The Pink Fog and a shopping trip with my best friend
Hello Girls, Please bear with me as this might be a long one. About a week ago, the Pink Fog hit me like a Falcon Heavy lifting off from the Cape. I was in a funk for several days. Dressing was ALL I could think of. After a few days my wife asked what was bothering me. Why was I so distracted? So I told her I was in the depths of a major fog. I tried to explain it to her. She had known about my 'secret' for many years and has been supportive. I could not find the right words, so I went to my home office and typed the following.
The Pink Fog
It hits without warning. It can be an image in a magazine, on TV, or someone in the grocery store. All of a sudden you must at all costs explore your femme side. When the fog hits, it stays for as long as it wants. And there is nothing you can do about it. It can last a hour, a day, or weeks. And as I said, there is nothing you can do about it. Accept shop and dress up.
It effects cross dressers and trans people in a variety of different ways. Here are a few examples, and my thoughts on each.
(In my own experience, once you let yourself free to learn and explore CDing and truly accept yourself a lot of the compulsion goes away. Separate from that, I had lapses of pink fog and that has slowly dropped as I feel more comfortable with myself (I notice this is parallel to other issues in my life where certain obligations used to really stress me, but now I've learned to not worry as much)...when I look back, I see CDing as an escape. I still enjoy the challenge in it, but not for the same reasons.)
This person must dress more than I do. I have been reading all I can about the subject and still do not understand it. I bet I could make a shrink rich.
(I get into this super depressive moods swings where I hate myself, my life and cannot stand to be around anybody. But then the fog lifts and I realize how blessed I am to have a supportive wife and a loving family. I love my profession and enjoy the people I work with. The fog totally obscure any logic and can be exhausting as hell.)
I never get depressed about life. Perhaps disappointed that I can not go back and embrace cross dressing for what it is. And maybe obtaining more understanding about who and what I am. Sometimes I get a feeling of time wasted in the closet.
(When it hits me I go shopping and try on clothes. lasts for a few days about once a month.)
Lucky girl
(To me, it is the partial or complete loss of control caused by thinking and wanting to be en femme. People tend to purchase too much, think only of themselves and their femme life, ignore others and can really cause them to be a real pain in the ass to some other people, especially SO's, family and friends.)
It is hard not to go overboard, as the feeling is just too damn strong for some of us.
(For me, the pink fog is where I cannot think about anything other than being dressed and/or buying more stuff for myself.)
Yes, I understand the consuming thoughts about shopping for cloths and make up.
(I have it. I barely can handle it when I walk by the cosmetic counter and the girly clothes at department stores. It just feels so right to have shaved legs and to be fem.)
Yes, it's hard for me to walk through the stores. You have a need to reach out and touch everything. There is a joy I get when I shop for lingerie. Part is the feel of the fabrics, and the style. Another part is the anticipation. You don't get those feelings shopping on line. (Although it is easier) You do not get the anticipation of going home and unwrapping the new found bounty. Slipping something on and feeling like that girl you've always wanted to be. It's like when the quarterback throws that long touchdown pass, or the kid comes off the bench and hits the winning shot.
(I have had pink fog for a few weeks now. I can't wait to get home and put on my panties. I've ordered some things on line and the anxiety of them arriving has put butterflies in my tummy. It feels sooo good. I will admit though I have neglected others. I just can't find that balance.)
Butterflies, you bet. It flutters through me when ever I enter a store. But I can not resist the urge to walk by the women's section.
And my favorite, and most like myself.
(I definitely experience an intense pink fog. When I am in the fog, like you, I want to just stay a girl forever. I feel as if this is how am supposed to feel..in short, feeling pretty, innocent, EXTREMELY FEMININE(duh), very happy, sensual, etc. Everything just clicks and I do not want the fog to go away. It is amazing how different my female persona is from my male one even though there are many similarities too. It is almost if I am "acting", but it feels so real, natural, and feels like this is the real me. The fog lasts anywhere from a week to a month, then I settle down and go back to being in male mode more. Then it happens again out of nowhere. I actually enjoy this cycle, because I am able to feel the "euphoria" all over again and do not get "used" to it, even though, like I said earlier, when my girl persona is really clicking I don't ever want to leave it. Ahh...this life.)
One sentence really gets me. 'I feel as if this is how am supposed to feel..in short, feeling pretty, innocent, EXTREMELY FEMININE(duh), very happy, sensual, etc.' That explains it for me. The need to be who I really am, even for a short time. It is a feeling of contentment that we cross dressers rarely feel. Then we go back to reality. But it is so much fun to have a fantasy. Even for a moment. It hurts no one.
This is how 'the fog' affects me.
The Pink Fog does not make me want to wear panties. I wear them most of the time now. Most times I don't even think about it as it has become a part of me. One difference is I move from straight white nylon panties to something a little more risqué. But when you get 'the fog', it is an all consuming need, (notice I did not say desire) to be as feminine as possible for as long as possible. We want to wear the cloths, the make up and the jewelry. You become the addict, and you must get a fix.
This time, the trigger was a pair of ear rings. Once it was a Victoria Secret ad on TV. Years ago, I saw a group of girls at the mall. I could not wait to go shopping. And I did.
The trigger can come in any form. I stopped at a mall years ago to go to the bookstore. While walking through the mall, I noticed a fragrance. It could have come from a store, or even a passerby. I have no idea from where it originated. It engulfed me and I remember looking up and seeing a department store. I smiled as I went in. I soon emerged with a huge bag of panties, slips, bras, and hose. I had no intention of shopping for girl things that day. All I wanted was a damn book. I never made it to the bookstore.
I ran to my truck. I could not wait to get home and feel the softness against me. I remember being at a stop light and looking down at the huge shopping bag. I noticed a white strap hanging out. Butterflies churned inside of me. It must be what a drug addict feels when he needs a fix. I needed one.
Sometimes 'the fog' comes out of nowhere. You have no idea what triggers it. All you know if that you must address the need to be feminine.
When it hits, it is all you can think of. The only way to avoid the constant itch is to keep busy on something else. Sometimes that doesn't help.
Several years ago, I was in the depth of a major Pink Fog. My wife's best friend who has known about my dressing for many years, came over and did a make over for me. I was scared to death as I was dressed the whole time. I had never dressed in front of anyone except my wife. But the tug from the fog was too much to put under. I was committed to doing this. From the moment she walked in the house, she put me at ease. She never stared at me, or laughed. She taught me a lot about make up and was very supportive. It was the girl friend I always dreamed about. Someone to talk to, and share with. I felt comfortable like never before. It was the best day.
With my wife's blessing, I had my ears pierced several years ago, and let my hair grow out. Not liking studs, I use dangling ear rings when I can. I love how they feel when I turn my head. The bigger the better. Usually I remove them after a dressing session and move on with my life. But this time it was different.
I took them off when I went to bed and the thoughts started. I thought about how I wanted (as a teen) to be one of the many girls in my Junior High. The bras, the slips, and my god, the hose. Not to mention the hair, make up, and jewelry. You wish you had someone to talk to, some one to share your pain. Someone to tell you, 'it's OK to be this way.' And someone to share cloths. Since I had none of those things, I thought I was living in hell.
I always hated the boys around me, but still played the role of teen rebel. But how I wanted to be one of those girls. I understood them. I liked them, and most of all I wanted to be them. Then I woke up in the middle of the night with this drastic desire to dress. And I did. It was wonderful.
Scene one: Two guys out to eat, and a pretty young girl walks by. Guy number one is thinking
'She is so damn hot. Boy would I like to...' Guy number two is thinking, 'I wonder if that is a front close bra or a back closed one. And boy would I like to wear that short skirt she has on. She is so damn lucky. I love the way she walks, and I want that hair. I wish I could be her for just a day.'
I am guy number two.
Scene two: You are walking through the department store. The smells of all the new cloths and make up counters come from all directions. You see some ladies over at the make up counter talking to the sales associate about what make up they should use. You want to be one of them. You want to ask those questions. And most of all, you want the make up. You want to look pretty. You want to be that woman. Then you walk through the lingerie department. Cautiously looking over your shoulder to see of anyone is staring. Then your eyes gaze on the rows of panties and bras. You want to try them all on.
The dress department is next. All the pretty dresses and tops of all styles. However at five eleven and two sixty you know damn well that none of them will fit. Your smile fades. Welcome to my life.
I have dressed in front of my wife, and she has been very supportive. I would do it more but I frankly look like a huge guy in a dress. I don't want to subject her to that picture. I can barely tolerate it myself.
It is all encompassing. It is all you can think about. And I really believe that cross dressers like myself spend more time in the fog, then out of it. At least I do. Maybe it is the older I get, the less time I have to enjoy it.
I spent forty years in the closet, with this person constantly screaming to get out. But times were different in the sixties. I thought I was alone and knew there was something terribly wrong with me. We had no INTERNET, no research that I was aware of. I had no one to talk to about it. My father would have killed me, or at least not talked to me forever. And I was afraid to talk to my mother. She would have told my father and sent me to a shrink. And shrinks in those days did not embrace Cross Dressers or trans people. Then I read a news story about Christine Jorgenson. I finally realized that I was not alone. But I stayed in the closet. It wasn't until I had to admit the cross dressing to my wife twenty five years ago, that I felt free. But only a little. It has been an up and down time for me.
The middle of the night dressing did not help the fog. Like the bands of fog rolling into San Francisco, I can't stop it. And when it hits, my only option is to roll with the flow. I can look at cloths on the web, check out my cross dressing group on line, and go shopping. But best of all is I get to doll myself up and experiment with my femininity. I know I am not very good at it but as long as I don't look in a mirror, I can live with it.
So, what's next?
I will continue to roll in and out of the fog. I will continue to explore the other side of me. I will look forward to the fog lifting. Then I will look forward to its return.
I will continue to be who I am.
I just hope I don't go too far.
After she read it, we had another long talk, perhaps the best of our long life together.
She asked me what I meant about 'going too far.' I told her I did not want to shove my dressing down her throat. Her reply was "I like it when you dress."
After a long discussion, she smiled and said, "I think you need a shopping trip." I smiled, then she added a 'but'. She smiled again and said, "You have a ton of girl things that are either out of style or don't fit anymore. Let's do a purge, and then go shopping."
We spent the rest of the day purging my wardrobe. I tried everything on, and she commented on each outfit. At the end of the day I had two LARGE bags full of cloths to donate. (It was a GOOD type of purge)
To make a LONG story shorter, the next day we headed off for our 'girl' day. We looked at everything at the mall and large discount outlets.
I now have a ton of new things to try from panties to ear rings. And everything in between. It was the best day ever, and she wants to go again.
A great way to celebrate the FOG. And I have decided to celebrate it not stress over it.
Thanks for bearing with me.
P.S. I still have the Fog
