If you read my overly long profile, you saw that as a kid, I hated wearing swimsuits and often swam in whatever I was wearing at the time (usually against my mom's wishes). My absolute favorite thing to swim in was my Belle costume, but I think that had a large part to do with my mom not being especially concerned if it got ruined, and it meant I wouldn't ruin something nicer. Plus, "swimming" at the time meant splashing in the shallow end of the public pool or in my Little Mermaid kiddie pool.

Once I got a bit older and learned to swim, I found I was quite good at it. Like, really good. Unfortunately, being on the swim team meant I had to wear the hated swimsuits and I was rarely around water just for fun anymore.

Sometime around age 13 or 14, I attended a friend's birthday party at the neighborhood pool. We were all goofing around, splashing and dunking each other and just generally having fun when something caught my eye.

A lovely young woman, probably around 20 or so, was walking outside the fence toward the pool building where the concession stand and changing rooms were, and also the only way into or out of the fenced-in pool. What caught my attention was how she was dressed. She wore a shiny burgundy satin dress with a tight, corseted halter top with a sweetheart neckline and a flowy, ankle-length skirt, strappy black stilettos with dark pantyhose, black opera gloves with some sort of thin, sparkly bracelet on her left wrist, and a matching necklace and drop earrings. Her long, chocolate-brown hair was styled in loose ringlets with some gathered into a partial updo. She looked incredible! But she also looked incredibly out of place walking briskly toward the pool building, despite her confident stride.

I watched her the whole way until she disappeared from my view after what seemed like forever, but couldn't have been more than thirty seconds or so. It was only about 200 feet from where I first noticed her until she passed out of my view, and she was moving at a decent pace. But for that long moment, everything else was forgotten: my friends, our games, the crowded pool, everything. I only got a brief look at her face and other than the initial recognition that she was pretty, I can't for the life of me remember any details of her face. Her attire, however, is burned into my memory.

For the rest of my time at the pool that day, I was obsessively glancing over at the exit to the women's changing room and the fence along the parking lot, but I never did see her again. I even made some lame excuse to go look in the changing room, the showers, the bathroom, and the big, open lobby area where you checked in if you had a pass or paid if you didn't, but she was nowhere to be found.

She was completely out of place there. It was the middle of the afternoon and the pool was in a large city park. On three sides of the pool were athletic fields, two football fields and a soccer field. The fourth and last side bordered the parking lot where she had come from. The other side of the street beyond the parking lot was just a small strip of open land with a tall, solid wood fence, and beyond that was the freeway. There was no reasonable explanation for her being there that I could think of besides either picking up something she'd forgotten on a previous visit, or perhaps she was an employee or lifeguard who was stopping by on the way to a wedding or other formal event to show off her dress to her friends.

Still, the mystery of why she was there had dug its nails into my mind and I couldn't let it go. I inspected (from a distance) every woman who exited the changing room, searching for any sign that maybe she was the woman. I kept my eye out for those strappy black stilettos, as I figured they'd be the most likely item to be worn into the pool area even if she'd changed, although I knew that was a longshot. I watched for her earrings, her fancy partial updo (or even a soaked version of it, as she would have to pass through the showers in order to enter the pool, although it was pretty common for women to walk through the center of the shower room where they'd stay dry if they were just there to sunbathe or supervise kids). But even with my nearly obsessive searching, I saw no sign of her the rest of the day, not even heading back to her car.

I couldn't get her out of my head for days afterward either. I tried to think of other reasons why she was there and why I hadn't seen her inside or seen her leave again. I found myself actually fantasizing about her in ways I hadn't even experienced with boys (combined with other events over the next few years, I came to realize I was bi, but this was the first indication of that).

I imagined all kinds of scenarios involving her coming into the pool area. In one, I found her showering in her beautiful outfit. In another, I saw her exiting the changing room soaking wet from the shower, striding to the pool's shallow end (the closest area to the changing rooms), and climbing in before wading deeper and swimming to the deep end still fully dressed. In another, I saw her exit the changing room still dry, walk around the pool's edge to the deep end with her heels clicking the whole way, then executing a perfect dive before swimming around. In another, she did a cannonball right next to me, then she joined my friends and I in our splashing and dunking. In each one, she remained fully dressed in her incredible outfit, which confused me. I had always thought that fantasies were supposed to be sexual, full of nudity and sex and love and whatever grownups did when us kids weren't around.

Over time, she started appearing in my dreams or daydreams in other equally fancy outfits, ranging from wedding gowns to prom dresses to glamorous evening gowns, in other unusual locations: pools, beaches, rivers, on (and off) boats and jet skis, in the bath or shower, etc. Soon I was involved as well, also beautifully dressed. My lifelong love of fancy dresses had changed a bit. Now, I often wondered how my dresses would look soaked. On the rare occasions when I had a reason to dress up, I looked for opportunities to get wet "accidentally," although I always chickened out.

After being outed to my school as a lesbian by my (former) best friend after horribly misreading her cues, I found myself dateless on my junior prom night. I was too scared to tell my parents what had happened (and even more scared to come out to them) and too scared to go to prom where I'd have to face everyone alone, so I got all dressed up and told my parents I was meeting my friends at a restaurant for dinner before the dance. I had them drive me to a nice restaurant near a lake a few miles away and went inside, knowing I had no reservation, but I didn't want my parents to wait for me. I thoroughly embarrassed myself with the lady inside until my parents drove off, then ran away in tears, hoping to fade away into the dark night as I ran toward the lake.

Once I got to the spot I'd remembered from a family beach day at this lake the summer before, I started to calm down. Finally, here I was, alone on the beach dressed very similarly to that woman at the pool, only my dress had a longer, fuller skirt and was dark red satin with black lace trim and beading. My hairstyle was very similar as well, although this wasn't really intentional. My hair is naturally very curly and unless I straighten it, it's very hard to tame. I had opted not to get my hair done professionally since I wasn't actually going to the dance, so I did the best I could and it ended up in a kinda messy partial updo. Still, I felt like a princess and finally had a chance to act on all those fantasies, even if I was all alone on a beach at night.

The first thing I learned was that it is incredibly hard to walk gracefully on sand in stilettos. Later, I learned that those gentle waves that nudge you toward shore and gently tug you out toward the deeper water feel a whole lot different when you have yards of satin and tulle around your legs. My attempt to walk gracefully into the water was quickly abandoned, and I was just trying to stay on my feet. Once I gave up and let myself fall, though, I started to really enjoy it. I loved the way the material felt as it floated around my legs. I loved the way my satin gloves felt on my skin when they got wet. I loved the way the satin corset seemed to hug me in the water. It was probably the most incredible feeling I've ever felt. It was like I'd died and gone to heaven. There wasn't even anything sexual about it at that point. I was just enjoying the way it felt.

Still, all good things must come to an end, and the night air was getting cold. Even worse, I realized I had never come up with an exit plan. I was a few miles away from home with no vehicle of my own and couldn't think of anyone I could call that would come get me other than my parents... and i had just built up this whole big lie about meeting my friends for dinner at the restaurant.

I ended up breaking down and calling them to come get me, adding more lies on. I told my parents I'd had a panic attack and went to the dock on the lake to calm down, which... well, was partly true. I said that I told my friends to go to the dance without me since I'd messed up my makeup crying (also partly true, at least the makeup part). Then, I said I accidentally fell off the dock into the water, which was 100% believable for my parents because they knew I wasn't very steady on my feet in those incredibly sexy but way too high stilettos that I had insisted on buying. They brought me a change of clothes, we stuffed my dress in a trash bag so it wouldn't get the car all wet, and then they brought me home. Unsurprisingly, my story fell apart as they started asking questions, but a rather well-timed, but real panic attack over the possibility of them finding out I'm bi and why I suddenly had no friends ended up saving me from further questions.

This whole coming out/prom fiasco did eventually have a somewhat happy ending. My senior year of high school sucked, but my parents and sister were supportive when I did finally tell them. When I left for college, I didn't bother hiding it and found some really good, supportive friends, including my freshman roommate, who I've been sharing dorm rooms, apartments, and now a house with ever since. We've had our ups and downs and our friendship survived an unrequited crush on my end (she's straight), but she's literally the best friend I could ever have asked for. Best of all, she even encourages my forays into wetlook, although for her it's just some goofy fun (when she's participating) or a chance to add to her portfolio (when she has her camera).

I do still have that red and black prom dress and although its seen quite a bit of wear and tear over the years, especially from hiking/outdoor photoshoots, it's still my favorite article of clothing I've ever owned, and I love every opportunity I get to wear it. And that nameless bridesmaid/beauty queen from that fateful day at the pool still makes an appearance in my dreams from time to time. I just wish I knew why she was there and what happened after she disappeared around the corner of that pool building.