[SIZE="2"]I’m beginning to think I should be more secretive, and withhold my precious crossdressing, keeping it near and dear to my heart. I have learned to suppress my desire to dress simply by being at college most of the time, unable to wear feminine outer-garments among my fellow students. They wouldn’t hurt me, nor would they make fun of me (I think). I feel the need to hide away and delay pleasure for a later, more personal time, but, by the same token, I feel the need to express myself.
Case in point: on Thanksgiving Day I went to my grandmother’s house for dinner with my family. I was going to write about this at the time, but I felt a bit shy about it. My aunt, who I live with, didn’t feel well enough to go this year, so I was her representative. I think she did this on purpose to give me the opportunity to confront my mother. I talk to my mother all the time on the phone, mainly about school, but she hadn’t actually seen me for a while. I decided to dress up a little and “come out” in a more exaggerated way, even though my presentation was rather reserved.
I should explain that my family knows about my homosexuality, but crossdressing is something beyond their comprehension. Armed with knowledge and wisdom I’ve picked up from this site, I arrived at my grandmother’s house at the appointed time for Thanksgiving dinner. I wore a red kilt (which looks just like a skirt), with black tights, a pair of women’s shoes with low heels, and an attractive female sweater. My hair is long, so I fashioned it into a ponytail, and I wore some cute earrings, along with the barest hint of makeup. Most of my relatives were OK with my overall appearance, but I sensed a certain reticence on their part. Everybody smiled, with a “get a load of him” look on their faces. Nobody reached out to me, but I wasn’t expecting anything. The children (my nieces and nephews) giggled, but I just giggled back – they all like me, no matter how I look. It’s strange. Everyone in my family is seemingly OK with my effeminate nature, as long as I dress as a male. As soon as I dress the way I wish to dress, which only seems natural, most of them get uncomfortable and distant. There are exceptions, of course, but I feel sad that this happens.
I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, helping my grandmother with the presentation of the meal. I brought things to the table, and then enjoyed the sumptuous dinner with everyone else. I sat opposite my mother, and she studied me with a curious, knowing expression. My father was there, too, but he is neutral about what I do, or what I am, or what I want to be – my mother is the sticking point. After dinner I helped clean up, and I once again stayed in the kitchen, wearing a cute apron as I washed dishes. My grandmother hugged me for my efforts! Eventually, I was cornered by my mother, and she asked me about my semi-feminine wardrobe. I explained to her that I was expressing myself, and she’s going to have to get used to it. She wanted to discuss my open crossdressing, asking the same questions that everyone else asks, and I struggled to give her sensible answers, adjusting my responses to her lack of education about the subject. I’m not sure if it was worth the effort, but I tried.
Crossdressing is hard to explain, but I got the feeling that my mother is beginning to understand what her son is all about. She didn’t admonish me, nor did she wish to discuss the issue any further. To my surprise, and at a loss for words, she hugged me and said, “I love you.” I hugged back, of course. My mother has always had problems with my sexual orientation, but I think the crossdressing was the frosting on the cake, either confirming her worst fears, or lightening the mood in some strange way. The thing is, I wish it was more secretive and less “out there” for all concerned, but I can’t help it. I chose to do this, but I’m wondering why I did it. Perhaps I just wanted some attention. I’m beginning to see that crossdressing is indeed a precious, magical thing, something I would like to pull back and embrace, just for me. Unfortunately, it’s far too late, and I feel lonely and isolated again. Secrecy really is power, and I feel powerless. What do you think I should do?[/SIZE]