My name is Ella and I’ve been a part of CDH of quite some time, but under different user names. This is mostly due to purges and compromises that I’ve had to make. Even so, I’ve come to a point in my life where I don’t need to any of those things any more. So, hurray! 🙂
I’m really excited about all the good stuff in my future: makeup, a big-ish wardrobe, heels (!), and much more.
If anyone is up for a chat, just PM me. I’m always up for getting to know new people. Also, if you know anyone from Romania who is into crossdressing, please let them know I’m here. It would mean a great deal for me.
With all this being said, if any of you are curious about my story, please read on. Hope you enjoy it!
I would like to think that my story is special and unique. On the other hand, it does feel comforting to know that some of you have gone through something similar. It all began when little, that I discovered a fascination to don feminine clothing. While dressed, I was also attracted to the image I saw in the mirror. Can you Imagine the questions that were swirling through my head? Was all of this wrong, immoral…? To top it all off, those teenager hormones certainly weren’t helping. Please don’t get me wrong, I did not suffer much because of my unusual clothing preferences. It sure would have been nice though to have somebody explain to me what was going on…
Curiously, right around high school, the want simply vanished… Only to reappear during my last year at the university. I quickly started acquiring undergarments and clothes. And makeup? I remember I would stay up late and, while my girlfriend was sleeping, I would sneak into her makeup stash and would “borrow” her mascara and lipstick. By the time I was 23, my wardrobe had grown a bit. Even so, out of all those feminine items, my favorite was a pair of black, round-toed, high heeled shoes. Damn, do I miss those shoes!
I had even met someone from my town which was also into crossdressing (we’ll call him M.). Our big debate, other than what was better, skirts or leggings, was whether or not we should tell our respective girlfriends. M. was the cautious one, while I… “We cannot be deceitful with the people we care about! I must tell her! It’s the right thing to do!” It is said, people heard M.’s facepalm from a mile away. But my intentions were noble, so he didn’t press too much against the action. M. did warn me to be careful though. “Ease her into it”, he said. “Maybe try and ask what’s her opinion on the subject in general. Just be careful about it, OK?”.
And subtle I was. Like a sledgehammer at 4’am in the morning…
It must be said that, no, I didn’t await for her to come home, all dressed in high heels, stockings and some makeup. Thankfully. But I was a man on a mission. I truly believed that being straightforward and honest about it would be enough to convince her to accept this ever-growing passion of mine. Oh boy…
One day I finally gathered enough courage and went for it. “L., I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something important. Do you know what crossdressing is?” She looked puzzled, so I pressed on. “To put simply, it’s when a person of a certain sex likes to dress in the clothes of the other. And, well… I like to crossdress.” The silence went on forever. She was so deep in thought, I was expecting a blue-screen-of-death error message any second. Finally, she asked: “So, you’re saying you like dressing in women’s clothes?” I nodded slowly. “And you have women’s clothes here at home.” I nodded more vigorously this time. “OK… Would you mind showing me?”. “As in, show you what I bought?” “No, I’m curious what you look like dressed up.”
Could it have been this easy? After all the mental anguish, would it all go down so smoothly? I asked her to wait in another room while I changed. I put on some panties, a bra, a pink long-sleeved deep-neck shirt, a pair of black leggings and my one and only pair of black high heels. I looked… like a guy in women’s clothes…
“Tada!”. She looked me up and down. “So, what do you think?” Just then, simply by looking at her face, I knew this was all going to go to hell. “You look weird…”. I felt like that ‘weird’ came out more like a ‘wrong’. “Come on, you can’t say I don’t have good looking legs…” Nice way to throw fuel the fire, dumbass.
“Listen, this isn’t what I signed up for. If I would have know you were doing this from the beginning, I definitely would not have started dating you!” I could feel the temperature rising in the room. “I feel betrayed, lied to!”
“But what’s the big deal?! They’re just women’s clothes!”
“I need a man in my life, not… not this! I need somebody strong, who will be there for me!”
“But I have been there for you… And why in the world would you feel like I lied to you?”
“You haven’t ever bought me a pair of high heels, but you have for yourself! I feel as if there is this woman in our lives who gets more of your attention than me!”
“That’s ridiculous, L.! You are the only woman for me!”
But no matter what I said from that point on, I would just make things worse. I stopped to think about it for a moment. In a way, she was right about the second woman in our relation. Whenever I was crossdressed and looked in the mirror, the ‘woman’ I saw was somewhat attractive. She dressed the way I wanted, she did what I wanted a woman to do in my presence… Was I in an erotic relation with myself?
I started feeling guilty. From how she saw the situation, I had betrayed her. Just looking into her eyes, it made me feel dreadful. I loved her and in that instant I promised I would make things right.
Out went all my fem clothes and undergarments. After that moment, I stopped talking to M. didn’t return any of his messages. I did want to send him a few words, tell him what had happened. I wanted to explain that I felt I needed to stop, that what I was doing was wrong, but for some reason, I stopped myself in the middle of the message. I never heard from M. from then on.
I had just gone through my first purge. It was an experience which drained me both mentally and physically and it is something which I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. I haven’t been truly addicted to substances or gambling, but I’ve read it feels somewhat similar. You get withdrawal symptoms: a feeling of being depressed and physical sickness. For me personally, I just felt the former, but with an extra mix of confusion, doubt and guilt. It was one of the sadder moments of my life.
Even so, out of all of this anguish, looking back, I did find something amusing. Remember that pair of high heels I wore when I presented my fem self to L.? I didn’t immediately throw them away with the rest of my stuff. In fact, they survived until my second purge, a year and so later. Me and L. would sometimes make fun of the situation we had previously found ourselves in, whenever one of us would go looking for clothes in the wardrobe they were kept in. No idea why she never felt an urge to throw them away…
Six years and three purges later, we have decided to split up. Mind you, not because of my crossdressing. Our relation had come to a point where we didn’t have much in common anymore. The silver lining is that she has remained my best friend. I have started crossdressing again and, the most surprising thing, L. is now quite OK with this. Frustrating, right? She explained that she needs “real man” besides her. Since I am no longer in the position to fill that need, she has no more expectations that I should behave in a certain manner.
Now that I am free from any compromises, I promise to myself to always go with what my heart says, at least on the subject of expressing myself through my clothes. Right now, I feel like I need to make up for lost time. Queen puts it all so elegantly: “I want it all, and I want it now!” Makeup, clothes, wigs, heels, no body hair, going out into town… Right now, I feel a great sense of relief and am very excited for the future.
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