Subliminal Feelings To A Catalyst.

The pretty girl smiled at me from the page of the glossy magazine in which she posed, alluringly, provocatively, her bright blue eyes smiling as enticingly as the smile on her cherry red lips.

My eyes traced the exquisite curve of her figure as she sat, half reclining on the leather backed chaise longue, her lightly tanned legs extensively revealed by the shortness  of her pretty summer dress, her long blonde hair falling in soft curls around her delicate neck and shoulders.

As I continued to gaze longingly at her picture, I instinctively knew that the subliminal feelings that I'd had from an early age where beginning to surface and demand expression - within a year, I would begin to secretly cross dress.

That moment had brought the catalyst but, at that time, I did not have the means, the resources nor the freedom to effect a full transformation. It would be a gradual process of small beginnings - knickers furtively bought from a market stall and worn secretly whenever I could. Other items would follow as I began to overcome my shyness and inhibitions and to learn that the stall holders and shop keepers were happy enough to take my money - whatever suspicions they might have had. 


Despite a few occasions of hiatus, my urge to cross dress persisted. It became habitual - ultimately compulsive - and remained a constant need. It does so still - some sixty years on.

Part two...From the catalyst to the transformation.

There was no such thing as internet shopping in those days. Items had to be bought from retail outlets - markets, shops etc. However, over  the following years, I continued to add to my collection of female clothing and items of feminisation. This would bring its own problems, not least how to conceal the growing number of items from the risk of discovery - and to wash and dry following my wearing of them. These were less enlightened times and secrecy was of necessity. Suffice it to say, I found solutions.

In any case cross dressing was not always uppermost in my thoughts. I was at the age where there are many distractions but in my more private moments the idea would recur - producing moments of sexual arousal that were difficult to come to terms with but enjoyable all the same.

I was vaguely conscious that the sexual arousal was merely a side effect. The real generic influence, stemming from those subliminal feelings, was a vague desire to create and express a feminine persona -  a wish to transform the proverbial ugly duckling into a beautiful Swan.

In my mid twenties, the desire for that transformation assumed a new urgency due to a development in family circumstances. My parents bought a static caravan.

Regular weekends away - even longer holidays - gave me the opportunity to be home alone and to indulge my cross dressing habit. I now set about the shopping with a new sense of purpose. I even visited a transformations shop where I bought a little close fitting mini dress and a Lycra mini skirt - having had the sheer enjoyment of trying them on in the shop.

Now I needed to buy a female wig. I had passed the local wig boutique many times on my way home from work, from time to time glancing furtively at the window. Would I have the courage to go in and buy? Somehow I found it.

The lady was surprisingly pleasant to me and helpful. She showed me several. I chose a collar length blonde bob.. She asked me if I would like to try it on. I agreed and she took me to a cubicle, put it on and styled for me. Without makeup and in male attire it looked a little strange but, in my minds eye, I envisaged the change. It had been an unusual and unique experience - although it hadnt occurred to me that I probably wasn't the first cross dressing  male customer to have bought from her shop.

The final item would prove the most testing - shoes. How in earth was I going to enter a ladies shoe shop and purchase a pair of high heels.

I got lucky. Outside a shoe market I found a basket of shoes  - clearance items offered at a sale price. In it was a pair of suede high heels in my size. I hesitated. I walked away. I walked round the block twice but I knew in the end I could not face going home without them.
The purchase proved easier than I imagined. Inside, a young man and a young woman were serving. They were so engrossed in their own conversation that they hardly paid me a second glance as I presented the shoes and completed the purchase. I went home feeling elated and excited. 


Once there, I lost no time in dressing. The first attempt at make up was a disaster. I washed it off and started again - this time using less of it. It was an improvement but not perfect. I donned the wig and the heels, wobbling slightly as I stood up in them. Clearly, walking in them was going to take some practise.Now fully dressed, I stood in front of the full length mirror on my dressing table and looked at my reflection. I looked passably feminine, or so I thought.

 But something wasn't quite right. It took me some moments to realise what it was. It was posture. I was standing like a bloke.Suddenly, I thought of the girl in the glossy magazine - the one with the smiling eyes and the cherry red lips - I remembered how she had posed, alluringly, provocatively, emphasising every aspect of her femininity to full effect.Clearly, this too would need to be practised  - my posture and mannerisms were not naturally feminine - but I had finally succeeded in creating my feminine alter-ego. The girl I wanted to be had arrived - and she was here to stay!

And Finally....

I had not, at that stage, begun to question my sexuality. I liked - possibly envied - girls but such relationships that I'd had were brief and inconclusive. I wasn't particularly attracted to other males but I had often fantasised about being homosexually seduced. In those fantasies, I imagined myself being compliant and submissive.  I became aroused and often climaxed on the idea.

There was, in those days, a wrong assumption that men who cross dressed must be gay. Nowadays, most folk are sufficiently enlightened to understand that this is not always the case. However, in my case at least, I suspect that there may be a correlation. I can still be aroused by the idea of being seduced by another guy but remain uncertain as to whether I would actually comply.

In the event, although I enjoyed the fantasy, I had always dismissed the idea in the cold light of day. There were opportunities with both sexes but - through a combination of shyness and being too slow on the uptake - I had always contrived to let them slip away. I remained a secret cross dresser and a virgin -  as regards the latter, unbelievably perhaps, I remain so still.

I had known that cross dressing was right for me from the very first time that I put on knickers and a dress. It just felt so natural, comfortable and liberating - and yes, sexually stimulating. I wanted to show myself to the world. I wanted to walk down the street in my best outfits and my heels. I wanted to show myself to my friends and to  everyone in general. So why didn't I? Because I did not want to cause upset and distress to those I loved and cared about.

Then, rather late in life, technology came along and so here I am - trying to make up for lost time and lost opportunities - and now, when I am nearly too old for it to matter, I am considering the possibility that I may all along have been gay - tho non scene and non practising.

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