I’ve been crossdressing since an early age. My first time and what I wore were my sister’s red tights. Their feeling of sliding up my legs was a very different experience. I can’t remember why I tried them on; I just did. I suppose I was always a little envious of the girls and their clothing, stockings, tights, pleated skirts, ponytails, barrettes, and hair ribbons.
Wearing my sister’s red tights was wonderful; somehow it felt right. In a few days, I was donning her blouse and pleated skirt, white socks, and of course, her ankle socks and buckled shoes. I remember the feelings that I had. It was such a rush of endorphins that it has never left me. I think she knew, but never said anything; my sis loved me; we were very close.
Reality eventually sets in and so does the fear of being caught. That voice inside our head guilts us. “What in hell are you doing? You’re a boy, not a girl.” So, the battle of wills begins, our split personalities, the struggle in sharing those female feelings that want to come out. There is a need to find a balance by trying to keep the male more predominant and socially acceptable. Shame and guilt rule us, I think from that time forward; it’s too bad, really.
Who thought up the wonderful idea of BLUE for boys, and PINK for girls? Well, I might be able to change history if I had a time machine, as well as his nose because I assume it was a male. The real question is Why?
Through the years, I have been married three times. My first wife was a little okay with things; it just didn’t work out. My second, after being told I love to wear panties, well, things changed after that, and we divorced. My third wife knows I wear them, and a few other items, and lets it go. I have never told her about my dress, skirt, pantyhose, high heels, wig, and breast forms. I don’t want to push it.
I wish with all my heart I could pass as a woman, maybe if I were a teen again I would pursue it. It was my wasted youth, looking back on that part of my life. Has any of us looked at an attractive woman… I’m not talking about teens but ladies in their mid-twenties and older, wishing you could be her for a week, a day, an hour. I do so almost every day. To know you’re stunning and have it all together. What an hour I think it would be.
But for now, I am me. I‘m learning to accept the person for who and what I am. A person with a better half inside that is always trying to embrace me. My advice: don’t purge when you feel so ashamed of her. She will be back, she never leaves; she’s been there from the moment of our inception. Just take a time out and reflect.