I have been a member here since sept 2004. In all this time, I have never seen a thread on 'cross dressers' (not someone who gets angry because the shirt doesn't fit)
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This is of interest to me, because I was a cross dresser myself.
I distinctly remember an incident when I was a child, (from the house we were in, I would guess that I was seven). All that I can remember was being inside the bathroom (with the door locked), and my mother knocking on the door, insisting that I open it. The problem was that I was 'trying on' her girdle.
I can remember little of what came after, except for (I presume my mother) telling me that she would have to take me to the doctor if I ever did it again.
I guess you can imagine how I felt.
That was it; nothing happened again, until, when I was 21.
I had been in a relationship with a girl with whom I was totally besotted. She was very much what I would call a "Free spirit". In fact, she was so 'free' that I was to find out that two-timing me was 'normal' to her, maybe even 'three timing'..............
But I was very much in love with her, and believed that we were 'made for each other'. They do say 'Love is blind'. We were both at the Bournemouth College at the time. After we finished college, I joined the Bank, and she started doing odd bits of part-time work; six moths later, I found that the family was to move to Cheltenham (a beautiful part of the Country, 100 or so miles from home -I still lived with my parents).
I asked the Bank for a transfer to that area, and was lucky in obtaining one. I went there, and this girl's Mum suggested that I be "a paying guest"; I paid for lodging and food. This carried on for two years; I worked in the Bank, and the girl worked as a secretary in a local factory (she was a PA to the managing director).
Out of the blue, at the end of two years, I was told that the family was moving back to Bournemouth. The Father had got a job with a Navy establishment, working as a scientist researching new (then) technology of life jackets, with lights that came on when put in water. He was an expert in Rubber, having been manager of a rubber plantation in Malaysia.
So I got myself lodgings, moved out of the family home, and the whole family came back here. (There was no way I could expect the bank to be presented with another request to move back to Bournemouth).
We (the girl and I) kept in touch; I wrote everyday, and we talked on the phone most days. I suddenly began to be aware that she was seeing 'mutual men friends' from the college days. She even told me quite candidly that she had a sexual 'fling' with one or two of them.
Imagine my devastation. One day, in the depths of despair, I telephoned her in the evening, and told her that I had decided to finish with her. She sounded shocked (even devastated), and asked me why. How could I tell her that with her being so far away, and openly telling me she was having sexual encounters with other men, that I just couldn't take it any more ?. The situation was eating away at my very core, but I relented, and agreed that we should not part.
At this time, I used to motor the 100 miles (of very small roads between Bournemouth and Cheltenham every friday after work, to return Sunday night). One week end I would stay with my parents, the next I would stay at the Girlfriend's mother's house.
I became even more convinced that she was 'sleeping around'. I was broken hearted, but still totally besotted. it must have been on onesuch trip (when I spent the week end at her house) that, for some totally unknown 'prompt', I stole some of her clothing; namely underwear. Everytime I went to spend the week end there, I took another piece or two of clothing.
This will sound absurd, but on the drive back, I used to stop near some secluded woods; I would undress, and put on her underclother clothes under my own. I even stopped on the way (as I used to, for the odd pint of beer); it was almost ritualistic (my going into the pub with her underclothes on). The only sensation I can recall was one of 'feeling great'. feeling a sense of 'completeness'.
This went on for three or so years (and no one ever found out). Then one day, she decided to come to see me in Cheltenham.
Of course, she started looking through my drawers (I can't remember why)...Knowing her, she was just being nosy.....................
Of course, she found my 'cache'. Of course, it was embarassing; I felt humiliated. That was it.....for a while.
The next 'episode' was after I had been married four years or so. I was heavily depressed, drinking enough to sink a battleship, but managing to keep my job, be a husband (to a wife who was still suffering post nartal depression after the birth of our eldest), and was the one who looked after him solely when I was home from work. My wife used tro go to bed as soon as I came in. She found it hard enough to get up when I wasn't at home. I began to wear some of my wife's clothes. Sometimes (if she was away for a week end with her parents), it was a whole week end (whenever our son was safely tucked in bed).
I have never told a soul about this (none of it), so I guess you can imagine what it is like telling you all.
Through research, and what I have been diagnosed with, I began to understand.
I desperately needed a mother figure. My mother had never bonded with me, and whenever I couldn't cope, I used to resort to that behaviour........it was a way of substituting the woman I missed, that I had needed. Since then, I have never needed to resort to that behaviour (Thank goodness). I think the key was in knowing 'why'.
Much as I am dreading reading the replies, I wonder, has any other man on the forum experienced the same thing (or similar?)
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.This is of interest to me, because I was a cross dresser myself.
I distinctly remember an incident when I was a child, (from the house we were in, I would guess that I was seven). All that I can remember was being inside the bathroom (with the door locked), and my mother knocking on the door, insisting that I open it. The problem was that I was 'trying on' her girdle.
I can remember little of what came after, except for (I presume my mother) telling me that she would have to take me to the doctor if I ever did it again.
I guess you can imagine how I felt.
That was it; nothing happened again, until, when I was 21.
I had been in a relationship with a girl with whom I was totally besotted. She was very much what I would call a "Free spirit". In fact, she was so 'free' that I was to find out that two-timing me was 'normal' to her, maybe even 'three timing'..............
But I was very much in love with her, and believed that we were 'made for each other'. They do say 'Love is blind'. We were both at the Bournemouth College at the time. After we finished college, I joined the Bank, and she started doing odd bits of part-time work; six moths later, I found that the family was to move to Cheltenham (a beautiful part of the Country, 100 or so miles from home -I still lived with my parents).
I asked the Bank for a transfer to that area, and was lucky in obtaining one. I went there, and this girl's Mum suggested that I be "a paying guest"; I paid for lodging and food. This carried on for two years; I worked in the Bank, and the girl worked as a secretary in a local factory (she was a PA to the managing director).
Out of the blue, at the end of two years, I was told that the family was moving back to Bournemouth. The Father had got a job with a Navy establishment, working as a scientist researching new (then) technology of life jackets, with lights that came on when put in water. He was an expert in Rubber, having been manager of a rubber plantation in Malaysia.
So I got myself lodgings, moved out of the family home, and the whole family came back here. (There was no way I could expect the bank to be presented with another request to move back to Bournemouth).
We (the girl and I) kept in touch; I wrote everyday, and we talked on the phone most days. I suddenly began to be aware that she was seeing 'mutual men friends' from the college days. She even told me quite candidly that she had a sexual 'fling' with one or two of them.
Imagine my devastation. One day, in the depths of despair, I telephoned her in the evening, and told her that I had decided to finish with her. She sounded shocked (even devastated), and asked me why. How could I tell her that with her being so far away, and openly telling me she was having sexual encounters with other men, that I just couldn't take it any more ?. The situation was eating away at my very core, but I relented, and agreed that we should not part.
At this time, I used to motor the 100 miles (of very small roads between Bournemouth and Cheltenham every friday after work, to return Sunday night). One week end I would stay with my parents, the next I would stay at the Girlfriend's mother's house.
I became even more convinced that she was 'sleeping around'. I was broken hearted, but still totally besotted. it must have been on onesuch trip (when I spent the week end at her house) that, for some totally unknown 'prompt', I stole some of her clothing; namely underwear. Everytime I went to spend the week end there, I took another piece or two of clothing.
This will sound absurd, but on the drive back, I used to stop near some secluded woods; I would undress, and put on her underclother clothes under my own. I even stopped on the way (as I used to, for the odd pint of beer); it was almost ritualistic (my going into the pub with her underclothes on). The only sensation I can recall was one of 'feeling great'. feeling a sense of 'completeness'.
This went on for three or so years (and no one ever found out). Then one day, she decided to come to see me in Cheltenham.
Of course, she started looking through my drawers (I can't remember why)...Knowing her, she was just being nosy.....................
Of course, she found my 'cache'. Of course, it was embarassing; I felt humiliated. That was it.....for a while.
The next 'episode' was after I had been married four years or so. I was heavily depressed, drinking enough to sink a battleship, but managing to keep my job, be a husband (to a wife who was still suffering post nartal depression after the birth of our eldest), and was the one who looked after him solely when I was home from work. My wife used tro go to bed as soon as I came in. She found it hard enough to get up when I wasn't at home. I began to wear some of my wife's clothes. Sometimes (if she was away for a week end with her parents), it was a whole week end (whenever our son was safely tucked in bed).
I have never told a soul about this (none of it), so I guess you can imagine what it is like telling you all.
Through research, and what I have been diagnosed with, I began to understand.
I desperately needed a mother figure. My mother had never bonded with me, and whenever I couldn't cope, I used to resort to that behaviour........it was a way of substituting the woman I missed, that I had needed. Since then, I have never needed to resort to that behaviour (Thank goodness). I think the key was in knowing 'why'.
Much as I am dreading reading the replies, I wonder, has any other man on the forum experienced the same thing (or similar?)
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