Why Do I Crossdress?

Why, why, why?

I imagine most of us have, sometime during the course our lives, sat down and pondered why we cross dress. Why we have that burning desire, no…, let me rephrase that: why we have that essential, irresistible, unforgiving urge need to now and then don women’s clothes and, for however long we are able, portray ourselves as female.

I guess a simple, yet somewhat flippant, answer would be: Well, I don’t know, I guess I just like to be like a woman now and then. However, if you spend some time contemplating this aspect of your character, you may find that there is more to it than that.

So, furrow your brow, takes a few moments to reflect and think:
Why do we do it?

Clearly, as with almost all T-people, it is something we were born with—so is it to do with whatever happened to us in our mother’s womb? The oft mentioned “Oestrogen wash” for example?

Or was it something in our social development, our upbringing where, say, we were the only male in a household of females? Or did we get cajoled into playing girls parts in school plays at school—and secretly enjoyed it?

Do we have a feminine looking body—in all or part? Maybe long slim legs below a male torso, or slender fingers, nice skin, long eyelashes and/or a girly lips/mouth?

What about our characters? Don’t like the rough and tumble of boys or men’s games, don’t like getting our hands dirty, but rather enjoy more passive activities such as reading, painting, even knitting (many men do!)? Don’t like the typical coarseness of men?

Do we simply admire the textures and feel of women’s clothes compared with the drab, coarse fabrics men usually have to wear; suit and tie, trousers and shirts, compared with skirts and tops, and dresses in silk and lace, nylon and satin, cotton and, oh, so many other fabrics and styles (long, short, mini, tight, flowing, loose…).

Let’s not dwell on shoes and boots and sandals, we’ll be here forever, but just think: high heels, low heels, flat shoes, thigh length boots, calf length boots, ankle boots; and hair adornments, earring, bracelets, rings, necklaces; scarves, shawls, cardigans… in colours sometimes we have never dreamt of.

Or is that we are simply, fundamentally women?

Women hidden inside a male shell; hidden because general society is hypocritical towards people who are just that little bit different. Fearful of something out of the ordinary, fearful of diversity, the majority suppress the minority (as always...).

Do we dress because we are rebels? Dress because women can wear men’s clothes and no-one makes any comments but, put a man in a dress, and the world might as well end?

Do we dress because it is our sanctuary, our shelter from the tough, tough world of being a man; from being the hunter and provider, being the figurehead?

Frankly, whilst I have my own opinions and thoughts about why we do what we do, if I’m truly honest, I’d have to say, despite all of my questions, a resounding: I don’t really know!

Still, this article this might give you something to think about the next time you slip in to a nice pair of panties and bra, breast forms, tights and a dress, and get ready to show the world the real you! Mightn’t it?