I’ve tried to stop asking “why.” Tried to. The simple answer is IT MAKES ME HAPPY. Full stop. And who doesn’t want to be happy? Why does it make me happy? I dunno. It just does. But then do we ask baseball players why baseball makes them happy? Do we insist on knowing why making music makes musicians happy before we let them do it? Do we stop a poet from his poetry until we satisfy ourselves of his intentions? There are certain things in life that just make certain people happy, 99% of which are totally harmless. Properly handled, crossdressing is one of them. Why do people need to know why? Why do we?
-Jen
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