There’s not much to post about around here, is there? It seems to be all about breastforms, SO’s, therapists, and depression. What’s a boy/girl to do? Let’s see...
I'll start with breastforms, or breast forms, as my word processor insists on seeing it. I have some forms, but they aren’t the focus of my existence. I’m not wearing any right now. It’s HOT, and I’m trying to stay cool. Besides, tornados are coming – do I have to be shapely when the time comes? Being a boy, I like breasts, and it can be thrilling to approximate them in my femme presentation, but let’s not go overboard. I did dream about breasts last night, but not forms...
SO’s? I don’t have one, unless you can call my sister a significant other. She’s all I have at present, and I’m all that she has. We live at the tip of a branch of our family tree, and we are both sawing it off even as I’m typing this. She knows I dress, and she’s seen my stuff – she’s even read a few of my writings here at the crossdresser oasis, and she knows what it’s all about. We are mutually supportive, but we give each other plenty of space. I am free to be ME upstairs in the house we share (and own together), but we are merely siblings, thrown together by unforeseen circumstances. BTW, my sister, although on the same wavelength as her odd brother, is nonetheless uneasy about having a crossdresser in her midst, but she doesn’t poke into my affairs at all, i.e. nothing for me to write about...
As for therapists, I have no use for them, and I detest the word therapy. I was forced to undergo therapy for a speech disorder years ago, and this traumatized me into isolation. Oh, the people, mainly women, knew what they were doing, and my “problem” was easily identifiable, but the whole process made me feel defective. When everybody treated me as an equal, with no hint of therapy in the offing, I did OK, and I eventually emerged from my shell. In my mind, there is no need for therapists, and I have never encountered, nor wanted, a therapist to “help” my crossdressing “problem.” I love to crossdress, and it’s not a problem, any more than enjoying ice cream is a problem. Besides, I don’t trust so-called experts on crossdressing. People who think they’re part of the solution are often part of the problem, and that problem is intolerance...
I don’t get depressed. It’s not in my make-up. I have plenty to be depressed about, but I seem to see only good things, or possibilities, in the darkest of times. Oh, I can get a little depressed now and then, maybe for 5 minutes or so, but it quickly passes, and then I return to my ebullient self. The fact that I keep posting on this site is proof I don’t get too “down” about things. Others feel I live a charmed life, but this is how I want it to be, and life is what you make it. Depression has been woven into my life via contact with others. I had a girlfriend who suffered with depression, and, since part of my family history includes depression, I’ve come to see it as natural, or at least inevitable. However, depression is not part and parcel of my need (or urge) to crossdress. Quite the opposite, I’m here to say, and if I don’t have the opportunity to crossdress, I don’t get depressed about it. It WILL happen, and, in any event, I like to delay pleasure...
In my mind, crossdressing should be a happy thing, with personal happiness in mind, and not a sad, depressive thing that sends one scurrying to the nearest therapist. If you have a SO, and she doesn’t like what you’re doing, do it anyway – perhaps she is open to compromise. I know, it’s a hard thing to explain, especially when you’re wearing breastforms, but smiling will help...
Are you a HAPPY crossdresser?
This was written very quickly, as I nervously scanned the Kansas skies for approaching tornados, so don’t take it too seriously, OK?
Originally Posted by Frédérique
