Many years ago, I went though a bit of a life crisis. I basically almost died three different times in a three year period due to an adult onset illness and this brought my life into a clarity and focus I hadn't previously had. It was around this time, after I had recovered and gotten my health back on track, that I came out to my wife about my secret, lifelong desires to cross dress. She was not thrilled. As I was clearing the room with those I love the most and baring open all of my life secrets, I decided that maybe I should seek counseling about my unwanted condition. So I found a local therapist who specialized in LGBT issues and sexual identity and set about fixing myself.
The first hour with my therapist went by in what seemed like seconds. I had never discussed this part of me with anyone. It was as if a floodgate had opened and I was addressing a part of me I had only ever tried to bury deep and hope desperately it would just go away. She told me this would never go away so I needed to come to terms with myself and accept who I was. As I attended more sessions, my therapist tried to reason with me that cross dressing wasn't really that big of a deal. The person I am is the person I have always been. I wasn't hurting anybody. It's not really that un common. It certainly doesn't make me a bad person...All true. So while in the therapy office, that all made sense to me and I felt a little better...for a bit. But even though it was the truth, it didn't change a thing.
After I left the office, I went home to my wife. My wife who loved me and was now repelled by the idea of a feminine husband. This was not the man she thought she married. Not the man she fell in love with. This is not the man she was attracted to. This was embarrassing to her. I was embarrassing to her. We struggled. I realized I still couldn't be completely myself with my best friend and the person I loved the most in the world.
And my son. I couldn't be myself around him. Take him to sports practice. Host play dates for his friends at our house. Teach him to be a "socially acceptable", good man. I would be embarrassing to him.
And my job. My hyper aggressive, masculine job. I couldn't be myself there either. Not if I wanted to maintain my social standing there. Not if I wanted to be included there.
So I stopped seeing my therapist. I suppressed this part of myself again. I conformed. I'm the good husband. I'm the good dad. I'm the good employee and I fit in at work. For all of the world to see, I'm a real man's man.
My therapist was right. Cross dressing doesn't hurt anyone. It doesn't make me a bad person. It doesn't make me any less of a person. She was 100% correct...So what?