This is just thought I had out of nowhere earlier in the day and am wondering what other people's thoughts are.
First, let me say that this is from my perspective as a crossdresser, and will probably NOT be relevant at all to transgendered people, for whom crossdressing is just one aspect of their gender identification.
So my thought:
As a crossdresser for almost 50 years now (!!) I feel like I've been constantly chasing a level of satisfaction that I can never reach, resulting in my always wanting more, then after getting it needing more still.
For instance, when I first started just putting on a pair of panties was heaven. In a short amount of time, that became 'normal' and I needed more. Throughout the years, I moved on up the ladder that most of us climb. Panties to skirts, to full outfits, breast forms, to makeup.... eventually leading to the urge to be seen by others, to go out in public, to be accepted.
I've achieved most of these goals and it always ends the same. What is new and exciting quickly becomes 'normal', so off I go looking for the next step.
At this point, I underdress 24/7, wear a skirt or dress almost the entire time I'm home with my SO, have gone out in pubic shopping, etc. But now that all feels normal.
I find myself out of rungs on the ladder. I do NOT want to transition or live 24/7 as a woman. I enjoy being a man. But the plateau I've reached with my crossdressing leaves me wondering "Where do I go from here" and even worse... once I find out, what do I do after THAT?
The only step left for me is to go for acceptance from friends and family, but the cost of that would be higher than I can pay right now so it is not a step I'm ready to take (I know that some might latch on to this point and try to say otherwise, but just trust me... it isn't right for ME at this point in my life).
I know I should be perfectly happy with what I have... and believe me I DO appreciate the things I have, but I guess after 50 years of always moving toward the 'next thing' I feel like I'm kind of stalled now that there IS no next thing.
And in the end, I am left wondering if I would have been better off having more control, trying to keep myself at a level where even the little things (a pair of panties, or a skirt for a stolen few minutes once a week) would have been better.
