have a high chair. At first, Mum thought it was a joke as did I. However a few weeks later I was in a highchair. I suppose you can say I was now a baby sissy. I would wake up in the morning as wet as could be. I would wait until someone took me out of the crib. If I waited too long, I would feel tears coming out of my eyes. I would end up crying to Mum came in, lifting me out and stopping my tears by giving me a bottle or a pacifier. Of course, the pacifier ended in my mouth all day. I even started to lisp when I spoke. I would love if Mum put me in a dress or skirt. I loved the feeling when she put tights on me. I would be disappointed if she put leggings or jeans on me. I didn’t mind shorts, as long as they were white or pink. I loved when Kylie put my hair in a ponytail or pigtails, especially when she put hairpins or ribbons in my hair. During the day I would play with dolls and draw. I would help Mum clean and cook. I was afraid at the start to play outside, in case people noticed me. But when I saw they did not care. I played more. In the evening, I would watch cartoons on TV. Then I would get my nightdress on and sleep early in my crib.

The town was a small one, but it meant that I could always dress so pretty. At first, it was embarrassing because mum insisted that I would have to be in a stroller. However, people commented that I was pretty. I think it helped that I was small. They even commented that Kylie was a tomboy and I was a real princess. This made me laugh at what would they say if they knew the truth? I must admit that I loved clothes stores, and would always beg my mum for a dress or something. I hated when we were shopping for diapers. The people were nice. If they knew I was really a boy with girl’s clothes, they never let on. Of course, when I looked in the mirror, I did look like a 5-year-old girl.

By the end of the summer, I no longer was afraid that my secret would come out. I was happy wearing dresses. I no longer had control of my bladder and didn’t think of sleeping in a crib, using pacifiers and bottles, or strollers or high chairs. I was even using a playpen by the end of the summer. It was time to start school. Mum told me that Kylie would be going to the class that she should go in. But I would be going to a special class. I protested saying that I was no retard. Mum convinced me that it was not for retards. She did remind me that I have regressed a lot and that I was now thinking and acting as a toddler. In the end, I agreed to start the class.

I was surprised that there were a few others my age. Most of them were toddlers. I quickly found out that the class was just like kindergarten. We sang, drew, and heard stories. We even had naps. It was just like a nursery. The others wore diapers as well. Of course, the teacher knew I was a boy. She would just smile. At the start, I would kick and cry when she wanted to change me. She just stuck a pacifier in my mouth and told me it is OK. There were others like me. That didn’t stop me from crying and kicking. It was humiliating that someone outside the family knew the truth. This was until one day; I noticed that another girl my age was also a boy. This shocked me at first. Until now, I felt alone. Now I meet another sissy. He had a different story than me. He just felt like a girl. His family moved to this town because the town had tolerance. His name was Chris and we became friends. He was my first real friend in my life. Someone I could share my inner thoughts with and someone that understand what was going on in my head.

The whole story started with Kylie getting raped, which made her very sad and afraid of men. When we moved to the old town, she was back to her former self. She was smiling and talking all the time. There was one difference. She was no longer my little sister. She was now taller than me, and of course, she acted older. She took care of me. Helping change my diapers, helping me pick my clothes, and always fixing my long hair so it looked pretty. We never talked about what happened to her. We never talked about when I was a boy.

So here I am today, writing my story down. There is a reason why I am doing this. I want to remember who I was, and how I became like this. I suppose it is because Mum talked to me last night that I would be getting hormones and tablets so that I would sound and look more like a girl. When I was older, I could also get an operation to get rid of the thing between my legs. I didn’t even argue with Mum when she said this. The fact is that this started with me trying to put a smile on Kylie's face. However, this was an excuse, as I felt happier myself when I was a girl. I don’t know if moving to the town was good for me. It seemed like they had too much tolerance. There were no norms or taboos that stopped me from being like a baby girl. Maybe this was good as well. As who knows, maybe I would be screwed up if I continued to be a boy. The fact was that Kylie was happy now. I was also happy. I do not understand why I started acting like a baby and ended up being a baby. That is probably something a shrink would love to talk about.

It was hard writing this story down. Every time I wrote that I was a boy, I smiled and felt a bit of anxiety at the same time. I do not look like a boy and I do not feel like a boy.

That could explain that a few minutes ago, Kylie came in and asked me if I was her sister. I took the pacifier out of my mouth and said, “Yes, I am your little sister”

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