Originally Posted by
AndiGirl
I hope this story isn’t too long or boring but I think it illustrates many of the quirks of fate that can befall a crossdresser. Maybe it’s very familiar to the rest of you and I just think it’s unique to me.
When I was 8 years old I had my first encounter with dressing. I found a box of my aunts clothes stored in our shed. When I opened it there was a pair of white high-heeled sandals starring at me. I don’t know why but I just had to try them on. A year later my mom tried to get me to dress as a girl for a Halloween party but I adamantly refused due to all kinds of fears including the fear that I might like it. Over the next several years I didn’t try to dress and didn’t think about it either. At the age of 12 I began to be interested and intrigued again by women’s clothes. One day when my folks went shopping I explored my mom’s things and put on a bra, panties, skirt, sweater and her red high heels. A rush came over me and I felt delightfully lightheaded. As I lay on the bed looking at my “breasts” I suddenly and thoroughly wet my panties. This was the first time I had had that experience and it felt so wonderful. Needless to say I looked for every opportunity after that to pretend and get that special feeling again.
When I went off to college the dressing ceased because I lived with a roommate in a dorm. I got married in my junior year to a sweet, attractive woman who liked to wear dresses and high heels. After two years of dating we decided to marry. She had no clue about the other me. We moved her things into an apartment the week before the wedding and I couldn’t resist sampling. Imagine my surprise to find that many of her things fit perfectly. After the wedding, I didn’t dress again thinking it was the right thing to do, as I was finishing school while she worked to support us. One night we were talking and playing around and out of the blue she said, “I wonder what you would look like as a girl?” I played coy and slightly uncooperative while inside me my heart was racing a mile a minute. Finally I let her have her way and she went to work – panties, bra (filled with grapefruits), stockings, slip, skirt, sweater, makeup, jewelry, and of course high heels! I was so excited I thought I would pass out. After an hour or two we had to undo everything and return to “normal” whatever that was at this point. A few nights later as I was feverishly studying I commented how calming being dressed was and how I was much more able to concentrate on the school material. To my surprise she let me dress myself in her things again and this began a regular occurrence. As they say once the genie is out of the bottle how do you get him/her back in? As time went on she began to buy me things on her own, makeup, dresses, shoes and even a wig. One night as we were leaving for the show she asked if she could borrow a pair of MY heels. I wasn’t dressed but I was so flattered and proud to be her girlfriend. Even though I never went out of the apartment as a girl, I was having a ball and since she was shopping with me and alone for me I thought she was very supportive. Wrong!
After I graduated I got a very good job with a fortune 500 top ten company. The dressing time quickly came to virtual standstill due to my wife’s sudden change in attitude about dressing at home and I didn’t want to jeopardize my career by doing it somewhere else. I managed a few evenings alone in the spare bedroom but when my wife became pregnant with our first child she said the dressing had to stop, the stuff I owned had to be purged and she didn’t ever want my femme self in her life again. I was in a real bad way; caught between my love for her, my new responsibilities of provider/father to be and the other self I so much wanted to be. There really wasn’t a selfish choice to be made so I did as she said and bottled my desires/feelings deep inside. Forty years later, with only a few isolated ventures to the femme side, the kids have all left home and I am now retired. I have more alone time now and since I don’t have to get up early each day for work my time to be me is late at night when my wife is asleep. I have procured a small stash again– 1 set of undies, one skirt, one top, a little makeup, clip-on earrings and 2 pair of 4” heels. I don’t think she suspects and she is still dead set against crossdressing yet ironically she is openly supportive of gay and transgender rights.
Don’t get me wrong by the tone of this story. My situation is not my wife’s fault. She’s a wonderful woman in all regards and I’m very lucky to have found her. I made the choices along the way on my own. Although I have lived with those choices all these years, I can’t help but feel like I’ve missed out on something. I’m glad I discovered this forum and I appreciate the company the girls here afford each other. It means a lot to a “girl” like me to know I am not the only one who struggled and is struggling with these feelings.
Was this too much information?