Crossdressers-Haven.com

Why do I like to dress?

Now that I feel more comfortable with you girls I would like to put on the table the topic that has been the reason for many internal deliberations in my mind for the last 20 years. I have always been mesmerized by the level of excitement that I experience from just looking or touching a pair of silky panties. When I was a teenager I would go to the women’s lingerie section and I would love just to touch and feel the garments and some times when nobody was looking I would smell them. It doesn’t stop with just the clothes, my obsession includes with all that has to do with the female anatomy and manners. However is restricted only to the sexual aspect (interesting …) The process was almost orgasmic (still is) to me. I always wondered why I had that obsession. Some of the few things that make sense as I try to rationalize my difference with other boys are the following. First of all, my mother was expecting a girl since she already had two boys. Whether the psychological expectation of a female impregnated me with a strong feminine side or whether she treated me in a certain way that created my feminine side or stimulated that area of my growth. The other thing that was interesting in my childhood (in a remote and very and traditionally strong area in South America) was the fact that the boys and girls were separated. I had three siblings (all boys), we went to an all boys’ school and we were not allowed to go out and mingle with girls. I think that this situation fed into my development of the fantasy for women and their clothes. I remember spending hours and hours looking at the neighbor’s clotheslines and try envisioned how each of the female garments was worn by the girl's next door.
May be the early alienation from the opposite gender has something to do with it. During my adolescent all these caused me to be very shy with girls. I never dated in High School but inside of my head I always had a beautiful girl that I always made love too. I made her a reality by using my body and dressing it up with female panties and brass. Lately I am beginning to realize that may be I don’t need to find a reason why I am like that and just enjoy it. I love it, if I could just take all the shame out of it !!!!

I remember when my CDing was nothing more than a sexual thing. I lived in a house where I got yelled at all of the time and I was seen as kind of a dorky wannabe bad-backside at my school. I was the kid who always wore a jean jacket and listened to a lot of Metallica (speaking of which... I think that I will put some Motorhead in my player...) and played guitar. I still do, but now I live quite a bit of a different lifestyle. As far as I've come on my TG journey, I can no longer masturbate in women's clothes. I can't and I won't. It's kind of the way that I view women. I respect them highly, unless they give me a reason not to, and whenever I am en femme, I see a beautiful woman, who is more than just a sex object, but a person that deserves love and respect, and not to be treated like a slut (as I used to). I may not be helping much, but its how I've come to see things.

As far as the shame thing goes... don't be ashamed. It's a part of you, and you can choose to either accept it or reject it. Obviously it means quite a bit to you, so it cannot be let go of that easily. If you choose to reject it, then you might be putting yourself on a long road of pain and misery. If you just come to terms with yourself and accept it, your life will be a lot smoother, and you will be much happier. Overall, though, go with what you are comfortable with.

Love,
- Celes

Hi all,

Maria,

Interesting post. You and I seem to have grown up in similar situations, in the sense that, from the age of about 8 or 9 (and aside for the presence of the odd--"odd" being the operative word, here--live-in housekeeper), I had no strong female influence in my life. I've also wondered if my CD'ing could've developed as a response to that lack. I nixed that idea, though; I first started to wear my mom's clothes, on a more or less regular basis, from the age of about 5 and until she left the household a few years later.

A great source of shame, for me (aside from even just the desire to wear women's clothes), was what I had to resort to in order to get ahold of women's clothing. Now, I've always considered myself an honest and morally upright person, even as a youngster. But, on several occasions, in my late childhood and early teens, I'd slip out my bedroom window late at night and go clothesline raiding. Yes, some women in the neighbourhood lost some articles of clothing to my desires. This is the first time I've ever told this to anyone other than my ex-GF's. Do you know, Maria, how long it took me to get over the shame and the guilt I felt over my behaviour? Years. Although I tried, I could find no way to justify my behaviour to myself. These thefts, though few, caused me no end of distress.

I realized, as an adult, that feelings of guilt and shame regarding both my behaviour and my desires were killing me, slowly eating away at my soul, like a cancer. I knew that, if I didn't somehow let go of these feelings, they'd do me in. Of that, I was 1000% sure. And they very nearly did. Thankfully (and, to this day, I'm never really sure who or what to thank), I managed to journey through my own "vale of tears" and come out the other side, into the sunshine. Really, I don't think my experience in this regard is all that different from most of my sisters' here, on the forum or elsewhere. I do believe that, although the passage of time helps, letting go of shame (and of guilt and fear) is an active process, one that requires our full attention and participation. Letting things fester can serve no purpose. And neither can numbing our pain through whatever means we choose. Shame is not a scar on our soul, it's an open wound; mere bandages or dressings won't do. Oddly enough (or maybe not), I found that, once I started excluding shame from my inner life, my fears--fear of rejection, fear of my desires, fear of intimacy, fear of myself, fear of life itself--left the building as well. Anyway, again, I went off on a wild tangent, here. Sorry.

You know, Maria, I think I started CD'ing for pretty much the same reasons you did (and probably for the same reasons others here did, as well): the garments, and the very fabrics themselves, had a sensual mystique and held a very tactile attraction for me. When I was very young, my mother used to lay out her clothes on the bed while she got ready for work and oh! how I used to love playing with those clothes, touching them, smelling them, gently caressing my face with them. It wasn't even sexual at the time (I was far too young). No, it was--and, to a large extent, still is--a sensual thrill for me. Even today, there aren't that many occasions where you'll find me caressing my own body but I do when I'm wearing something soft and silky (and, no, I'm not talking just about sexual activity, here, although it can include that, too). Like everyone else here, my brain may be my most important organ (after all, it's where my sense of gender lives) but it's my skin that's the most extensive one, the one most in actual contact with the world. As such, it's a gateway to pleasure. However much I "rationalize" or "genitalize" my own sexual desires, I know that physical pleasure, for me, starts with touch. And, although my relationships--the fulfilling of my emotional needs, of my desire to love and to be loved--will always be with persons and not with inanimate objects such as clothing, my skin and my fingertips find their pleasure indiscriminately. After all, there is such a thing as "satin/y smooth" skin or "silk/y soft" hair, no? Anyway, very interesting post, Maria. Thanks for sharing.

Celes,

How right you are; I do believe that we have more power than we give ourselves credit for in either accepting or rejecting who we are. It's just a hard hill to climb, is all. When you've spent much of your life being rejected (or thinking you're being rejected--and this is the key, to me), it's very difficult to work against internalizing that sense of rejection. But work against it we must. For our own sanity and peace of mind. Though our self-esteem can (and often does) waver, our worth as individuals, as persons, is never dependent on who or what other people think we are. Hell! it doesn't even depend on who or what we think we are. For myself, I try to take a more, shall we say, "cosmic" perspective: each and every one of us is a particular and very unique way in which the universe we live in manifests itself. Sometimes, it's mountains, sometimes, trees. Sometimes, it's suns and stars, sometimes, fish and raindrops. Sometimes, it's human beings. Us. And, regardless of our toils and troubles, we're worthy to be, to exist.

Love,
CJ

Hi all,

This is another great thread.

Like most of you, I went through stages of shame, fear, embarrasement, purges, etc. Finally, in my advanced age I have accepted myself as I am: single, (mostly) private CD'er, fortunate to have an understanding SO.

There is still the thrill of dressing - unexplainable, but much like I experienced as a teenager.

Finding this forum has been a revelation. I have looked into others in the same vein, but this is the only one that I actually joined, and feel at home in.

There is no shame. We are not "sick".

Hey - I don't feel comfortable even opeing this forum unless I am appropriately dressed.

Love to all,

Willy

Clothes lines! Yea me too.

I'd go after slips, loved sliding a slip on. I did this when delivering the morning paper, but always put them back so they would keep hanging them out.

Many boys in general, not because they were TG, have the same sexual fascinations with women's undergarments. And many of these boys still do as men. So there is no need to feel different or shameful. Lets call it a sexual kink, or fetish, if you will.

And many CDs have indicated that they started dressing at a young age, i.e., younger than puberty. So I don't think, in these instances in particular, that the root of the dressing lies in their sexual awakening.

And I doubt if all CDs had a sexual fascination for lingerie. I say doubt, because I had the fascination and can't speak for everyone.

So, having a fetish for lingerie does not mean you are a CD, and being a CD does not mean you have a fetish for lingerie. However, if the "general" boy was also a CD, then you get a combination of the two. A CD with a fetish for lingerie, but each element is a separate part of who that person is. Apples and oranges.

I believe that, for some, our CDing lies dormant until awakened by some trigger. For me it was putting on one of my mother's discarded silky nighties. My gender awakening before my sexual awakening.

Thank you, Maria, for expressing so clearly these important experiences with crossdressing--so common to so many of us.

Lately I am beginning to realize that may be I don’t need to find a reason why I am like that and just enjoy it. I love it, if I could just take all the shame out of it

May I suggest that there are options between extremes of (1) feeling shame about crossdressing and (2) seeing crossdressing as simply a good thing to be enjoyed.

Specifically, perhaps crossdressing is a bad habit, but not something we should be ashamed of. Why perhaps a bad habit? Well because it creates problems, it involves a view which is not reality (i.e., pretending to be a woman), it is basically selfish, and it takes time and energy away from potentially better activities. But why feel no shame? Because, first, our motives for pursuing crossdressing, including a sense of wonder at various implications of the mystery of femininity, are understandable. Second, because every human being has their characteristic hang-up.
In our case, it's crossdressing. But most people have hangups just as complex. In fact, one might suggest that most hangups, like crossdressing, involve a battle between body (pleasure seeking) and soul (recognition of the body and material things as illusory).

Shame is merely another bodily emotion.

Cathy

Ohh, the memories of shame!

I really had the shame bigtime for most of my life. As I look back on it, I think I actively BRED the shame. I cultivated it, watered it, and so on. And I should be surprised that it took root and flourished?

It started with "borrowing" my mom's stuff. I knew I shouldn't, even at the age of 4. Then mom caught me. AND SHE FREAKED! First time I ever saw her cry. It made no sense at the time--how could a 4 year old wearing his mother's lipstick and stockings be so bad as to make her cry?
Then when she had me feeling completely guilty, came the zinger: "I'm going to have to tell your father when he gets home." My response was predictable--I promise never to do this again, if you please won't tell him.

A promise I couldn't keep. But at the age of 4, how could I know that?

So from then on, every time I crossdressed, I was breaking a promise. GUILT!

Every time I crossdressed, even one garment, I felt even guiltier. The guilt grew and grew.

By adulthood I was a nervous wreck!

So how did I get over the guilt? By finally accepting that this is the way I am. And by finding positive aspects to crossdressing. There are lots of them for me: I have more friends now than ever, my wife and I have fun when we go out this way, and I've been able, in some small ways, to be of help to my sisters. That last one, for me, is the biggest thing. In other words, I've found a sense of purpose and turned my weakness into a strength.

God, it's great to be alive!