When I was growing up I searched for information about cross-dressing and found almost nothing. What I did find treated it as sexual deviancy, either to be cynical manipulated or forcefully condemned. It only served to convince me that I was a sexual deviant and that I should keep my dark secret hidden.
All indications around me told me that the desire to cross-dress was an unspeakable betrayal of society’s values. The despicable thing—and this is most important—was not the wearing of women’s clothes but the desire to do so. As long as I had no desire to wear women’s clothes it was fine, in good humor, to do so but if I wanted to wear women’s clothes I was a reprehensible deviant, even if I never did.
I have for periods in my life successfully resisted the urge to cross-dress but I have never been able to free myself from the desire. The more I resisted, more twisted the desire became. I thought that perhaps if I was forced to cross-dress, against my will, by a woman, then this would not be such a terrible betrayal and my fantasies would increasingly lean this way. But even in these dreams I could not escape quilt, my fantasy woman would always know the truth and denigrate me for it and I too would know the truth and would feel that I deserved denigration.
I did not think I was being suppressed by an unjust prejudice, I thought I was fooling society into thinking I was a decent person when in fact I was not. For anyone who wonders why I did not tell my wife about my cross-dressing before we got married, let me tell you, it would have been preferable to me that everyone but her know about it. Because, though I might brow beat society into reluctantly allowing me a living despite my deviancy, how could I expect anyone to love me?
I can’t describe the dark despair I felt, holding in the secret of my desire to cross-dress. If you’ve felt something similar you may understand the feelings that I refer to. I’d guess many of you do. In fact, I’m desperately hoping that you do. Like most human being I want to be understood. For such a long time I was convinced that no one could possibly understand me, after all I didn’t understand myself.
As an adult I looked around for some help to understand myself and I came across this (It's not much help but it is interesting):
The American Psychiatric Association Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV-TR) lists Transvestic Fetishism; it’s in the section on sexual and gender identity disorders, right after Sexual Sadism and right before Voyeurism. The diagnostic criteria for Transvestic Fetishism are:
A. Over a period of at least 6 months, in a heterosexual male, recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors involving cross-dressing.
B. The fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.
To qualify for this disorder both A. and B. must be true.
I certainly qualify for part A. but I don’t qualify for part B. because I have always kept part A. a secret. If, however, I choose not to keep part A. a secret, it is very likely that I would then qualify for part B. Do you see the dilemma here? It’s a Catch 22 situation. What this diagnosis suggests is that as long as I keep my cross-dressing a secret I don’t have a mental disorder but if I’m open and honest about it then I do have a mental disorder. Does that make any sense?
By the way, it’s worth noting that until 1973 the DSM listed homosexuality as a mental disorder.
Has anyone else struggled to reconcile a cross-dresser’s Catch 22?