New Insights on Why I Crossdress
Posted: Mon Aug 01, 2005 5:45 pm
For more than two years I have been seeing a therapist in an attempt to figure out the meaning of my crossdressing and move beyond it. I have reviewed records and memories of my early childhood and gathered additional information from relatives. I also recently had a mind-blowing encounter with an incredibly perceptive spiritual healer, which provided an additional perspective. I think I am finally getting close to figuring out a reason for my crossdressing, which I would like to share.
What I am about to say is about my own individual situation. It may have no relevance whatsoever to other men who crossdress. While we all have things in common, I also respect the fact that we also have a wide variety of differences in our personal histories and degrees of gender identification.
Whether or not I was born with transgender tendencies is open to question. As a little boy I did not exhibit any transgender tendencies, nor was I ever crossdressed. However, I did suffer significant physical and emotional abuse. My mother kept a detailed, typewritten log of my first 5 years, which expressly states that she and my father began beating me with a leather belt when I was only about 18 months old. This continued for years. My parents would beat me severely, simply for routine things like crying or having temper tantrums - behavior that is perfectly normal for children that age. The stressful situation was further complicated when we moved into my grandmother's house, where I had to put up with the demands not only of my parents, but numerous other relatives.
I have been told that abused children often react by splitting off their emotions from the traumatic situation. This may have happened to me. In addition, such children tend to blame themselves for what is happening to them, rather than recognizing the terrifying truth about their abusive parents.
Then something good happened when I was about 3 1/2 years old. A female cousin my age came with her mother to live with us in my grandmother's house, while her father and mine were both serving in the armed forces. Her mother (my aunt) objected to my mother’s beating me, and my cousin and I were allowed to run around, make noise, and play happily together like normal children. My cousin initiated the activities, and I followed along. I became very attached to her, because through her I could freely enjoy and express myself as never before. Perhaps I also came to believe that girls had privileges that boys didn’t have.
When I was about 4 1/2 years old, my cousin and her family moved away. I missed her deeply. I found myself back in a world of impossible adults, terrifying beatings, and severe emotional repression. I felt like a frightened, frustrated, empty shell, trying to please the grownups around me. I was separated from my true feelings, which resided instead in an "imaginary playmate" that I had patterned after my girl cousin.
In the same town I also had a boy cousin my age, but with whom I had a competitive relationship. We both started kindergarten together, and that Halloween he came to school dressed as a girl, wearing a frilly blue dress and bonnet. This was my first contact with crossdressing. I was dumfounded. I was also surprised at how jealous I felt. Perhaps I unconsciously saw crossdressing as a way to achieve emotional fulfillment by merging with my idealized female persona.
Later, my father became annoyed when I persisted in talking about my cousin's costume. He angrily confronted me by asking whether I wanted to wear a dress. Sensing his disapproval, I lied and told him "No."
Around that time my sister was born, and I think I may also have been jealous of the attention that was being given to her.
For several years I denied and suppressed my interest in crossdressing. Then, when I was 11 years old, my best friend, who lived across the street from me, came down with a respiratory infection. He lived with his divorced mother, who was a Christian Scientist and did not believe in doctors. His illness became critical, and by the time she decided to seek medical attention, it was too late. He died on the way to the hospital.
I was deeply shaken by this event. During the following months, I found myself alone at home for a few hours each afternoon after school, with no other boys in the neighborhood to play with. One day I found a bag of my mother's discarded cotton dresses in the basement. Although I was initially afraid of compromising my "masculinity" by trying on female clothing, l eventually succumbed to my curiosity. Suddenly - wham! I felt a flood of euphoria springing from within me, washing away the stress and self-loathing that I had been enduring for years. Even on a purely physical level, I found that loose skirts and dresses were far more comfortable than trousers.
Needless to say, I was hooked. But with this pleasure also came the shame, guilt, and fear of rejection connected with male-to-female crossdressing. So I kept my crossdressing hidden and private. Even in socially acceptable contexts - such as Halloween, Boy Scout and fraternity skits, and womanless beauty contests - I repeatedly refused the opportunity to dress up as a woman in public.
For long periods my interest in crossdressing would diminish, only to re-emerge at times of emotional crisis and loneliness. One such period occurred when I was living alone in an apartment and began dressing in full drag for the first time. That is when I gave my female persona the name "Maggie." After a few months I met my present wife, I purged all my female things, and I swore off crossdressing for many years. However, I did wear men’s kilts for reasons of comfort.
The current manifestation of Maggie began almost three years ago, at another time of emotional crises. This time, I have expressed my female persona more fully than before. I have presented her as characters in stage performances, have taken her to TG support group meetings, and have gone about in public as a woman.
Like the girl cousin whom I loved when I was four, Maggie has helped me get through rough times. She removes the pall of fear, pain, and repression and allows me to experience inner wholeness and joy. It’s not that I enjoy being a woman per se, but rather that, when I am Maggie I am able to love myself. Now, if I could only learn to do this as a man.
What I am about to say is about my own individual situation. It may have no relevance whatsoever to other men who crossdress. While we all have things in common, I also respect the fact that we also have a wide variety of differences in our personal histories and degrees of gender identification.
Whether or not I was born with transgender tendencies is open to question. As a little boy I did not exhibit any transgender tendencies, nor was I ever crossdressed. However, I did suffer significant physical and emotional abuse. My mother kept a detailed, typewritten log of my first 5 years, which expressly states that she and my father began beating me with a leather belt when I was only about 18 months old. This continued for years. My parents would beat me severely, simply for routine things like crying or having temper tantrums - behavior that is perfectly normal for children that age. The stressful situation was further complicated when we moved into my grandmother's house, where I had to put up with the demands not only of my parents, but numerous other relatives.
I have been told that abused children often react by splitting off their emotions from the traumatic situation. This may have happened to me. In addition, such children tend to blame themselves for what is happening to them, rather than recognizing the terrifying truth about their abusive parents.
Then something good happened when I was about 3 1/2 years old. A female cousin my age came with her mother to live with us in my grandmother's house, while her father and mine were both serving in the armed forces. Her mother (my aunt) objected to my mother’s beating me, and my cousin and I were allowed to run around, make noise, and play happily together like normal children. My cousin initiated the activities, and I followed along. I became very attached to her, because through her I could freely enjoy and express myself as never before. Perhaps I also came to believe that girls had privileges that boys didn’t have.
When I was about 4 1/2 years old, my cousin and her family moved away. I missed her deeply. I found myself back in a world of impossible adults, terrifying beatings, and severe emotional repression. I felt like a frightened, frustrated, empty shell, trying to please the grownups around me. I was separated from my true feelings, which resided instead in an "imaginary playmate" that I had patterned after my girl cousin.
In the same town I also had a boy cousin my age, but with whom I had a competitive relationship. We both started kindergarten together, and that Halloween he came to school dressed as a girl, wearing a frilly blue dress and bonnet. This was my first contact with crossdressing. I was dumfounded. I was also surprised at how jealous I felt. Perhaps I unconsciously saw crossdressing as a way to achieve emotional fulfillment by merging with my idealized female persona.
Later, my father became annoyed when I persisted in talking about my cousin's costume. He angrily confronted me by asking whether I wanted to wear a dress. Sensing his disapproval, I lied and told him "No."
Around that time my sister was born, and I think I may also have been jealous of the attention that was being given to her.
For several years I denied and suppressed my interest in crossdressing. Then, when I was 11 years old, my best friend, who lived across the street from me, came down with a respiratory infection. He lived with his divorced mother, who was a Christian Scientist and did not believe in doctors. His illness became critical, and by the time she decided to seek medical attention, it was too late. He died on the way to the hospital.
I was deeply shaken by this event. During the following months, I found myself alone at home for a few hours each afternoon after school, with no other boys in the neighborhood to play with. One day I found a bag of my mother's discarded cotton dresses in the basement. Although I was initially afraid of compromising my "masculinity" by trying on female clothing, l eventually succumbed to my curiosity. Suddenly - wham! I felt a flood of euphoria springing from within me, washing away the stress and self-loathing that I had been enduring for years. Even on a purely physical level, I found that loose skirts and dresses were far more comfortable than trousers.
Needless to say, I was hooked. But with this pleasure also came the shame, guilt, and fear of rejection connected with male-to-female crossdressing. So I kept my crossdressing hidden and private. Even in socially acceptable contexts - such as Halloween, Boy Scout and fraternity skits, and womanless beauty contests - I repeatedly refused the opportunity to dress up as a woman in public.
For long periods my interest in crossdressing would diminish, only to re-emerge at times of emotional crisis and loneliness. One such period occurred when I was living alone in an apartment and began dressing in full drag for the first time. That is when I gave my female persona the name "Maggie." After a few months I met my present wife, I purged all my female things, and I swore off crossdressing for many years. However, I did wear men’s kilts for reasons of comfort.
The current manifestation of Maggie began almost three years ago, at another time of emotional crises. This time, I have expressed my female persona more fully than before. I have presented her as characters in stage performances, have taken her to TG support group meetings, and have gone about in public as a woman.
Like the girl cousin whom I loved when I was four, Maggie has helped me get through rough times. She removes the pall of fear, pain, and repression and allows me to experience inner wholeness and joy. It’s not that I enjoy being a woman per se, but rather that, when I am Maggie I am able to love myself. Now, if I could only learn to do this as a man.
Now I understand Maggie. Just hang in there! 
here and I much perfer to have fun 