In order to feel guilt you have to do something bad that is injurious to another. When I dabbled in my mother's lingerie draw I felt excitement (That I acted upon) followed by self loathing and shame that I liked wearing her clothing. In the 1960's I was told that men who wore women's clothing were gay, although the words were vulgar and crude. I'm in the same boat as "alwayshave;" Damned to hell for every little transgression. I did feel guilt when I snapped the shoulder strap of my mother's sole black bra; also terror of the confrontation that never came.
If I was an active cross dresser when I met and married my wife I probably would have been guilty of withholding vital information. I wasn't. Those were days in the distant past; Way past the days of slogging through the muck of Nam as an infantryman. How manly can you be, humping six weeks at a time, sleeping on the ground, drinking rice patty runoff, getting wounded twice and medivaced. Yep, in the past......until. When our bedroom play progressed to more than it was, there was "The Talk." Yes, she said had she know she would not have married me for some societal transgressions six years in the past. Well, let's talk about laying out all the cards. She told me she wished she had NOT told me some of the details of her past. Yep, there were more surprises to come from her. She said, after thinking about it that she could not hold my failure to deep dive into my past against me because she did the same thing. Oh, the value of mutually shared nuclear destruction! Guilt? It's only a word.
