The other day I spent a night at my sister's home to make an appointment the next morning in her city. Before she left for work, she left a towel and washcloth out for me and told me to use her shower if I wanted. So as I reached for the towel behind the door on a hook was one of her bras. I looked at it as I dried myself. It was a black underwire with foam molded cups. I have a couple of them in my collection. It felt a bit strange as I reached for it and before I knew it, I had fastened the hooks behind me and it was on. It fit me as well as one of my own. It was her clothes I had first tried on over forty years ago, and to my surprise we are after all of these years still the same size. After I had worn it for a while, I put it back where it was and I did feel a bit strange for doing it. .
If I was to ever tell one of my family members about this side of me , it would be her, but I do not think the time is right quite yet.