Changing Back: The Disappointment After the Euphoria

When you have spent a few days or a week, or maybe even longer, eagerly looking forward to the precious, precious time when you can crossdress and be the real you…

When you have experienced the unforgettable euphoria that only crossdressing in one of your En Femme outfits can bring…

When you have enjoyed the highs and the complete contentment that results once you reveal your feminine personality—resplendent in her fine clothes, beautiful make up, shoes, accessories and wig—for as long as you could…

Then, what happens when it’s time to change back to drab? When it’s time to slowly, reluctantly, piece by piece, dismantle your alter ego, stripping away your female persona layer by layer, until all that’s left is…Urgh! Him!

To me, it hardly bears thinking about.

Yet it’s something we have to do, unless we are one of the lucky ones who can stay dressed as a woman every day and forever. We have to revert back and face the world in our male persona. We have to present our false image to those who know us best—friends, family, and colleagues. We have to go back to maintaining the facade of the pretense that we lead.

Who hasn’t woken up on a typical Monday morning with the equivalent of a major hangover or flu symptoms after happily spending the last 60 hours or so, from the previous Friday night, crossdressed and living as a woman?

You’ll easily recognize the withdrawal symptoms I’m talking about: torso numb—just as if an elephant had been sitting on it all night—with leaden arms and legs. Sometimes there’s a severe pain, emanating from a point somewhere around the centre of the back of your neck, searing into your skull.

You shake your head to convince yourself that the intense pain, now sitting squarely in the center of your head, hasn’t been a figment of your imagination and gingerly open your eyes again with an “Ugh, dreary me.” What gross feelings. Then you yawn as the slow realization courses through you that, despite your inner denials, the cause of your current, unpleasant discomfort originates from the source of the greatest pleasure in your life—your crossdressing.

I guess you’d call it a paradox.

Crossdressing is one of the most important things in many of our lives (I dare you to deny it). It’s something that keeps us going, keeps us intoxicated, keeps us forever looking forward to the next time, the next weekend or any spare moment when we can escape from the world which we are forced to inhabit in a persona which does not represent the complete us.

So, when we reach this state of mind that crossdressing induces, this peak of our nirvana (and all crossdressers will know what I mean) we want time to drag by slowly—no pun intended. We want the night (or day) to never end and feel as if we want to be a woman forever.

I think it’s becoming clearer then why this leads to the symptoms I mentioned above. You can guess why we feel so ghastly once we change back to drab, whether we have been dressed for an hour or a day or longer.

Actually, it’s quite simple really. Anyone who experiences a euphoric high—a peak of feelings of such magnificence, a high point most ordinary people cannot ever hope to attain—must experience a downer once the euphoria is over. They must experience some form of withdrawal from the pleasures they’ve just experienced. They must subconsciously allow their body and brain to retreat from the highs.

Most crossdressers after the event retreat into a daze of disappointment, a fog of denial, a state where the mind is relatively numb—and the brain and body aches for recommencement of the previous experiences.

And many of us are like the proverbial alcoholic or drug user. We begin to crave the next fix, the next time. Because the only cure is to dig out one of our En Femme outfits and dress again… and again… and for longer than the last time.

Who knows, maybe we’ll do it until there are no time periods between the changes from male to female and back again, until there’s no need to change back to the dreaded male mode.

And the feeling of having the post-dressing blues will be banished forever!

Why? Because many of us, deep in our hearts, simply don’t want to change back!


  • Angela

    I absolutely HATE having to change back! Being dressed with my 5" heels and beautiful wig is the most glorious feeling and look.
    We are all sisters in our feelings. Just wish I could be full time female.
    Hugs and kisses, Angela

  • Veronica (Tom)

    I also have that dread of changing back into " him" after the uphoria of being my true self and I truly hate going back to drab but you have to take the risk if you
    want to spend a number of hours as a woman and feel the softness of the fabric caress your body and you lose yourself to the pink fog.And I've loved every moment of it and I've loved having a strong man holding me in his arms and kissing me but the downfall comes when I return home and are forced to change back into " him" and it's a total letdown having to give up "her" for "him" and it's disappointing knowing you have to let the pink fog go .But I know that there
    will be more opportunities for "her" to come out again and I can't wait to be Veronica again in the future.
    Love Always,

  • Michael

    So far I've taken baby steps in transforming into Gella. I've dressed up in a womans Halloween costume, applied the dress, high heals, fake breasts & make up. I imagine homophobes would take their shots at me & full-time crossdressers & transwomen would roll their eyes seeing everything I did wrong. However looking in the mirror I looked & felt beautiful & not to mention liberated. My only issue was with the wigs. They feel like uncomfortable hats that I wanna take off because it doesn't feel like my hair. Sadly I started losing my own hair at 23 years old & gaining my own hair back is no easier than obtaining the natural breasts & curves I always wanted. None the less I'm motivated to step out as Gella, the beautiful woman I dreamed of becoming.

  • Lori
    You totally nailed it. thank you very much All this time I thought was the only one.

  • Julie

    I had this disappointing experience today. Last night for the first time ever I went out as Julie. I'd spent the whole day getting ready and then went out to what I knew would be a safe place. I had a FABULOUS time out for hours feeling (and maybe even looking) pretty – until I came home. Then little by little I had to take off all the things I loved, put them back in hiding, and prepare for my 'real life' to begin again this morning. If only Julie could be my real life!

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