Over the 30 odd years I’ve been dressing, I have purged my wardrobe a few times. The last time quite severely. I really couldn’t tell you now why I did it the first couple of times. I was probably going through a time of low self esteem and wanted to be “normal”. Mind you, I always kept the expensive wig I bought when I was 17, the lingerie sets, breast forms, some outfits and those few pairs of panties that held my tuck just right.
The last time, a true 30 day juice diet type of cleanse, was when my now wife moved into my house. Don’t misunderstand, she knew about Sarah and had embraced her. It was the space. Wardrobe space had suddenly become a premium asset. First I halved my male wardrobe and culled a few old dresses and skirts. This eased the pressure for little while.
Time moved on and I was not dressing much at all. In those early days of love, newly engaged, and expecting a child (yes, my relationship moved very fast), I think that I felt that I had everything I needed and also had to be the ‘man’ of the house so the dressing just slipped away. When my daughter was born our space problem intensified two fold. Those of you that have kids will understand how those impossibly small clothes can fill a wardrobe. Thus began the great cleansing.
I can’t say it wasn’t a little painful. Bags and bags were sifted through. That dress I bought that I actually tried on at the shop, those shoes I wore to that nightclub, that nightie that made me feel so sexy. So many memories finally going to where they were already on their way. You see, I had a deal with friends and family that I would take their old clothes to the charity shop for them. You know where this going. About half my wardrobe came from this little scheme. So all that was left was small box with some shoes, the wig, the favourite lingerie and two outfits. All shoved in the top of the cupboard to only very occasionally see the light of day. The space Gods had been appeased.
We now skip on three years. Enter 2016….
As my daughter grew the space Gods got angrier and angrier at us until we moved house. All hail the new space Gods! We have two spare bedrooms and not one but two sheds. Anyway I digress.
In Australia we have a free publication called ‘Child Magazine’ which has some interesting articles and information for parents. One of the recent editions (May I think) had a great article about a father telling his 13 year old daughter that he was a crossdresser. It was written in two parts from each of their points of view. Two things hit me. Firstly, I was going to have tell my daughter one day unless she works it out (“Daddy, why are you wearing Mummy’s shoes?”) and secondly it was the man’s story.
He wrote about being a crossdresser at a young age but then suppressing the urges. It wasn’t until the passing of his mother that he came to the realisation that life is too short. He embraced his feminine side with the blessing of his wife.
Life is short. I know that as I get older this fact becomes more and more true. I am reaching, literally, middle age and there are probably more days behind me than in front of me. I knew this time was coming but I didn’t think it would affect me as much as it has.
And it got me thinking….OH MY GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE! I pulled out my, slightly dusty, box and rummaged through. Where were all my beautiful clothes? That little black skirt that just went with everything, the headband that held my wig in place perfectly. Oh no, not all the makeup as well. Damn you purger. Didn’t you learn the first two times?
Anyway I have now fully embraced Sarah more than I ever had before. My boxer shorts went into the dusty box and I now wear panties and a bra all day every day. I have booked tickets to go to the annual Crossdressers Ball, with my wife, which will include a new dress, full body wax and professional make up. I also have spent a bit of time online looking at clothes and feminisation which is where I found a link to Crossdresser Heaven. In the last few weeks I have met some amazing ladies and have had unending support. I am writing these articles as a Thank You to all of you in the hope that some of my experiences might help you as your’s have helped me.
With a child and a new house, my disposable income isn’t what it used to be and we have moved too far away for my charity shop scheme to work anymore. So slowly skirt by blouse I am rebuilding my wardrobe. But I’m rebuilding it better than before. The clothes are a bit more age appropriate and the right size for me.
For all my rambling I hope you take from this that life is short. Take chances. Be yourself. And for heaven’s sake please think twice about that next purge.