[SIZE="2"]Reluctance shapes my life. I was reluctant to be a boy, I was reluctant to be a teenage male, and I’m reluctant to be a man, whatever definition of “man” you ascribe to. I was reluctant to “join in” and be like everyone else. I crossdress to express this reluctance. For one thing, I’m reluctant to wear THAT, whatever drab piece of male attire it may be, and I’m reluctant to submerge my “self” just to put everyone at ease. Needless to say, as a MtF crossdresser, I’m reluctant to show myself, put myself in harm’s way, or otherwise paint a target on my pretty dress. However, I’m reluctant to stay in the closet, so I maintain a precarious balance between in here and out there...
I was reluctant to tell anyone about my crossdressing, but I did, and this managed to make me even more reluctant, if that was at all possible. Yup, I reluctantly told three different women that I like to wear women’s clothing for pleasure, and I got three different responses. They were very reluctant to accept my disclosure, even though they knew I was not 100% masculine, not 75% masculine, nor even 50% masculine at best. Something was going on, but they were reluctant to grasp a concept that exists outside the realm of probability, but very much within the realm of the senses. I was not reluctant to go as far as I could with my dressing-up, but I soon found out that I had gone TOO far for everyone concerned...
Back in the day, I was reluctant to accept the fact that I was a transvestite, but I eventually embraced it. I mean, I was reluctant to try on a wig, or paint my lips, or dangle something dainty from my male earlobes, but I did – I somehow overcame my initial reluctance and got in touch with feelings I had reluctantly submerged during my youth. Reluctance gave way to joy, and I let HER out to play, albeit reluctantly at first. I was reluctant to display myself, but I wasn’t reluctant to look at my transformed self – in doing so, I reluctantly thought about the connotations and associations that my blessed crossdressing might represent. These I reluctantly tucked away, along with other things, but they bubble to the surface now and then like (reluctant) geysers. Slowly, but not so reluctantly, I found I could look like a woman, but I was reluctant to actually BE one...
Reluctantly, I joined discussion forums for crossdressers, slipping myself between other reluctant participants, each with their own levels of reluctance, and I began to post a few things. The latter had nothing to do with reluctance, I should say, but I struggled to find my “place” amongst my peers. I quickly came face-to-face with my reluctance to wear female undergarments (it’s a LONG story), but I overcame my reluctant behavior and became a much more well-rounded individual (pardon the pun). I was reluctant to reach out to others, but I did, meeting other reluctant girls along the way, and sharing my stories of reluctance with anyone and everyone. As it turns out, MtF crossdressing is a reluctant enterprise, a difficult undertaking in an increasingly hostile world – the world we live in is reluctant to accept males who have certain “shortcomings,” you know...
It’s nice to be here, on this site, and I am reluctant to leave. Over time, I’ve become very reluctant to leave the confines of the MtF section, since doing so will highlight my lack of knowledge or experience in other “areas.” I’m reluctant to post where I’m not wanted, and, even though I may have an enlightening piece of information for someone on the other side of the “wall,” I’m reluctant to leave my allotted compound and make contact. I’m also reluctant to respond to certain things, like questions from GG’s, exasperated pleas for help emanating from difficult marital or familial situations, or impassioned declarations against something as benign as MtF crossdressing. Maybe I’m reluctant to have my head handed to me...
Lately, I’ve become reluctant to write about the beauty of crossdressing, or the magic I feel whenever I transform from M to F purely for the joy of it. Can you feel my reluctance? It hurts. I’m reluctant by nature, but, for some reason, I’m NEVER reluctant to crossdress, and I never will be. Why? Well, I’m reluctant to say...
Reluctantly yours, Freddy
Are you now, or have you ever been, a reluctant individual?
PS – This post was inspired by, and is dedicated to, my new friend ReluctantDebutante... [/SIZE]
