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Lately I have been reading a lot of posts and stories regarding shame,guilt, and self acceptance. I have been dealing with CD related depression again and figured it was time to evaluate myself and why being me bothers me so much. I have drawn the conclusion that it comes from my past.
I started dressing at about 3 or 4 years old with my sister. She got me all dressed and made me feel pretty and then took me to show my parents. My dad got very angry and whipped my butt pretty good calling me all sorts of wonderful things that I will just leave to your imagination.
Through life I still had my urges and snuck around a lot. My mom and sister caught on and again with the negativity. I kept doing it though. I don’t understand why but I just couldn’t make it go away.
Through life, trying to come out and come to terms with my desire to feel pretty, I have been called many many harsh names. Freak was most commonly heard from girlfriends,and one boyfriend. Yes I explored sexually with it as I was always told that I must be gay if I liked to feel pretty.
I was even told by a church I attended that I was a sexual deviant and an abomination. Wow. Harsh words. During my time with that church I met my first wife. I did tell her before we married and although she acted on with it she used it as an excuse to cheat.
Now years later, and with my current wife, I am free to explore my desires. So, why do I still feel all this guilt? I don’t have to be ashamed. I came to the realization that I have not fully accepted who\what I am. I’m not gay not do I have any desire to be a woman. What am I?
The other night while we were dressed together I asked my wife why she didn’t like wearing dresses and getting all pretty. She said she felt it was too much work. She has never been a girly girl and was always a tomboy growing up.
Bang. It hit me. Tomboy. That socially acceptable title that some girls are called. Not queer or freak or abomination or crisscrossed but tomboy.
I’ve been reflecting on it all morning and still don’t have a name for it but this is what I am. It’s like the male version of a tomboy. I prefer the clothes and appearance of girly girl things the same way a tomboy prefers jeans and t-shirts and doing the things that are more associated to boys or males.
although I still have trouble with my guilty pleasure, I now feel a lot less guilt. I am going to ponder this for a while and try to put a name to it. I’m the meantime I am going to keep doing over this new revelation as a way to better come to terms with who I am.
I am not a freak, a fag, a wierdo. I am not an abomination or a deviant. I am a butiful person inside and I love to look and feel pretty. Moreso, I am me. I am pretty. And I am loved.
Thanks Ronnie. Rightly said. Beautiful conclusion. We should rule our own lives.
From my point of view the need is stronger than ourselves. CDH has been my blessing. It has helped me enormously this belonging to a community full of friendship, respect, love and understanding. My journey is peculiar. I travel my own route: at times similar to others; in others, similar to none. It is my own way but I need other contributions to succeed. I am happy the way I am and I feel loved but it is great to know you are not alone. We are here to accompany you even from a distance.
Gisela
Hi Ronnie! Wow….nice intro to the world. Since you were such a young age, your actions were quite normal for children. At that age your brain was still developing and the criticism and abuse you suffered has left an indelible mark upon you. It will take a long time to shake that feeling. Councilling may help help you here. Your parents definitley handled this issue in the worst possible way. A lot of fanatical religious people are very unbending in their ways and force that upon children. Most likely, they too were raised that way. Just be true to yourself and be happy with what you are are ignore others who try to tell you what you should be in their opinion.
All the best……..
Lady Veronica
Just a quick update. I posted this a few weeks ago while dealing with depression and the many emotions i go through as a closet crossdresser. Mostly so that i could share it with my wife. Its easier to put it in writing. Well, im still struggling, but with open comunication and full support from my wife it has gotten a lot better. My girl side has been very rejected and lonely for so long that it is nice to have support and acceptance. I want to thank you all for that. Without this outlet i think this could have been a lot worse for me and for me as Ronnie. And although i still have not put a name to “what i am” i am starting to accept that iam not him and i am not her. I am me.
When I was 4 I had a fascination with women’s legs in nylons and heels. I liked getting close to their legs and feeling them. They felt as good as they looked. This was not an acceptable behavior of course.
My dad was quite harsh with me. Mom, not liking what my dad was doing gave me stockings and pantyhose to play with and let me borrow some of her heels. As long as dad was not home and I didn’t touch ladies legs I could wear my nylons in the house and could borrow some of her heels. My mom and grandmother thought this was cute and would give their used pantyhose to me.
As years went by, I began buying my own pantyhose, then wearing them out openly. Next came, short shorts and platform wedge sandals. I grew and styled my hair so I would look feminine. Then at 18 I went to a Halloween Party dressed fully fem.
I never felt guilty or felt like what I was doing was wrong outside of societies expectations. I loved wearing my pantyhose, short shorts and platform wedge sandals with my feminine or androgynous appearance and go out shopping. it was fun and a thrill to be buying more of what I was wearing.
Becoming Patty and presenting as a sexy girl just took it to the top level. I love being Patty and the way I have to dress to become her. I love being a crossdresser.
If I look back to where it began where my dad was so harsh and if my mom supported him, I’m sure I would have felt guilt over dressing and maybe even fear or guilt over admiring a girl and wanting to touch and rub her legs.
I also may have dressed secretly and maybe a lot more when I got my own place while feeling guilty about it the whole time.. I might have never gone out dressed to any degree, or maybe I would have just stopped dressing altogether. Then again, being on my own and free to do what I wanted, my dressing and going out might have been even more intense.
We are influenced by things that occurred in our early years but we don’t have to be defined by them.
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