I never really ‘hated’ girls but, like all young boys, I went through a phase where I wasn’t that interested in them.  I can recall, however, at about age ten admiring young woman of about 18 years old and thinking how nice they looked. By the time I was at an age where I was very interested in girls, full pettis were (in Australia, at least) very much out of vogue – way too hot!  Except for deb (debutante) balls, girls didn’t really wear full pettis at all.  Now slips and half slips, that was another matter.  At that time, in the early sixties, it was not unusual for women to go town or the races (the ‘track’) dressed very formally including hats and gloves.  Slips, stockings and suspender belts (garters to you Americans) were mandatory for the well dressed woman about town.  A glimpse of a lace hem peaking out from under a skirt or dress was very appealing to a young bloke and probably sparked my near life long interest in soft, lacy feminine garments.  ‘Hate’ girls?  Not likely!

My stage was when I was in high school. I know I should have been liking girls by then, but I resented the way that girls dressed, and made me feel about my body. So, I would run down the halls, and if a girl was facing a locker, I would slap her on the behind. I never thought they cared what I did. But one day, I was minding my own business, and this girl grabbed me by the wrist, and that knocked my books to the floor. When I tried to pick up my books, she would not let go of my arm. I tried to pull my arm free, but she held it too tight. She told me to apologize to her. At first I did not know what I did to her. But then I realized she must have been one of the anonymous girls I hit on the real end for months. But I did not have it in me to apologize. So, she said we would settle this at 3pm, which is after school. I did not think she really meant anything. Girls do not take on boys in a fight. And I was much bigger than her. By 3pm, I had forgotten all about it. It all happened so damn fast. I felt hands around my neck. I felt a foot in the back of my knee. I was on my back looking up, with this expression of confusion on my face. Then she was sitting on my chest, and pinning my arms to the ground under her folded legs. Then she started slapping my face, and I could not do a damn thing to stop her. I never felt more helpless in my life.

Yes I went through the I hate girls stage, from age 6 to about 12 or 13, I guess. I'm sure part of it was the feelings and urges I had to wear their clothes, and the fact that I was so ashamed over it. There was probably some jealousy over their clothes, too.

Another reason was a cousin I had. Diane was my second cousin and was four months younger than me. She was pretty, but a tomboy and never wore dresses such. When we were 8, I was taller and heavier than she, but she was already better than me at sports, and actually beat me arm wrestling. That made me even more unsure of myself, especially with my desire to wear dresses. By the time we were 10 she was two inches taller than I and weighed about the same. She could outrun me, hit a baseball father and even ride our other cousin's motorcycle better than me. When I got fed up and jumped on her, she beat me up! She busted my lip and blacked my eye. My father was very embarrassed about that, and I'm pretty sure he was ashamed of me.

My torment went on for a couple more years until Diane started liking boys. For a few years, she ruined everything for me though. She'd go out for baseball, soccer or anything else I tried out for just to beat me out. She also embarrassed me at the bus stop, on the school bus and at school. She'd brag about beating me up, give me wedgies and pants me in front of other kids. If she had known of my crossdressing secret she would have totally humiliated me. Luckily we eventually went to different schools and drifted apart over the years. I started to like girls around the age of 13 and even stopped dressing for a short while, but I always slip back into it. I've only told one girl that I dated about my dressing. She was fine with it and even helped me until we broke up; then she told her friends that I was a freak. So I've been keeping it to myself since then.
 

Did I hate girls ? Not really. I was raised being around an older sister who wore pretty dresses, skirts ant petticoats. My mom was very nurturing and over all she had was a positive influence on my life. I admired girls and women for the way they dressed, acted and treated me. Because of that, I always felt that women and girls should be treated like queens. I was into the usual boy stuff, but not much into sports, as I was rather small. I had my small share of boy friends but for the most part I was picked on by other boys and my father was very strict and opinionated.
I had a girlfriend in 1st grade and again in the 5th and 6th grade. Her name was Gina and she was really quite pretty. I remember her pony tail and a turquoise dress with a white bib lace bib in front. At the time it was really uncool to like girls but I really felt she was the one for me. Sadly she moved away in 7th grade and never heard from her since.
Mini skirts were all the rage from 7th grade to the end of high school and so were my hormones. At this time I really appreciated the female form and styles. It's too bad that most of today's women look, dress and act like men and yet, if a man were to wear a dress or skirt, he is called a cross dresser!  I think there is a double standard going on here!
Oh well, I hope you enjoy my comments.

I can remember my sisters getting ready for school, wearing their dresses and their skirts and looking so pretty, and I just sat there wondering, 'Why can't I go to school like that?' and my mom saying, 'You're a boy. Boys don't wear skirts and hose.'

To which I responded, 'But, I'm sorry, Mom, I want to.'  To which she said, 'Why?'

I didn't know why; to me, in a dress was me.  So one day I took matters in my own hands  and got dressed in my sister's clothes on a Sunday, knowing they be home soon but I didn't care.  There I was in a dress, heels, hose and slip, trying to curl my hair, when they all walked in.  My youngest sister saw me first, saying something like, 'Mommy, I have another sister.' 

Well then comes my mom and my other sis.  They got a laugh at first, then came the ideas.  'We can take her to church; she can be our friend from school; 'Please, Mom!'  My mom told me to go down stairs so she could talk to my sisters. She pretty much said that I'm done for and I do as she says,  which meant finishing dressing and going to church as I was.  But the dress I had on wasn't her style, so she laid out a shorter white dress to match my slip and she also had me put on higher heels.  Then she did my makeup a bit and finished my hair.  I looked in the mirror and saw me -- a really cute girl!  My sisters where amazed, and I was happy.

To make this story short, I went to church that day in my dress and heels, and my mom and sisters and me have never been closer!

With my mother making statements like "I got it right the second time," referring to my kid sister (by 18 months), and with Dad wanting me to be "manly" but obviously preferring Janet with all her talents over me on every occasion, I had a sort of love-hate relation with girls while I was growing up. At one point, I was overtly "I hate Girls", but as this was right before the hormones kicked in and I wanted to date (without success), and prove to my dad that I was "manly," I don't know if this really counts.

Anyway, during grade school, it seemed like I was constantly trying to at least equal Janet and never really succeeded. I feel this led me to desire becoming a Poufbunny in the first place. And that has stayed with me for the rest of my life.

As a child I never would have thought about hating girls, since I spent so much time with my girlfriends and playing dress up and house.  It was boys who were yucky at first, but then as my girlfriends got older and we started to talk about boys and how to dress to make ourselves attractive to them, I started to find them attractive as well.

Yes, I did manage to date a few boys, and I loved it.

I never hated girls. I really liked them and enjoyed being with them. Of course, I was jealous or envious of them since I grew up in the 1950's. I still have many memories of the girls wearing various petticoats. I lived in a very windy area and it wasn't unusual for the girls to have their dresses blow up, showing off their petticoats. One day, the elastic band on one girl's petticoat broke and it fell to her ankles. In 1960-61, several girls in my home room class used to stuff as many petticoats under their dresses as possible. They also wore girdles or garter belts and stockings, as well as stiletto high heels. I longed to dress that way and finally was able to wear a petticoat for the first time about 1962, when my mother bought one

Not at all. When I was three years old, my best friend was my girl friend from next door. We played all the time. I loved her; she had beautiful brown eyes. We were going to marry each other. I dreamed of wearing her pretty dresses, and was devastated when she and her family moved away. I had to make my life with the boys who were rough and I did not like very much. Yes, I was referred to as a “SHE” quite a few times. I got over the threshold and got also tough, as a matter of survival.

No, not at all. If you have seen the movie "Ma Vie en Rose" you might understand my position. I was a girl in a (cliché) boy's body. I would spend whole weekends dressed as a girl with my friend Mary L---- who 'knew.' On the other hand, I didn't like boys.

Pettis to me were and are the quintessence of femininity, having all the mystique and eroticism of being a girl . . . merely walking while wearing a full petti... *sigh*... Well ....*grin* It's beautiful.

"Merry Christmas" to all Bunnies!

No, as far as I can remember, I never had this stage. At an early age, my mother used the Dr. Spock idea of punishment of putting a dress on your boy. No, I did not like that. However, I had a girlfriend then, (at age 6 I think it was), and they were playing 'no boys allowed' games, and I wanted to be there too, and so I found this punishment dress, put it on with some lipstick I found, and went and joined them. To say the least, my mother never used that form of punishment again. However, I had to tell my girlfriend and her friends that "Grandma" couldn't come back. That was my explanation. Back to the subject though, I don't remember ever hating girls. Usually, it was the girls I knew who treated me the best. The boys, on the other hand, well, most of them didn't. I guess that was good though as it kept any potential gay thoughts far away.

I always thought girls were wonderful. I can remember being very in love with a girl in my kindergarden class. She liked me too and we even held hands sometimes like when we sat in a circle to sing. I was crushed when her family moved away. In the third grade, I was in love with my best friend's sister. Her class was in a different room than mine, but we met in the hall before school and started to wish each other a good morning and we would make a point of finding each other at lunch. We both took some teasing, but we didn't care. There are two other things that were really nice about this relationship. Her brother, my best friend, had the same first name as me and he thought it was just fine for his sister and I to be in love.

A family near by had three girls; the oldest was my age and we were very good friends. I knew her from before I started school. We played, daydreamed, and talked together a lot. Even though she moved away during middle school, we stayed in touch until after college.

I played with the boys too; the usual baseball, fishing, and so on. The guys I knew teased me a bunch for spending time with girls, but I didn't let that stop me. It seemed to me that girls certainly had better lives than boys in some ways and I was torn between wanting to have and enjoy some of the things girls did, but also not wanting to give up being a boy. I felt bad about the fact that there didn't seem to be any way that I could be like boys in some ways and like girls in others. I was never branded a sissy or anything like that but I wasn't one of the usual macho males either.

We were much more innocent about sex and gender than children now and I had no sisters. I believed for a long time that being a boy or a girl was a matter of how parents chose to raise their child. It seemed quite reasonable that boys or girls could change places if they wanted to and people would let them. I found it particularly touching when I read the story titled "Xmastory" at the GirlTalk site. The part where the little boy prayed that he could be a girl; I can remember times when I prayed that same prayer. Times when the boys had been particularly mean to me and the girls had been good to me. It wasn't that I really wanted to be a girl; it just seemed better than the way I was since boys weren't allowed to be like girls at all.

So, what was it that I found attractive in a girl's life? To start with, girls could hug, giggle, and cry. Girls also got to dress in very pretty things; boys weren't allowed to be pretty. Girls could be kind and gentle; boys were very limited in expressing there feelings. On the other hand, I enjoyed being strong. I could hit'em long in baseball. I liked to hunt, fish, camp, and I was always building something. I was good at science and always had to know how things worked. All these were clearly boy territory when I was little. I'm glad
to see girls/women make the progress they have. We're still stuck.

Victor honey, you have missed out in so much beauty and joy.

Never did I hate girls! I grew up in a family of all females and envied the beautiful clothes they got to wear. Sometimes I think mothers gave their daughters special preferential treatment. Most of the kids on my block in the 1950's were sweet young girls, and I actually preferred playing with them than the guys. I was made the center of their attention and it was they who got me into my first pair of panties and white cotton socks. We all giggled and clowned around on hot afternoons trying to get me into a party dress. The day I gave in to my inner femininity and slipped into Susies pink nylon an lace party dress, was truly magical and I have not been without my own pretty party dress since. I still like girls very much and can now appreciate the beauty and softness they possess. Unfortunately todays clothing styles supress the pretty feminine side of them and they miss out on soooo... much inner warmth and glow. I am appalled at the sweat suit look you see in the supermarket on an attractive woman. It cries out, "I don't care about myself anymore!" On the other hand, a beautifully dressed female commands my full interest and attention, melting me in my tracks, and I wish I could command that kind of power. It is this exquisite joy I experience when I climb into pretty things made of silk, satin and nylon. I reel with an inner joy and beauty that is an extremely sensuous experience.

I never went through a "I hate girls" stage ...though I can remember being secretly envious of girls....because they were able to wear all the things that I so desperately wanted to wear, like dresses and nailpolish. All things considered, I doubt that this has anything to do with the question. I was jealous.... as any girl would be who was not allowed to express herself.

I never went through a phase where I hated girls. But I did have a phase in which I was scared to death of them. Interestingly, this would have been the 1957-1960 era (my age 12-15) in which petticoats had their greatest glory. I would see a girl I knew walking toward me on the same side of the street and I would jaywalk if necessary to the other side of the street to avoid having to speak to her. I am not sure why. But I do know that this was the period that I was increasingly interested in wearing girls clothes.....and petticoats were a major interest.

I was facinated by the sight of petticoat hems showing beneath the skirts of the girls in my classrooms. On one occassion, a girl who sat to my left had left her zipper undone on her skirt and when she turned I could catch a flash of nylon through the open zipper. I was overwhelmed with a flush of feminity!

Later, I caught glimpses of her bra through her sleeveless dress. It was so pretty. Why couldn't I wear one? Perhaps it was these things that made me afraid of girls. I knew I wanted to be one. Anyway, I feared they could see that in my eyes...especially the way I looked at their clothes. Eventually I suppressed these fears. But they still remain an influence.

Do they know that when I stare I am more interested in BEING them than getting them?

Ed: A thought that has crossed most of our minds at one time or another, no?

Victor 9/21/97

I did go through that stage, like every little boy probably. But above all I would hate SKIRTS and all that female stuff. As for petticoats, I didn't even dare think about them...