Becoming me

So it was after those 3 days of being Sarah, I effectively moved in with Miss Victoria, I used to work 12hr shifts, on a 4 on 4 off basis. I’d stay at home at my parents on my work days and then spend all my days off with Miss Victoria and her family.
Initially it was as a sort of live in maid, looking after her house/home allowing her to work and study without worrying about chores etc, as I’d do them for her. It felt so ‘right’ for me and her family were so kind, her son used to (and still does occasionally) call me aunty Sarah which sub consciously helped me so much.
over time as my confidence grew we would integrate me more and more not only into her own social life but help me find friends of my own.
Miss V was a bit of a 1950’s Rockabilly fan, and went to a local dance group once a week, and it was accompanying her to some of these and meeting her fellow dancers and friends, who all accepted me for being me and didn’t bat an eyelid at this obviously male guy always turning up in a dress and makeup, sat at the side (I can’t dance, I was once told I have 3 left feet I was so bad) watching them learn new dances, just enjoying the music and the friendliness of the group.
As my confidence grew we would do more and more things together as friends rather than Mistress and sub (don’t get me wrong we still enjoyed fun in her dungeon). Thursday night was swimming night, we’d pick her son up from school, go to Morrisons cafe for our tea, and then go to the pool for her son’s swimming lessons. Again, having heard the usual horror stories of abuse trans people get, I was amazed at how accepting everyone was, always correctly gendering me and addressing me as Sarah.

Having been doing this for several months, slowly getting more confident in my self I took what at the time I thought was a big step. I ha noticed that Miss was often rushed to pick her son up from school in the afternoons, and in the mornings I used to deliberately not get up until they left to take him to school to keep out the way. One evening whilst we were having one of our girly nights on the sofa together watching something on TV, I made my suggestion: why don’t I help you with the school runs, it seemed a logical solution, I had the time and it freed Miss up from having to plan her day around school times, do it was a couple of weeks later I found myself on my own, standing in the primary school playground waiting to pick up her son. As he was let out of school by his teacher the smile on his face on seeing me picking up was another confirmation this is normal this is me. He don’t the next 10 mins dragging me round meeting and introducing all his friends parents. The next day I knew I had arrived and been accepted and all my lasting fears disappeared as I was stood talking to the other mums and dads as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing. I think it was this one singular event that finally told me I was me and to relax. After this I never looked back. During school holidays often spending the day with the young man, taking him out for the day on trips just him, or sometimes him and a school chum, allowing his mother, Miss Bictoria to concentrate on her work and studies