I, a boy, would only be aware of how abnormal it was, growing up in a small town, where the only oth

I, a boy, would only be aware of how abnormal it was, growing up in a small town, where the only other children on my street, my social peers, were a group of slightly older girls, when years later, my family would move away.I simply didn’t know any different. When I first encountered them, they appeared so fun, exciting, cool, and naturally I wanted to be apart of the comradery that they called the “wild girls”. There would be two things that they would say were  requirement to join their group. The first, being that you wear a skirt, and the second, proving that you are not the one thing, that the girls detested above all, a “lesbian”. To do this, I would have to kiss a boy.Saying before, that I didn’t know any different, the requirement to wear a skirt (or a dress), didn’t really strike me. I knew I had never worn any, and it hardly occurring to me that boys weren’t supposed to wear them, but what did strike me, was the realization that I had never seen any of the girls wear anything else. Julia, the oldest of the girls, apparently didn’t own a single pair of pants! Mother thought the whole thing was adorable….. my new group of friends comprised of girls, my requests for skirts and countless other girls clothes that I had seen my friends wear. Even how I grew my hair long, how my demeanor came to match their, and how I collated cut out and posters of boys over my bedroom walls, kissing a particular heart throb before sleep.When it came to the kiss, the victim was a boy a few streets away that I didn’t know. To him, I was just one girl out of a group of four (be it with shorter hair), who stood out, said that he was “handsome”, and requested a kiss. It was after this, that they judged that they were convinced that I wasn’t a lesbian, and that I was one of them. That I was a “wild girl”. The Masochistic Emasculation Fetish reddit group -- source link

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