Early years of guilt feelings with no one to talk with

[Ms Denier]

Being new here to th forum I've read some first crossdressing stories that talk about shame and guilt. I wanted to share my experience with this also....

Oh the shame and guilt of it all growing up and cross dressing in the 50’s and early 60’s.

My guilt feelings of early cross-dressing and wearing my mother’s stockings and heels in secret had many effects on me looking back. My feeling shame and guilty or thinking I was a bad boy I know may even have been a factor to a speech problem of stuttering when I was very young.

My father was a very strong man, WWII vet that had seen it all. My mother a very strict figure that handled punishment her own way with out having to wait till your father gets home. I feared them both and strived to be the good boy.

I guess like many families in the fifties sex was never talked about in my home, and if anyone needed information on the subject it for sure would be me. Hormones were building and I first felt those funny feeling in my tummy at such a young age.

I remember being caught laying on the floor watching TV “wiggling” as my mother called it, doing what boys do when they first discover it feels good to touch and rub it. I remember being yanked up off the floor and over her lap for a hard spanking, and told never to do that or play with myself, if I did it would lead to making it bleed, and bleed so bad you would not be able to stop it.

I was horrified at the thought. I never forgot her words and every time I felt that feeling I fought it dearly. As I got older I would hide in the bathroom, door locked for any wiggling play out of the sight of my mother. Of course the bathroom was also my safe place to wear, touch and worship my mother’s nylons she always had in the hamper or on the towel rods in private.

One day it happened, I was lost in the moment of wiggling on the bathroom floor using my mother’s smooth stockings under me as I loved the sensation more than anything. I lost all feeling in my legs and could hardly breathe as I felt my whole body numb with an experience I could not fathom. Laying there catching my breath is when I first felt that warm wet sensation under me. I was shocked at the sight and discovery and started to panic at the thoughts my mother burned in my head since young, “You will make it bleed!”

I truly had no idea what had just happened and started to cry with the dilemma I had before me. I wanted to run to my mother thinking I hurt myself but the fear of my actions and her response was even more frightening. I saw that my bleeding, or what ever it was had stopped and I quickly hid my mothers stockings into my jean pockets praying my mother would not notice one pair of many of her stockings missing. That night and next couple of days was torture for me thinking my mother might discover her nylons missing, which lucky for me she never did.

Of course I thought less of myself and felt guilty of my actions more than ever as I had done something so wrong and was hiding it. Even in church I was afraid to look up at the alter thinking God knows everything and he saw my actions and what happened. I loved and hated church. I would struggle in church as back in the late 50’s and early 60’s all the women would dress up to the nines. I fought looking at all the women’s legs encased in the sheerest of nylons and beautiful high heels and fought off of my nylon fetish and cross dressing thoughts as best I could.

I was 12 the first time I really was left home alone from not going to school one day. By then my weakness and fetish was in full bloom, hormones heighten to the max. I was able to dress up for hours and find a pleasure that I knew I could not stop or want to.

I guess my desire to wear my mother’s lingerie was even stronger than the fear of my secret being discovered. But I was so careful of every move I made. When ever left home alone and entering my mother’s bedroom I would study the room and make sure everything I touched or moved was returned exactly as I found it. I became quite good at folding my mother’s lingerie back in the drawers. Those silky thin nylon slips, girdles and high heel shoes in the closet were replaced back all in the exact same position and direction. I learned trying to refold nylon stockings back into the boxes was a nightmare and I learned to only wear my mother’s well worn stockings I found in her hamper, as they already would show wear, and even had the garter tab embossed in the stockings welts from her wearing them the full day before. I would even hook my garter tabs in the exact same marked locations left on the stocking welts.

But as careful as one may be I was not perfect. It would be several years later into my early teens before an Aunt discovered my secret. I was able to talk to someone and finally share my deepest secret. But that is another story and chapter in my life. That was also the start of finally feeling somewhat less guilty of my actions and about still being a good person.

When I had children (2 boys) I always said I would be there for them and they would never have to experience what I went through. When I knew they were at that discovery age sexually I made them feel at comfort with information and the normal issues they were feeling.

Wow I’ve may have run on here a little long....sorry.

[Zeta]

Thank you for the comprehensive intro, Ms Denier.

My experience has been very different, with a number of times of hiatus. As a small child I'd wrap myself in my mother's wedding veil or hold her lingerie up to me. As I matured I was able to suppress the interest until I finished college and was able to afford to buy myself women's clothing. The novelty of marriage again suppressed my feminine side but first, the children leaving home to go on their own, then retirement left me free to explore it again.

You were very fortunate to find a sympathetic adult early on.

BTW my mother was even more strictly anti-sex than yours!

Zeta

[Grace]

Ms Denier,

A wonderful story, well told. I relate to a lot of it. Of course, all of our stories are different, but guilt was a huge part of it in the early years. We are probably about the same age, as my first crossdressing took place in 1955 at the age of 7. In my case, my second grade teacher had boys who acted up in class wear headscarves for the rest of the day as punishment.

I remember my intense feeling of both desire and fear when first exposed to this crossdressing manifestation, and it led to me sneaking a scarf from my mother's chest of drawers. Of course, one thing led to another and eventually to full dressing, makeup, etc. But for years, since this was initially equated with punishment, I tried to make myself feel guilty so I would be able to punish myself by dressing up. Then, after my own experience with "wiggling," as you so nicely put it, I'd find myself feeling guilty and ashamed of myself for real. It took me many many years to finally accept that I enjoyed dressing, that I was OK, it was society's weird hangups that were the problem, and I didn't need to associate it with punishment or guilt.

For many years, I had a strong inferiority complex that controlling people picked up on and used to cow me. This was directly related to that intrinsic quality that makes me want to express my femme side in a socially unacceptable way. Fortunately, others saw my gentle side and appreciated it.

At 62, I am comfortable with who I am, but like you, the guilt played a major role throughout my journey through life. I often wonder if I might have made more of my life if I hadn't hamstrung myself with negative self-perception. But of course, such thoughts have no way of being answered, since we are who we are and can't go back and start again. (And, by the way, by most peoples' measure, I have been very successful-- it is just that I know that my potential was always constrained by this feeling that I was not as good a person as I should be. But life goes on.)

Grace

[BrandyB]

Guilt is a HUGE part of being a crossdresser, especially when one I syoung and in the discovery phase. I remember just hating myself so much after I would take off the make-up and dresses when I was younger, swear that I would not do that ever again, that I am a"REAL" man...but, after a few days or weeks, the desire to be my true self was back in full force.
When one finally let's go and learns to love who you are, not who you aren't...this becomes fun and there is no shame...there is nothing wrong, just different.

[Absaroka]

Ms Denier,

Thanks for a well told story of your beginnings.

It never ceases to amaze me just how much fear and guilt some people think they have to impose on others over anything relating to sex.

Zari

[DonnaT]

Quite a hard beginning!

No one discussed sex at my house, so I luckily never had any feelings of guilt about my actions. Fear of getting caught, but no guilt.

[Andrea Elise]

Ms Denier, a well told history.

Guilt, so much of it that I have days when I wonder if I will ever be able to shed the damage of my upbringing.

I don't know that it will be possible.

Does it elevate people, make them feel better, to try to shame others for whatever they percieve to be "not normal"? That, in my experience, seems to be fact.

And God, church... All seeing, all knowing. Right down to the last sub-basement of my soul and the number of hairs on my head.

I am trying to make peace with myself. A more difficult thing than I have ever faced.

I so admire those who seem to be so comfortable within themselves, as that offers me hope in place of my desolation.

Andrea

[Gillian]

Wow, there are some things that you said, you could have been talking about me. The first ejaculation I had left me scared, and with a mess to clean up. Returning everything to its exact location got complicated real fast. I remained scared for about 2 weeks, and then I heard 2 guys talking about sex, and then I figured out what had happened to me. I think that the whole shame and guilt thing is something that we all need to work out in our lifes.
The western culture that we live in needs to have more open and honest dialogue about sex. Shine the light on some of these issues, maybe we will see that it is not such a big deal. I too, have a thing for nylon, and I know that it comes from my starting point. People wonder why I like football jerseys so much. Just look at the nylon content on the label, and I rest my case. Besides, why can't I guy wear nice things also, and if you and I like nylon, so what.
You commented about the loving and hating to go to church. I think that God is more interested in your attitudes and character, than He is in your underwear preferences. The only thing that has ever helped me with my guilt and shame is God's peace and grace.

[Monica Frasier]

Hi Ms. Denier (hmm... 'deny-er'? Of course not! You're here!)

Like some of the others here, I could have done the your name here thing on much of your commentary. Especially the stuttering. And you know, I don't think I ever bothered to figure out not only what caused it, but how and why it stopped.

I've been meaning to do a 'beginnings' post myself. I'm thinking yours may have been the motivation I was looking for!

Hmm... how to distill it down to something that will get read

cheers

~ M _/!

[Absaroka]

There is an all powerful Being who created the universe, told us to love each other and treat each other as we would want to be treated, who is watching us build nukes, fight wars, and allow a signifigant portion of humanity to needlessly starve to death. S/he's terribly concerned about a dress code..........

When sex was inextribly linked to reproduction it was important to have a bunch of rules about sex. It's probably still important to have some rules more than do unto others......although I'm not sure what they might be. However along the way it's been discovered that if you can control people sexually, you can control them in all other ways. The same is true of course with things like food, but in our society at least we have sort of progressed beyond controlliing people by starving them.

Zari

[BrandyB]

Trust is a huge thing...you have to know you can trust the person you plan on telling if you are still closeted. About 20 years ago before I met my wife I was going with a great girl, or so I thought....I felt I could tell her anything, she hung on my every word, so I started thinking about telling her as I had never told anyone.
One day I decided I would tell her and I did and she was great about it, but she had issues...very possesive, very needy and we were both young...the relationship started to fall apart and I started distancing myself from her. I met another girl who I ended up with for 3 years, but I still had to end the other relationship.
This was very difficult, i went to see her and tell her that we both knew things were not going well, that I had met someone else...and guess what her response was?
As she wiped her tears, she became angry and said, I bet she does not know your little secret does she? I am going to find her and tell her and make it worse and she will break up with you and you will be back! I said do you think if you did that I would come back? She started to cry again and said yes, because I love you! I said you are obsessed with not being alone! That being said I told her, do what you have to do, I will never be back...and for awhile I was afraid she would find my new girlfriend and tell, how would she react? Due to that situation, I never told the new girlfriend and kept it a secret during our entire 3 year relationship, This same sitaution made me wait until I was married a year before I even told my wife!
Nowadays I could care less, for the most part...but, if you need this to be kept quiet, just because you prefer it at this point in your life, please give great thought with who you share this with.

[Wendae]

I've always thought we would make good spies. I flew under the radar and never got outed. Like Ms Denier I always made sure things got back to where they belonged. Aways careful to not soil any of the clothing. There were accidents early on. Until recently I always planned every step of the way with contingency plans. Actually I still do when going out femmed up.
Yeah, the guilt was there but I did get a good sex education as my father was a career Navy Corpsman and a WWII Vet. Like alot of us purging seems to be a common way of ridding ourselves of guilt and we swear never to do it again. All that purging does get expensive and a lot of stuff could never be replaced.

[Nancy A]

Reading your story takes me back to my childhood as well. I was also a "wiggler", only when I did this at age 5 or so, I was told it was a sin--so imagine my equal guilt when it happened when I first dressed in mom's lingirie.
You told your story with such honesty--thank you. Two small words that can not express the feeling behind them.

[Anita]

Hi Ms. Denier--
I know that I read your story before, and I'm surprised to find that I didn't leave a comment. Very nice! I really enjoyed reading it, and there are parallels in there with my experience. Thank goodness for your aunt. I never had anyone that I trusted with this secret, and I even had a close friend that I could talk to about other troubling aspects of boyhood.

My mother and I came close to it one day, when I said there was something bothering me, and she said that she knew, and that maybe I could talk to my father about it. I look at this memory in amazement right this moment, because everything went wrong. She and I dropped the subject immediately, without specifying "what" this problem was, and I never brought up anything with my dad. As we all know, even without CDing, boys have other "problems" associated with puberty, ones which they also can't talk about.

My mother and I could speak fairly frankly with each other, so why I didn't take this opportunity I'll never know.

[Mary Sanders]

WOW!!! It's so nice to here about someone else who had the same beginings as me.

I loved to take my mothers layered nylon gowns from the laundry basket lock myself in the bathroom put the nightgown on and enjoy the silky softness of it.

One day while sitting in the bathroom wearing a gown something came over me and my enjoyment of the gown became so intense I didn't want to take it off. I decided to hide it under my bed and put it on after everybody was asleep. I could then enjoy the feel of it all night long, just as long as I took it off before my mother came to wake me for school.

I didn't wake up and take it off and my mother caught me. She said nothing to me that morning But, turned me over to my dad for disapline that night.

I was told what I did was very very worng!! Little boys are not to put on girls clothes. This is a very bad thing for a boy to do.

I did not listen and still had an unbelievable desire to wear silky lingerie.

I decided to take a pair of her panties and wear them all night. There would be less of a chance oWf getting caught.

I layed in bed that night enjoying the panties like never before. I started sliding back and forth on my tommy and I can't discribe how good that felt. It didn't take long before I had the orgasm of a life time.

I didn't know what happend but the bed was wet. I said to myself " I must have wet the bed" I put my hand down there but it didn't feel the same as wetting the bed. I then said to myself " It must be blood" I then got scarred and went out into the hallway to look expecting to see the panties all red. To my horror it wasn't. It's worse than I thought "My inner's are comming out." My dad was right and I hurt myself and now I'm going to die and I can't tell anybody. I prayed to God and said I would never do it again if he would let me live.

Well, I didn't die and my desires to experience those feelings again and again did not go away. I didn't know what was happening to me but it had everything to do with the lingerie. The quest was on to steal anything I could get my hands on.

It wasn't untill I over heard a couple of guys in the locker room talking about masterbation that I learned what I was doing.

I talked to a couple of my friends about masterbating and told them how I got off. Bad mistake!! They thought I was weard so I never brought it up again.

It wasn't untill I was about 21 when I first saw the word transvestite in the book The Joy of Sex that I found out what I was.

I need to stop here I'm going on and on too much But, it feels good to think that I'm telling my story to someone who can understand.