Rachael Jones
02-12-2013, 04:46 PM
A big thank you to all you lovely ladies, you are an inspiration and support in many many ways. For that you get a little story:
Once upon a time there was a shy young boy, born hard-of-hearing in one ear. As a consequence of this, he never had a large amount of friends, being slightly limited in social interaction. By no means backwards or slow, he was in fact rather intelligent, gaining excellent reading, writing and spelling skills. This intellectual mindset made him like by the girls, who in turn trusted and respected him because of, I would presume, his lack of boyish mannerisms.
Fast forward a few years. This boy is now ten. He is still the quiet, shy, reserved type, and continues to have few friends. He does have friends, but they are few yet close and trusted. On his own he imagines himself the shyest person in the world. His desire to escape the boyhood finds a release in the clothes of girls. Having no access to any, for he had no sister yet, he would raid his mothers wardrobe and play dress up, firstly experimenting with the tights, fitting smoothly against his skin.
Later, he would put on dresses, twirling in front of the wardrobe mirror. For some reason, in his mind, nobody must ever know.
As the teens hit, he has occasionally been dipping into the lingerie, trying out knickers, bra and even sometimes more racier items. He imagines himself a woman, sultry, seductive and sensual.
School finishes. He enrolls to a college. Aiming to enter one specific profession, he finds himself the only boy on the course. A friend is doing the same course, but it a year ahead. This gives him an advantage in learning, and also allows him to relax around the company of so many fine young ladies. Although they interest him in terms of friendships, he is not interested in a relationship.
College is passed, barely. Having sever insomnia, bored with the course, he quits after the first year, then due to recession, is moved with parents 175 miles away from everything. All this before his 18th birthday. During this time, he becomes depressed, and finds solace in cider, which in turn progresses to more stronger alcohol, finally developing a taste for Whisky.
No dressing up has been done for a few years now, this young man, in the prime of life, is cut down by depression, drink and solitude. Although for many years he had craved this solitude, it was without any real friendships at all.
A job opportunity comes up, and the man is now employed. He throws himself into this job for nearly eleven years, and enjoys it immensely. He is liked by staff and customers, and develops those few close friendships once more. He even finds faith in Christianity, but is something he would struggle with for many years to come.
Occasionally, he would relapse into alcohol, and then subsequently depression. On a whim, he even tries to find comfort in dressing again, but this is not the time yet. He purchases lingerie, latex fetish wear, and enjoying the experience, still finds something lacking.
Again, after this brief flirtation with dressing up once more the darkness falls.
Having joined a church, he gains the trust of someone, whom he respects and admires. He tells him of his childhood secrets, and is labeled as a sinful thing to have happened. A course of prayer, deliverance must ensue. So, in my foolishness of Christian youth, I agree. The 'demons' are banished. I am lifted from the curse of cross dressing, from impure thoughts, from depression itself.
It seems to have worked. He stops dressing up, stops it at the urge stages. He tries to stop drinking, and fails miserably.
Years later, almost six years pass before anything else significant happens. He meets a lovely woman. In love, but there are complications. No children. Despite this, they marry, and continue to be so until this day. Desires for dressing start to creep in again, and finally he succumbs.
The issue of cross dressing rears its head again when he finds support on a forum (naming no names here :-) ) - the encouragement is fantastic to him, that there are other people out there who have struggled, continue to struggle and found comfort in the pleasant clothing of the opposite gender.
However, this is in secret - the woman he married would seek to have me 'delivered' from this, the people with whom he attends the church would do the same. To cross the boundaries of gender, with the exception of drag queens, is taboo to all. Discussions on the topics related to this have yielded little fruit or success.
His depression is lifted when he lifts up that skirt and thinks 'This really suits my legs' or even in the simpler pleasures of running water across the backs of his freshly-shaved hands. His encouragement is from the many other girls on this forum whom he has read, replied and contributed to. His self-esteem is boosted knowing who he is now. He has stopped biting his nails, wanting to grow them, he pays attention to what he eats, drinks - even stopping the rampant abuse of alcohol.
Maybe one day, he will reveal all, maybe everything will remain in secret - the decision is ultimately his, and he knows it. The risks are laid out clearly in front of him.
No longer a shadow waiting in the wings, the lure of the skirt, the feel of stockings, the tucking away of the male and becoming as feminine as he can muster provides an ocean of calm in a storm of masculinity.
xXx
Rachael
PS - feel free to respond, I only wrote this as a way of getting my past out of my system, it's really the first time I've been able to express myself to people who would understand.
Once upon a time there was a shy young boy, born hard-of-hearing in one ear. As a consequence of this, he never had a large amount of friends, being slightly limited in social interaction. By no means backwards or slow, he was in fact rather intelligent, gaining excellent reading, writing and spelling skills. This intellectual mindset made him like by the girls, who in turn trusted and respected him because of, I would presume, his lack of boyish mannerisms.
Fast forward a few years. This boy is now ten. He is still the quiet, shy, reserved type, and continues to have few friends. He does have friends, but they are few yet close and trusted. On his own he imagines himself the shyest person in the world. His desire to escape the boyhood finds a release in the clothes of girls. Having no access to any, for he had no sister yet, he would raid his mothers wardrobe and play dress up, firstly experimenting with the tights, fitting smoothly against his skin.
Later, he would put on dresses, twirling in front of the wardrobe mirror. For some reason, in his mind, nobody must ever know.
As the teens hit, he has occasionally been dipping into the lingerie, trying out knickers, bra and even sometimes more racier items. He imagines himself a woman, sultry, seductive and sensual.
School finishes. He enrolls to a college. Aiming to enter one specific profession, he finds himself the only boy on the course. A friend is doing the same course, but it a year ahead. This gives him an advantage in learning, and also allows him to relax around the company of so many fine young ladies. Although they interest him in terms of friendships, he is not interested in a relationship.
College is passed, barely. Having sever insomnia, bored with the course, he quits after the first year, then due to recession, is moved with parents 175 miles away from everything. All this before his 18th birthday. During this time, he becomes depressed, and finds solace in cider, which in turn progresses to more stronger alcohol, finally developing a taste for Whisky.
No dressing up has been done for a few years now, this young man, in the prime of life, is cut down by depression, drink and solitude. Although for many years he had craved this solitude, it was without any real friendships at all.
A job opportunity comes up, and the man is now employed. He throws himself into this job for nearly eleven years, and enjoys it immensely. He is liked by staff and customers, and develops those few close friendships once more. He even finds faith in Christianity, but is something he would struggle with for many years to come.
Occasionally, he would relapse into alcohol, and then subsequently depression. On a whim, he even tries to find comfort in dressing again, but this is not the time yet. He purchases lingerie, latex fetish wear, and enjoying the experience, still finds something lacking.
Again, after this brief flirtation with dressing up once more the darkness falls.
Having joined a church, he gains the trust of someone, whom he respects and admires. He tells him of his childhood secrets, and is labeled as a sinful thing to have happened. A course of prayer, deliverance must ensue. So, in my foolishness of Christian youth, I agree. The 'demons' are banished. I am lifted from the curse of cross dressing, from impure thoughts, from depression itself.
It seems to have worked. He stops dressing up, stops it at the urge stages. He tries to stop drinking, and fails miserably.
Years later, almost six years pass before anything else significant happens. He meets a lovely woman. In love, but there are complications. No children. Despite this, they marry, and continue to be so until this day. Desires for dressing start to creep in again, and finally he succumbs.
The issue of cross dressing rears its head again when he finds support on a forum (naming no names here :-) ) - the encouragement is fantastic to him, that there are other people out there who have struggled, continue to struggle and found comfort in the pleasant clothing of the opposite gender.
However, this is in secret - the woman he married would seek to have me 'delivered' from this, the people with whom he attends the church would do the same. To cross the boundaries of gender, with the exception of drag queens, is taboo to all. Discussions on the topics related to this have yielded little fruit or success.
His depression is lifted when he lifts up that skirt and thinks 'This really suits my legs' or even in the simpler pleasures of running water across the backs of his freshly-shaved hands. His encouragement is from the many other girls on this forum whom he has read, replied and contributed to. His self-esteem is boosted knowing who he is now. He has stopped biting his nails, wanting to grow them, he pays attention to what he eats, drinks - even stopping the rampant abuse of alcohol.
Maybe one day, he will reveal all, maybe everything will remain in secret - the decision is ultimately his, and he knows it. The risks are laid out clearly in front of him.
No longer a shadow waiting in the wings, the lure of the skirt, the feel of stockings, the tucking away of the male and becoming as feminine as he can muster provides an ocean of calm in a storm of masculinity.
xXx
Rachael
PS - feel free to respond, I only wrote this as a way of getting my past out of my system, it's really the first time I've been able to express myself to people who would understand.