It took 41 years to finally accept that I should have been born a girl. I have dressed up since the age of 5 (albeit in secrecy).

I found it not only easy to do, because I had plenty of opportunity with having two elder sisters (four and five years older) who were out working while I was still at school, but I also found it, the most natural thing to do. I would get home from school and go straight to my sisters bedroom and try on different dresses. Everything fitted perfectly and felt just right to touch.

The problem I had with it was that it was okay doing it in the privacy of my home, with no one about, but I wanted to live my life like that and be seen as I felt inside, a girl.

It’s almost as if I wanted to get caught by someone. I know the punishment would have been: “So you want to dress like a girl do you? Well, you can wear that for school tomorrow – that’ll teach you!” (Not a punishment in my book.)

When I was 11, it was the Scouts’ Christmas party, and we were all to go in fancy dress. I had heard that two of the older Scouts were going in girls clothes, and I told my Mom that everyone was going as girls. Mom got some of my sister’s clothes and set to work. I acted ignorant about how to put tights on so Mom had to do it for me. I didn’t want her to think I knew what I was doing. She seemed quite pleased with the end result (I was too), but I could not tell her the dress she had selected was also one of my favourites and had been worn on many occasions before.

She also got me a pair of my sister’s platform boots to wear – I had not seen these before and loved them immediately. I walked to the Scout hut (good excuse, I thought) only to find out the party was the following week. With that I just walked home dejected and disappointed, but taking my time. I wanted to make the best of this opportunity.

When I got home I explained the mix up to my Mom not knowing if she would believe it or not. She seemed to believe me, but she did say that next week I could dress myself. The following week came and I got no help from my Mom so I put my thumb straight through the leg of the tights that I was pretending to put on like a novice.

I still didn’t want them to know that I knew what I was doing. It worked, but this time it was my elder sister to the rescue, and she even applied make up which my Mom had not done the week before – much better this time. The local paper was there and took a group photo of us all. When reading the paper my Mom wanted to know why everyone wasn’t dressed as girls, I told her that the ones who did (all three of us) had been set up by the others. A lie I know, but worth it…

I remember when I was about 12; I must have left something in a different place than it should have been in one of my sister’s drawers. Whatever it was, I knew that they suspected something. My Mom came into my bedroom one morning, as I was getting ready for school, with a pair of my sisters knickers. “Your sister is throwing these out, she wondered if you wanted them”? So I was right, they did suspect me. Quite naturally I took them off my Mom and put them on and looked at her and said, “I can’t wear these Mom they don’t look like underpants they look girlie.”

“Well, I did say that to her but I said I’d ask,” she said. I passed that test with flying colours, though I often wonder what might of happened if I had owned up to it, told them how I felt and wore them. Trips to the shrink I think?

The dressing up still continued but I was very careful from then on – but not careful enough. I had stolen a bra and a pair of panties from my elder sisters drawer and hid them in a tin under my bed with the rest of the junk I kept there. I used to put these on under my clothes to deliver my paper round morning and night.

I got in one night from playing with my friends and found my bed on the landing while my Dad was putting up new wallpaper. My Mom had totally emptied the bedroom of all its contents. When my Dad had finished, everything was put back in my bedroom. Everything, except for my tin with the bra and panties in it. I knew I had been discovered, and I was waiting for something to be said. Nothing ever was. I think they must have decided that I might grow out of it, so not to make a fuss about it and make matters worse.

From then on my hiding places were better thought out.

Over the years, I have used all sorts of excuses to wear female clothing in public, from fancy dress, plays (Rocky Horror Picture Show), charity work and even music (I used to have a group and would start off with ‘I Want To Break Free’ dressed like Freddie Mercury in the video).

Once with my first wife I put on a pair of stockings and suspenders (I jokingly said, “lets try something kinky”) and we had great sex, but the next time I suggested the stockings the look on her face said enough.

I divorced 3 years later (not because of the incident above) and met my wife of now. We have been together now for 16 years (11 living together and 5 married). I had told my new wife about the incident above and she said, “I can’t see any harm in that.” So I said, “lets try something kinky” and she didn’t bat an eyelid, but went straight to her drawer and got a pair of stockings out and helped me into them. This became a regular event, and we both enjoyed great sex, which led to my wife buying me my first set of my own underwear. She never once pulled a face or laughed at me, but helped me into whatever she had bought me.

But things still niggled me; I still did not feel happy within myself. I am a 41-year-old man with a bald head and hair everywhere else (back, chest, legs and face). Wearing female clothing as I was doing was alright for sex with my wife but it still didn’t feel right, something was missing. Basically I looked like a man dressed as a woman, hairy arms and legs and a chest like a gorilla. Also at the end of sex, I did not have an excuse to keep wearing what I had on, so off it came leaving me feeling empty inside.

I never once dressed up behind my wife’s back. I would only ever do it with her permission; I think that honesty is very important between each other.

2 years ago I had a terrible injury in work, smashing my left hand. I couldn’t do much with it. Sex with my wife stopped for 18 months – I can’t give you a definite reason why, it certainly wasn’t anything to do with my wife, but pain in my left hand was some of it. The rest of it I put down to not knowing what I was going to do. I found it hard to get my mind to concentrate on one thing (sex), when all I was thinking about doing was coming up with an excuse for putting on the clothes my wife had just took off. My wife never complained about the lack of sex but I knew it was hurting her.

I had taken 2 months off work over the Christmas period just gone, and gave a great deal of thought to my situation and finally came to terms with how I felt. For the last thirty something years I have only ever dreamed of being a woman, and it’s about time I at least accepted that fact. My wife is a very understanding person, I should at least tell her the truth, and put her mind at ease. Time to come clean, and hope it doesn’t hurt anyone.

Having sat my wife down, I showed her the page on the Transformation website Why am I a TV. There were a few tears on both sides (hers, because she thought that I did not love her or find her attractive anymore. Mine because I hate upsetting her, she is the last person on earth I would ever upset.)

After she had read the website and a few contributions from myself, I knew that she fully understood what my problem was and agreed that I could do what I have always wanted, dress as a female whenever I wanted, given the right time and the right place.

After that talk with my wife, I got my razor out and made a start shaving. I also had to think of a name for myself, I’ve noticed how a lot of TV femme names are simply a female name similar to their male name. Why be different, John to Jane works all right for me.

The biggest discussion was about breasts. I have always wanted my own, and after buying a pair of cheap false breasts, we both agreed they do not look or feel like the real thing. So with my wife’s permission I have just started hormone treatment (she even applied the first lot of cream to both breasts and nipples!).

We gave a great deal of thought to what the potential could be and also what problems might occur (bald man in shower at work with 38B chest) we don’t want to broadcast the Transformation I am approaching, so all possibilities had to be looked at. (I would hide my breasts when in public; I have a few ideas for this.)

But no surgery! I do not want to make a decision that cannot be reversed for several reasons. Most importantly my wife still wants a husband (regardless of how he looks or what he is wearing) and I still want to make love to my Wife. I suppose if I’d had the option to choose 30 years ago I would not have hesitated.

So in a strange way I am now getting the best of both worlds, with the right partner not only to understand, but also to take part in my fantasies and encourage them, and finally having admitted to myself and my wife that I am not weird but confused a little. It’s nice to know that I am not on my own in this, I have the full support of the best friend I could ever have – my wife.

There are a lot of people out there just like me, some more confused, some less. I feel the only way forward is to embrace things for what they are and make the best of it. At least being open with my wife about it has cleared a lot of pain for the two of us. We now know where we are coming from, and where we are going. And we are both enjoying it.

My wife knows roughly what kind of clothing I like and she has the experience to know what I can get away with and what I can’t. She buys me at least one full set of underwear per week. Something I haven’t overcome yet – fear of someone guessing our secret. I was always capable of buying sexy lingerie for my wife, but haven’t got the confidence to walk in and buy for myself. I guess it’s a paranoid phobia, thinking that the shop assistant will suspect the suspenders, panties, bra, skirt and top are for me, and not my wife.

Not only is my underwear draw getting full, but I now have two wigs, 4″ stillettos, 2″ court shoes and several skirts and tops (plus anything my wife lets me try on of hers). We are a similar size.

Life at home is now fantastic (it was always good before). I get home from my job of work and jump straight in the bath. Once dry, I apply the breast hormone cream. Then on goes the correct clothing to my mood. Once dressed my wife at first applied the make up, but after a short while, she put her foot down, saying, “no, you do it, I’ll watch.” Her theory behind this being that if I didn’t try, I’d never learn.

This does work quite well, because if I do make a mistake, she points it out there and then, so it is easier to rectify before I have applied any more make up. Surprisingly to myself, I am getting the hang of it (too little looks better than too much). Then to finish it all off, on goes the wig.

Once again, the wife showed me how to make it look just right. The 4″ stilettos gave us both a laugh – I nearly broke my neck trying to walk in them – but with practice walking round the household, I have mastered them.

I agreed with my Wife that coming out to the public was very risky. Where I live people don’t like anything different from the “Blinkered” upbringing they know (it’s a fishing fishing community). However, I would like to go to one of the TV clubs and meet more people like myself who will treat me with the same understanding that they ask for themselves. I think my wife might enjoy the club as well, as she could meet other saints like herself.

It’s amazing how after all this, our lives are back on track with each other, swapping jokes, ideas, clothes and making love better than ever before. A clear conscience can work wonders for a troubled mind. It certainly did mine.

To walk around my town dressed up without an excuse is out of the question, but if a fancy dress party does pop up I know a Gal who can’t wait to get her party gown on!

Hugs and Kisses, Jane DuCidre.

It started when I was eleven years old, my fascination for girl's clothing and crossdressing that is. I remember watching my older sister Katie walk around in skirts, dresses, blouses, all clothing that was infinitely better than anything I wore. It looked nicer, and when I hugged Katie, her clothes felt nicer against my skin, a lot nicer. There were times when I was left on my own in the house; my parents were either at work or out for the afternoon, and my sister was visiting her friends. I had freedom of the house, and since my fascination started, I had only wanted to do one thing: try on my sister's clothing. Many would have found it weird, an eleven-year-old boy wanting to try on girls clothing. I didn't really care at the time, I didn't know what kind of effects it would have on my future. At the time, when life seemed simple, I only saw it to be innocent curiosity that drove me to try on my sister's clothes. I didn't have any idea about the culture that followed it, I didn't know that men and women dressed in clothing of the opposite gender as a lifestyle choice, I would find that out much later in my life. When I entered my sister's room, I had an idea of what it would be like. Pink, filled with girly things ranging from dolls to make up to posters of boy bands and actors. I was definitely mistaken. At the time my sister was sixteen and going through her GCSE's. Her room was painted a cream colour, very few posters decorated the walls, shelves were filled with books and not dolls, and she had a large wardrobe up against the wall. That was my first port of call. I opened it up and was stunned to see everything hanging up so neatly. My sister was a bit of a neat freak, everything was out of place, and it was rumoured that she could see from a first glance whether or not something was out of place. I always believed that Katie had some sort of second sight for these things. It was proved right when I was first caught by her. Coincidently, it was also the same day I started trying on girl's clothing.

When my parents and Katie had gone out, leaving me alone, I went into her room and opened up Katie's wardrobe. I was instantly drawn to the dresses. She had an ankle-length purple dress with straps. Now on Katie, it would have gone down to her ankles, but when I tried it on, it went down to the floor and even bunched up leaving a small tail of fabric. It didn't matter to me at the time; I simply stripped to my underwear and slipped the dress on over me. It didn't even need to unbutton the back of the dress. I looked at myself in the mirror that was placed on the inside of the door. My green eyes staring at the figure in the oversized dress. I felt the satin against my skin, and I liked it. I still looked like a little boy trying on adult clothes though, I had short brown hair back then, my parents choosing my hair cuts and how I looked for my time at school. I was going to take the dress and hang it back up to try on another item of my sister's clothing when I heard the door open. Someone stepped inside, and I was unaware who it was until I Katie shout up to me. "Rain! I'm home," she called out to me. I guess you are wondering about my name. Yes, I am called Rain. My full name is Rain Alexander Edmonds. My sister is Katie Elizabeth Edmonds and my mother and father are called Rebecca and John Edmonds respectively. I don't know why my parents named me Rain, it wasn't to do with the weather, I was born on Saturday, October 20th, 1990, and according to my parents and sister it was a sweltering hot day so how Rain came into the conversation is a mystery. Anyway, back to the story.

When I found that my sister returned; the first thing that went through my mind was a close resemblance of the words "oh crap" ran through my mind. I still hadn't changed out of Katie's dress and my clothes were strewn over the floor. I was going to be found and instantly my mind told me to hide. I immediately jumped into the wardrobe and closed the door behind me. I remember that exact feeling when I was hiding from my sister. My heart was pounding, it felt like it was going to burst from my chest in a similar style to the Alien Quadrilogy. It would have solved some problems though, first off I would have been dead, and I wouldn't have to face my sister's wrath when she found I had tried on her clothes. She probably would have tried to resurrect my body and then kill me all over again for it. "Rain, where are you?" I could hear Katie from outside the room, and I hoped she would think I was somewhere else. This was the moment I found my sister really did have second sight. I overheard her muttering that she had shut the door to the bedroom before she left, and I foolishly left it open. She knew I would be in her room, and the fact that my clothes were left out for all to see didn't help that. "Come on Rain, I know you are in here. If you don't come out until the count of five then I will be forced to tell mum and dad," she stated with a calm and methodical voice. Katie didn't raise her tone, she didn't have to.

Knowing that Katie would tell our parents that I had been hiding in her room was really the only contributing factor of actually giving myself up. That and if I had continued to hide in her wardrobe, any chance of denying it would be useless considering I had left my clothes out. She started counting down, and I knew it was now or face the wrath of my parents. They would never have understood it back then, but it was likely that they had taken it down to a phase in growing up. The old 'curiosity killed the cat' saying. They would have forgotten it, and just told me never to do it again. I didn't even know how my sister would have reacted, but it didn't matter. I had to come clean and so, I pushed open the door to the wardrobe and shuffled out into the plain sight of my sister. For a moment Katie was quiet, she just stared at me. I was expecting her to start shouting and screaming at me, ordering me out of the dress and to get changed. I was definitely wrong. Katie hugged me. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, a smile was on her face. I was dumbfounded, awestruck, amazed that I wasn't deaf from the screaming and shouting that I had originally expected. She in fact explained to me that she had really wanted a little sister instead of a brother. I didn't understand it at the time, but if I did fully take into account the words back then I might have been offended, but I knew she still loved me. Katie told me she was happy having a little brother, and when she saw me wear her dress, she actually liked it. Sure she was a bit annoyed that I tried her dress on without asking, but she didn't let it overshadow the clear fact we had just come closer together. I explained to her my reasons, why I was wearing her dress and hiding from her. The fact that I liked the look and feel of girl's clothing, and was curious to try something on. Katie asked me if I liked it, and I said yes. I truly did like wearing Katie's dress, and I told her that I wanted to try more clothes on.

What she did next definitely surprised me. She took the dress off me and hung it up, instructing me to get changed into my previous clothes. When I was finished, Katie told me to follow her down to the basement. Now at the time when I was eleven years old, I had in fact been scared of the basement. My grandfather told me stories of monsters in the basement, and I'm ashamed to say that I believed him to that point. It turned out that our parents had kept boxes of old clothes going back in the years. Every outfit of value and importance was sitting in the cases. My first football kit. Katie's first ballet outfit. Both mine and Katie's school uniforms from the school. Our parents had the odd habit of sorting things out into boxes with the ages written on, and it actually helped Katie with what she was doing. My sister brought out a box of clothes from when she was eleven years old. That was a great year, apparently. My aunt and uncle got married, Katie finished primary school, she performed the lead role in a ballet recital of Swan Lake, and there was the first family vacation, a cruise to the Mediterranean. The outfits were going to be for me. Katie explained to me that she had always wanted a younger sister so that she could have someone to practice giving make-overs, and dressing up. Now that she had found out I wanted to wear girl's clothing more, she explained to me that she was going to dress me up and give me the make-overs she had wanted to give to a little sister. I was filling the shoes of being Katie's younger sister, even if it was only at random dates and times. It would only happen when the parents were out. We would have started that day, but unfortunately, our parents had returned earlier than expected. It didn't matter to me, or to Katie though. It was the start of something new, a fun new experience that would bring us closer together as siblings.

The first time we had together was the following weekend. Our parents had been invited to a ball in London. Katie had managed to talk them into allowing her to stay and look after me, without the help of our grandparents. During the week, Katie was only at school for half of each day and had a day off on Thursday. During that time she went shopping, and she purchased a wig, along with a few essential supplies. The Saturday that my parents left, we got started. I found out about the wig, it was a blonde wig in the style of a pixie cut. At first, I was nervous about what was going to happen to me. The first chance to dress up had been going through my mind, it caused me to lose track of my school work at some points during lessons. My parents weren't too pleased about it, but they just told me to pay attention at school. No one asked why I was distracted, something I was pleased to have avoided, but I could have easily used any excuse to get out of that. Luckily, the weekend came by quite quickly though, and soon, the Saturday my parents left for London came around, and Katie and I were left alone. I thought we were going to start with what Katie called a 'dressing up session' straight away, but my sister had other ideas first. She told me to wait upstairs, and so I did. I sat for an hour playing computer games, at the same time I was getting anxious, I couldn't wait to try on the clothes, and when the time came, Katie called me down to the basement. Katie had been busy; she moved things around, creating two separate areas. The first area consisted of an old vanity table that had taken Katie a great deal of time to move out and to fix the vanity mirror back on. It was made of white wood, and it had sat in their parent's bedroom before they replaced it with the current vanity mirror. On top of that were numerous articles of makeup ranging from false nails to false lashes, along with lipstick, mascara, eyeliner pencils and eye shadow sets. Various blush colours were ready, and the contributing brushes. Numerous foundation tubs were waiting with cotton wall pads. Next to the mirror, was a bust of some person head made from marble. According to Katie, it was a very expensive piece in which they had to be careful. (Little did we realise that three years later, my dad would only go and break it while taking it to be appraised and possibly sold on.)

The second area was for dressing up. A clothing rack of all the outfits I would be trying on had been set up, with a dressing screen and a basket to put the clothing I had been wearing at the time. Nothing was spared, Katie had thought of everything for what they were going to do. She had prepared bottles of water and glasses, a few biscuits and some snacks, she had even brought the phone down into the basement so that if their parents phoned like they said they would, then we wouldn't raise suspicion by being late to answer. (Our parents once scolded my aunt and uncle for not answering the phone by a certain time when they looked after me and Katie. It was purely because of the fact we had been sat out in the garden enjoying the sun.)

"What do you think?" Katie asked as she watched me walk on towards the vanity table, and then walk onto the rack of clothing that she had laid out. Katie had brought her bridesmaid dress out, the white gown with the green sash wrapped around the waist, tied in a bow behind, and the puffed sleeves. A pair of green flats had been brought to wear with them. A pink gown with a darker pink sash, a dark pink rose attached to the front of the bodice and two strips of satin to wrap around the arms was hanging behind it. That had been Katie's gown when they went on the cruise. Her school uniform: A red pleated skirt, white long sleeve blouse, knee-high socks and a bow tie. (my sister went to an all girl's school that gave her more ideas than just being a make-up artist, but we'll get to that later.) Sitting at the bottom of the rack of clothes was a pair of black loathers that she wore. Quite cute, if I do say so myself. Slip-on with a bow at the front of both shoes. The next outfit was a costume that Katie had purchased during the week of Belle from Beauty and the Beast. There wasn't another outfit hanging on the rack after the Belle costume, but according to Katie, she was going to try and dig some more out for me, just to give an experience of wearing clothes other than those of a formal nature. I was both happy and nervous by that fact. I would have been happy with just trying on the outfits Katie had prepared beforehand. I knew what was coming, but hearing the prospect of something new being prepared gave me a small feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what to expect. Still, whatever was going to happen was happening because I wanted it to. My sister didn't have to force me, she didn't have to use blackmail or threaten to tell the parents. The first part of the dressing up session was Katie sitting me down on the chair and getting to work. Katie worked on the foundation, covering my face and correcting the tone of my skin. Katie certainly was an expert at giving makeovers. While she worked, Katie explained to me that she had volunteered to help out at her school during the past year with the drama department, helping out with the make-overs for every actress that was performing. Of course, it was kept under wraps because of our parents, but I'm thankful that Katie actually kept up her make-up practice.

After about forty-five minutes of working on my make-up, I found myself looking like a little girl which I was stunned to see. I looked in the mirror and from that point on I was known as Rin (again, it's a strange name, I know. My sister liked to read fantasy novels, she still does.) and I was Katie's younger sister. The next task for us both was to get me dressed. My sister took me behind the dressing screen where she... well I won't go into detail. You probably get the idea of what happened. I emerged moments later in a white girl's underwear and a pink dressing gown. While I sat down and had a biscuit, Katie went on and prepared the first outfit. I was dressed up as Belle. Now that was a weird outfit. Petticoats on first, all three of them. I could never understand how women could wear those things. The gown afterwards was made of satin, and actually quite comfortable against my own body. I was surprised it fitted me. While I was being dressed, my sister explained that she purchased the outfit for a twelve-year-old. It would be a better fit on me than that of an outfit for an eleven-year-old. I didn't understand it back then, but as time went on I came to understand that every outfit was different in terms of the body shape. The body structure between men and women are different, and so that while costumes will be the same age, the shape of the female outfit will not always fit the male body. (God I hope that made sense.) The outfit had everything; the gloves, the shoes, even a wig, though we kept that off as it looked completely ridiculous. I wouldn't have looked like Belle. This wig was short, curled with ribbons in the hair and unfortunately very irritating. (Looking back on it, I think the wig was styled after the hairstyles of Southern Belles of America and not Belle from Disney movie.)

That afternoon, I relaxed and took the weight of keeping my crossdressing secret off of my shoulders. I was happy, thankful that Katie was there with me, talking me through the stages of getting dressed up, the fabrics used to create every outfit and what they meant to me. Katie explained everything. Amazingly, I was expecting something a little stranger and longer, but Katie dressed me in every outfit, explained what it included, and why they were being used and what for. A lot of it I had a vague idea, I remembered the cruise and what my sister had worn was for the formal evening dinners. That was just one of the gowns she wore, and as much as she looked, Katie couldn't find the other two evening dresses she wore, which, in all honesty, wasn't much of a problem. I had tried on numerous clothes at that point and there were other times in the future that Katie and I did similar activities.

That weekend, I was stunned to be offered £50 to be dressed in whatever my sister dressed me in, and while I was expecting something very feminine and scary, it wasn't too bad. During the rest of the afternoon and the evening, I was dressed in something similar to my sister's old school uniform. A pink knee-length skirt, white socks, pink trainers, a white long sleeve blouse and a denim waistcoat. That was before dinner, in which I was dressed in the bridesmaid dress that I had tried on a few hours before, and I slept in a set of baby blue footsie pyjamas. Amazing, one evening, a night and a morning of being dressed up by my sister and I earned £50 from it. I didn't tell anyone about it until I was seventeen years old and part of a college LGBT group. It was discussed between myself and my friends. The next morning, we found our parents wouldn't be back until later that evening, so it gave Katie enough time to set everything right. She cleared all of the make-up, and I helped with clearing up the basement, even while wearing my sister's chosen outfit. We got through the cleanup, and I was back into my original jogging bottoms and t-shirt by 4 that afternoon. Our parents returned an hour later, and they were none the wiser.

A Short Story - Samantha's First Dress 

I know someone else said this already, but, like many stories, mine starts at the beginning. Now it is probably a good idea to launch into a fine array of theories as to why people cross dress. I will do that in time but as this is essentially one person's account of female impersonation, I will keep the clinical stuff and the psycho-babble to a minimum. This story will be interspersed by random musings on the causes of this constellation of femininity - but it is beyond the scope of this writer to offer anything new, save for his/her own experiences. So on with the show...   My first dress (clearing my throat now, like any great storyteller) was one of the prettiest sights my young male eyes had ever seen. It was of a silk-like material and while predominately white, it had pretty little blue and yellow birds variegated throught its delicate cut. There was aplique on the hem and around the short sleeves and it seemed to whisper femininity when it was disturbed. Just looking at this fine garment set off fireworks in my head and butterflies in my stomach. I knew instantly that I wanted it, and more importantly, that I wanted to wear it. There was of course a small problem, I was six years old and it belonged to my eight year old sister. So with all the ingenuity that a six year old could muster I took the unprecedented step of getting actively involved in my older sisters' games and, once I had infiltrated their girlie society, I ventured a new game of my own devising. "Why don't we all play dress up?", I said with a conviction that belied my uncertainty. To my eternal surprise they acceeded instantly and without any conferring. I was soon to learn why. You see, 'dress up' for them was the perfect opportunity to humiliate their otherwise aloof little brother. They understood this tacitly and began, with great urgency, the transformation process. A smear of soot above their lips from the old chimney and the donning of some ties and they were complete. I would have protested at their hastily improvised male guises, but I was far too eager to move on to myself. They launched at me with obvious glee and held up a dress for me to climb into. "Wait!", I screamed. I didn't want just any dress, I wanted that dress. But how could I articulate that without betraying my cunning? Necessity is the mother of invention they say and a new twist to the game had just been neccessitated. "You lay all the dresses on the bed there, and I'll close my eyes and jump on one." Brilliant!! "That will be my dress", I insisted.   It mattered little to them which dress I wore, so they gave each other a cursory look and then nodded affirmatively in unison. Closing my eyes I made a mental note of where 'my' dress was and jumped headlong at it - a manouvere that pre-figured my dressing in later life. A considerable crash and bruised cheek later, I lay on the floor dazed. My eldest sister holding my prize above me - that dress. It had an incredible anodyne effect on my post-crash aches and my transformation began in earnest.   That first experience was the beginning of a life of dressing. I went through all the various stages: Plastering lipstick en masse; donning every fuax pas fashion could muster; wearing heels and walking like an ostrich. These days, I'm pleased to say, I have mcuh more fashion sense, have finally got to grips with liquid eyeliner and am generating a much stronger female aura - all good things come in time. Vive la femme!! Samantha

What can it possibly feel like to be transgender?

It's difficult to imagine what it must feel like to be transgender if you are not. And if you are not transgender then your mind and your body match. One way to try to understand what it's like to be transgendered would be as this example...

Let us for instance imagine that you are a genetically born woman who is attractive and feminine. Now imagine that you wake up one day and find that you are suddenly a man. You can no longer wear your earrings or jewelry, your hair will be cut and you can wear no makeup or any of the colourful and expressive feminine clothes you wore.  You find that you now have muscles and are covered with hair on your body. You will be treated as a man by your fellow women and must now try to act as a man in order to integrate with them.

You are now required to do this for the rest of your life.

Every time you get dressed, every time you gaze into the mirror, every time you come in contact with another person; who you know yourself to be and who you appear to be are in complete contrast. Stress will build as you are forced to be who you are not. Welcome to being transgender.

Yes, we are born with a sense of self identity and yes, we are born with sexual characteristic of either a male or a female. But the sense of identity does not always match the equipment we are given. Most who are transgender know they are different from the earliest of ages, some as far back as age 4 or earlier if they can remember so far back.

For most, the issue occurs as a result of hormonal imbalances in the developing fetus and results in a brain which develops outside of the norm of the physical sex. the incongruity never goes away and it can never be "cured" to match the way the brain perceives one's to the body it has been dealt.

It is very very fundamentally important to state that gender and sexual preference are two separate things entirely. The first thoughts by many may be that one who presents as a woman must be interested in sex with men. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sexual identification is who we wish to be intimate with while gender identification is who we see ourselves as within the inner reflection of the mirror of our mind.

To learn a little more about some of the other scientific research going on surrounding this condition, please see:

I probably didn't mention the stress which is involved with having to hide a whole piece of oneself from the world. Each day becomes a struggle as one plays the facade of who we physically are born as and hides who we are inside from the rest of the world to avoid potential ridicule. It eats at a person by day and in dreams at night. It never goes away and unless steps are taken to materialize who we are inside, it can cause a complete nervous breakdown - I should know - I hit that wall - 40 years of holding it inside....

This is what it is like to be transgender.

Now the question I propose is this.... Just as thought, if you woke up and suddenly found yourself one morning in the body of the opposite sex and would have to live and socialize in that body as that gender,  what would you do?  For a person born transgender, they generally have felt like this from a very early age.  It is something they deal with often for the rest of their life....  

Hi my name is Bob/Emma and this is a short story about myself and most of all to thank and praise for all the help that Diane and her team at the Prestwich branch of Transformation that have helped me to understand the feelings in my mind and body of being a female trapped in a male body for the last 45 years plus ,with no one to talk to or to understand me as there was no internet to find out about things.

Thinking back when I was a child and growing up into my teenage years I loved looking at my mums mail order catalogue pretending I was looking at toys but really looking at women’s underwear  shoes and dresses. At that time in my life I suppose I thought that was normal but maybe not the right thing to be looking at I never told anybody not even my brother.

At school at break time i was always with the girls I enjoyed their company more then the boys and I did not like any male sports football rugby etc and still don’t today.

As time went on and I started work as a mechanic in the car trade as I loved cars. This is a very male trade but I got on ok but I never joined in going out with the lads for a drink .

I found myself more at ease with the girls on reception, they all loved me because I was and have been all my life kind and gentle and very loving and never swear. As you know in workshops there is always a calendar with naked young ladies on when I looked at them the male in me said she was gorgeous but also the female side of me  said I wish I looked like them I still feel that way today but more so.

I got married in my early twenties which was the thing you did. This gave me a great opportunity to put my wife’s undies and clothes on while she was out.

I started buying my own bra and knickers and and would put them under my work clothes and this felt great. Wearing women’s clothes or underwear then was mostly called crossdressing or being a transvestite but I felt I was neither of these.  I was something else, I was different but who do I talk to, there was nobody.

Maybe I got married too early in my life as after 6 years I got divorced. I think maybe that was my fault as I love talking to woman and my wife was very jealous. I told her that i just liked talking to women and there was nothing for her to worry about but she did not know about me wearing women’s clothes.

I got my own flat and my own garage and that’s where I met and fell in love with my second wife. We got married and and have two beautiful daughters 20 and 24 years old and been together for 30 years.

My wife worked shifts and over the years I got plenty of chances of dressing up and being the woman that I wanted in my heart to be. I have built up a very large collection of clothes which i keep in the attic in the garage for example over 200 pairs of knickers 50/60 bras 20 pairs of heels which I love, dozens of pairs of stockings tights and hold ups, 8 wigs, 6 pairs of silicone breasts and lots more of tops /skirts/dresses coats and much more.

The years passed by we did all the things that family’s do and in the meantime still finding time to dress up but not as much still keeping it a secret until one day 4 years ago my wife and daughters went shopping together and I  thought this is great a good chance to dress up and do some decorating dressed as Emma.

Then DIASTER struck, I heard the front door unlock they had come home early they changed there minds. Luckily enough I was on the landing looking in the mirror I always kept my male clothes in the bathroom just in case this happened.

And then it happened i had left a pair of knickers on the floor the only mistake i had ever made in all the years I had been dressing up. I always put on 3 pairs when dressing up as one pair does not keep you bits in place very well 3 is just right a girl cant have to many pairs of knickers. I was one pair missing.

I got dressed in my male clothes put my female clothes tucked under my shirt and down my pants then put them in a cupboard in the garage where i used to keep a case with my favourite clothes in then carried on working.

In the evening I asked my wife had she found some knickers on the landing she said I have put them in the washing bin why do you ask. At that moment I thought shall I say they are mine or keep quit . Well I said they are mine all went silent she was shocked.

We talked for sometime and her main concern was she felt cheated that all these years together she thought she had married a man and not a woman and always thought I was a man to love and rely and trust upon.

We had a long talk I said i am not a woman I am still Bob the man you married but i just love woman’s clothes and dressing up .The truth is I hate wearing men’s clothes. I  just love the feel and all the huge choice of women’s clothing I did not tell her that at this time . 4 years have passed since that day it solved some issues but also made some worse.

Emma was free to be herself without keeping it secret from my wife she agreed that I could wear my female clothes when making tea or watching t v as long as the girls are not about but only now and then I said that’s great thank you .

What do girls do that make themselves more feminine ? You’ve guessed it they shave all their body hair off, shape and paint their toe nails red, polish there finger nails put woman’s deodorant on. I love that smell and sleep in their undies. I did all these but not all at once as this was not a good idea.

At this point my wife had enough she said that she could not carry on living in the house with with another woman which she referred to as my girlfriend it will have to stop or we split up.

We talked again I said I would move out and live on my own but she said  don’t  as she still loved me and wanted Bob back as he was try and sort Emma as she is ruining our relationship she is making you very selfish you are thinking about being female 24/7.

I am not selfish in anyway I love to give and to treat and love everyone in my life.

She was right i had to change the way that Emma had made me feel but for the better.

That’s 18 months ago and I tried to switch Emma off. I stopped dressing up and looking at woman thinking I wish I looked like them. The female body is just amazing, woman are fantastic too often taken for granted and they can make babies how fantastic is that and I wanted to be one.

Most days I would feel mixed up and being pulled one way and then the other I can understand being transgender is why some people do self harm and take there own lives I said to myself I need help.

I went on line looked at many sites and then I plucked up the courage and one day phoned Transformations. Diane answered the phone after a long conversation I knew she understood how I felt and was there to help me I love her and her voice I could talk to Diane all day.

Diane recommended that I go on a course of hormones, I was a bit sceptical and cautious as I have read about them some good and some bad reports but I trusted her and placed an order.

The following day they were delivered to the garage where I work.

It’s the best thing I have ever done. WOW they are amazing they take away that feeling of being pulled male to female which very hard for other people to understand. They make me feel female and the Emma in me very happy and content i have been taking them for over 12 months now and my skin is softer. My nails are long and strong and my breasts have got a bit bigger. Still a long way to get my 38dd which is my dream maybe one day I might have implants.

Its taken 4  months and now I think i have found the perfect balance that keeps everyone happy.

Last December leading up to Christmas I plucked up the courage and went shopping with my 38 DD padded bra and breasts in and a tight top on all on show they look and feel fantastic, did my shopping and then changed back into my male clothes in my car.

I thought I cant believe I did that a few days later i did the same again but this time with woman’s ankle boots with 3 inch heels on. WOW the noise of the heels and bounce of my boobs felt amazing. I wouldn’t have had the confidence to do that 12 months ago.

I do this 3 /4 times a week plus wear a bra to work every day. Emma is very happy and content . I have found that if I turn her off when I am at home and just keep Emma to be in my time going to work and back everything is fine.I still dress up at home when I can sometimes at 6 am before I go to work when there is nobody else up.

Well this short story has grown a bit this is only the tip of the iceberg there’s more to say, I could write a book.

My wife has not mentioned my female side for 4 months and I have never seen her so happy, we feel great together.

You might be asking where do I go from here well I would love to have a sex change if they were being given out for free I would be first in line to have it done. The biggest problem would be all the people in my life and their responses and making my family sad. Maybe one day. I would love to tell everyone at work but again I think they would be either very inquisitive or just not want to understand.

Last of all i think that if everyone could just wear what clothing they feel comfortable in be it male or female and not what society requires it would be a wonderful world . I Think that everyone has a little bit of transgender in themselves but just to frightened to explore it.

There is so much out there now that if I was in my 20/30s and felt like I do I would have a sex change without any doubt you never know in the future would it be great to be able to swap minds male to female female to male as that is where it all stems from it would save all swapping body bits ha ha..

I have no idea what it is like to be male one day I might get my dream body and get rid of my bits below which I hate .

I can’t thank Diane enough for all her help and advice she is amazing love her so much.

That’s it I wish I was a woman all my love to everyone who reads this I know what you are going through all my love Emma xxxxxxxxxxxxx would love to wear my 👠 every day if only i could, I was born for heelsxxxxxxxx

It was in 1969 that I first revealed my secret to another woman…. I felt I just had to. I had invited my boss’s secretary for a drink and I felt she would understand. I slipped her a couple of photo’s of myself dressed as Christine. Yes, she understood alright, although she said she would never have suspected such a thing of me! The next week she visited me at my home. This became a regular event when we would sit and sip sherry in a ladylike fashion. Soon I was showing her my large range of lingerie. One day she asked to feel the material of certain undies I was wearing. I stepped over to the armchair in which she was sitting, and her hand felt the nylon slip and then ran up and down my sheer black stockings until she touched the crotch of my panties. I gasped as it had a sensational effect on me. “Nice?” she asked, as her fingers began to move slowly up and down, brushing the nylon against my now stiffening penis. Of course, she went on until I exploded in a wonderful orgasm, and that was the beginning of a relationship which lasted some years. Every time she visited, or I visited her flat, it ended up with her giving me a lovely orgasm. Sometimes she would be at me almost before the downing of our first sherry or whatever we may be drinking. I hardly had time to strip down to my nice undies before her fingers would close around and work on me until I was trembling at the knees. As I backed off and collapsed in an armchair breathing heavily, I still wanted more. On days when she  was feeling rather sexy herself, she would disappear to my bedroom and strip off, she would borrow my black sheer negligee and re-appear beside me and we both pleasured each other. One day she asked if I wanted to meet a woman friend of hers called Bea, Bea liked to watch other please each other and she also had a friend called Mary who liked to apply make to cross dressers. The four of us meeting together for the first time was mind blowing and this happened once a month. My wife knew all about what went on and was happy to turn a blind eye, our children had flown the next and she was happy to go to work each day, we lead a normal life really. I now have a wild circle of female friends and still like to flaunt myself in front of them.

Eddy Walsh rang the bell on the door of the Mews flat. It was swung open by a young lady in her early twenties. Eddy’s eyes widened, she was very pretty and dressed in a most attractive maid’s uniform-grey satin dress with a short, flared skirt topped by a tiny frilly apron and French maid’s cap to match. “yes” she inquired in a Swedish accent. “I’ve come to service the central heating” Eddy replied. Ah yes, Madam said you would be coming, please come in.

Once inside Eddy looked round at the expensive furniture and decorations with some envy. He had been working on his own for only two weeks and was not yet used to going into other people’s homes. Please follow me the maid said, and she led the way to the boiler room. Thanks love, Eddy said, I will start on the boiler then check the radiators. Eddy thought about the girl as he worked. What a little cracker and quite friendly. He would chat her up a bit, then insist that she came with him to check the radiators. Once in her bedroom, well, he would see what developed.

Eddy was just about to call her when she appeared. You like some tea? She asked. Oh, please. We can have a quick cuppa and then you can show me the radiators. Yes, what is you name please? Eddy, what’s yours? My name is Olga, please follow. As they sat in the kitchen drinking their tea, they started to make small talk. I am aupair to Madam Hastings she explained. An aupair? But I thought that meant living as one of the family. Oh yes, madam is very kind. But you have to wear a uniform? Yes, madam insists but I don’t mind. It looks very pretty, no?  Oh yes, Eddy said, very pretty, indeed.

We look at radiators now? Right, come on. Eddy got up and his hand went to her well, shaped bottom. As he squeezed she nestled back onto his palm, wriggling slightly. Come on your naughty boy, she said. Err, how long is your mistress going to be out? Olga fluttered her eyelashes, oh long enough I think. Actually, Eddy didn’t care. This girl was asking for it and she was going to get it.

She showed him round the flat until they came to a very large bedroom which contained a huge double bed. Eddy checked the radiator, then straightened up. And now, where is your bedroom? Here Olga replied. You mean you sleep in that bed? Yes. But where does your mistress sleep? Here, she said again. You sleep together? Oh yes Olga replied smiling broadly. And does she………? Eddy started. Olga was young but experienced. Yes, she does but she is very gentle with me. Too gentle sometimes and arched her eyebrows. Eddie was over to her in three strides and pushed her back on the bed. Her hand went to his crotch as he grasped one of her breasts. Each had a hand on the other’s buttocks. Their lips met, and her tongue pushed its way into his mouth. He stopped and got up. What is wrong? She asked. Just getting my jeans off. Get your knickers down. No, no Eddy, that is your job she replied with a giggle. Eddy did not take long to do it and very soon his bare buttocks were jumping up and down between her willing thighs.

Eventually Eddy gave a deep sigh and lay flat on Olga. And just what is going on here? Said a deep contralto voice. Eddy looked up. In the doorway stood a tall blonde woman in a long red cape and red knee-length boots. Eddy jumped up looking round for his jeans. Olga gave a squeal and scrambled off the bed. Just who the hell are you? The woman asked. I, er….came to service the central heating Eddy replied. Instead you service my maid, eh? I’m sorry Madam Olga started. I will deal with you in a minute young lady. You, you little rapist, what excuse, if any, have you got? I didn’t rape her Eddy protested. She looked at Olga. He did rape you didn’t he my dear? Oh err….. yes, madam. I could not stop him. Well young man, do I ring the police or do I deal with you? Eddy as trapped and he knew it. Please don’t ring the police, he begged. We will see. Both of you get all your clothes off. Olga had stripped already. Go and get the twelve inch tawse, Olga, madam ordered. By the tine Olga returned, Eddy was naked with his hands firmly clasped in front of him. The pair of you, over the bed side by side, Madam ordered. Please madam, he made me Olga said. Silly girl. That story is for the police. Now get over.

Madam Hastings contemplated the two lovely young bottoms in front of her. She really enjoyed doing this. Six of the best each, then six more for him if he would not sign a full confession, and so on until he did.

Whack, Whack< Whack, the strokes went on, reddening the bottoms more each time. Now madam said when they had each had their dose. You, miss, go and make my tea and you, young man, I want a signed confession, or you get six more. Eddy straightened up. But why? He said through his tears. You’re a good-looking young man. It will be convenient to be able to call on your services whenever I want to. There was a small desk and chair in the corner of the room. She plonked a pillow on the chair. Now sit down there and get writing…I will dictate.  

Dawn's Transgender Story Most of the time Dawn lives as a man using a male name. However, she considers herself to be transgender.

Dawn, who works as an occupational health nurse on an oil platform, describes growing up as a boy who liked to dress in girls' clothes. She hid that part of her identity when she was in the Air Force, but in recent years she's become more open about her feminine side. "As far back as infant school I remember playing with dolls and dressing in my sister's clothes. I also remember feeling upset that girls wore skirts and boys didn't. "When I was about 10 or 11, I used to escape through the bedroom window at night and walk around town in girls' clothes. Once, I got caught by the police and taken home. My mother then took me to see a psychologist. "I think we saw the psychologist two or three times. At one stage, he asked me: 'Do you want to be a girl?' My parents were sitting with me, so I gave an answer they wanted to hear rather than the truthful answer. Looking back, I think if they hadn't been there, things might have been different. "After that, I kept that side of me hidden even more because it upset my parents. I kept myself as busy as possible at home, but the feelings never went away. "I chose the name Dawn when I was about 12 years old. I wanted to be 'me', and my given male name didn't have a female version. I thought for a long time before settling on Dawn. "Dawn has many meanings: the start of a new day, or a realisation. But I chose it mainly because I like the name, and the few people I knew who were called Dawn seemed like nice people. "I lived in a small town in Wiltshire with few job prospects, so when I was 16 I joined the Air Force. I became an aircraft mechanic for a short time before switching to nursing. That's what I've done ever since. "Back then, being trans in the Air Force was a big problem, so I kept it hidden. I found out about trans groups through other people and from newspaper articles. In the 1970s and 1980s there wasn't much publicity, so you heard about it from agony aunts such as Clare Rayner and Marje Proops. "While I was still in the Air Force, I visited trans groups in Bristol and London. It was an opportunity to meet like-minded people and to realise that I wasn't alone." Meeting my partner, Jules "In 1985 I moved to London and left the Air Force. It was the first time I'd lived completely on my own. As I was away from family and friends, I seriously considered transitioning [living full-time as a woman]. For nearly one year I dressed as a woman except when I was at work. "Then I met Jules, my partner, an absolutely wonderful woman. I decided that my priority was to stay with her rather than transition. "Shortly after we started going out together, we moved to the coast. Cornwall, our new home, was very different from London, and I hid my trans side initially. "Only in recent years have we started being more open. I dress in women's clothes maybe once or twice a week when I'm at home, and when Jules and I go to National Trust places, to the cinema or for dinner. But we generally do it away from our home town so that people who know us won't see us. "My two sisters know that I'm trans. My parents don't know, or if they do know they haven't said anything about it. Jules' parents know. She told them when we first started dating, and I've been out with them dressed in women's clothes. "We try to tell people only if they need to know, but I don't like hiding it. l'd like everyone to know and not worry about it, but Jules would rather keep it a bit quieter." Being found out at work "Recently I was found out at work. I'm a nurse on an oil platform, and I was moving to another platform. Somebody emptied my locker for me and sent the contents to the next platform. People on my new platform also saw photographs of me on the internet. "It was quite upsetting when I got a phone call warning me to be careful at work because all this information was out. "I was expecting ridicule, abuse and possibly discrimination from the management team, but it was the total opposite. The management team supported me 100%, and the people who made a big fuss about it were taken off the platform. "Being accepted at work was a humbling experience. My work colleagues' support and relaxed attitude has made me feel valued and wanted. "I don't tell people that I'm trans. It doesn't come up in conversation, and it's not important to my work, but I don't have to keep it a secret any more. "Being a transgender person isn't easy, although I've had an easier time than most people. I've had a lot of frustration. I've had to keep my feminine side secret, and I try to conform to what society expects. But now that I'm older, I feel more confident about my gender identity. "I like to think that having a strong feminine side has helped me to help other people, which is good for my nursing. It possibly gives me a more caring nature. But as I've always been trans, I have nothing to compare it against. "I know that if I were given the option, I wouldn't like to lose the feminine side of my life. I wouldn't be me."

Nighties, whether designed to be worn by men or women, have been the first preference for all looking for comfort wear.  All across the world, nighties have been designed to be worn by women whereas pyjamas, trousers and shirts have been designed for men's nightwear. However, a handful of men all across the world have a passion to wear female nighties rather than male's nightwear. Reason for this liking amongst men is the fact that female wear is more comfortable and relaxing.

On the other hand, not all men, and a majority of females, do not like the idea of wearing nighties. Rather they prefer a pyjama’s or other men's nightwear as nighties is not a socially acceptable phenomenon for men. Therefore a lot of people have a query of whether men can wear these nighties or not. One of the most commonly asked questions by many wives from all across the globe, and which can be found on almost every blog is whether their husbands can wear nighties or not? Since my grandfather's era, men have stopped buying 'Nightshirts' which were a long soft shirt-like gown. My son wears a long oversized 'T-shirt' (or nothing). Since women wear pyjama’s there is no right or wrong answer. The answer to this query will depend upon your own perception and your will to go against rather meaningless old fashioned fashion statements. Really, who cares in the dark at night.

Every individual has the freedom and the right to do anything and everything he wants to do.  However, a few people tend to follow these and do whatever they like, whereas some tend to follow the norms set by obscure people in the fashion industry and our nervous 'Peer Pressure' society and fail to break or deviate from those values. Wearing of nighties by males is not socially acceptable but still, a small minority tend to wear it. Furthermore, many females consider males wearing nighties at night sexier as compared to their looks in the men's nightwear.

The only reason for discouraging men from wearing nighties at night is the fact that it has been associated with females and has a distinct 'Dress shape' to it. All these associations have been socially developed, and take great courage from men to be revolutionised.

I have agreed to do this but I am so scared, yes scared though my wife thinks I am being stupid. I have shaved and am smooth as can be, my makeup is perfect and I start to dress and know that I am shaking too much but she just laughs at me. I put on my panties and bra, adjust my bra to fit my breast forms perfectly and then slip on my carefully chosen cami "look, no one will know" my wife tries to assure me, but still I shake. I pull on my tights over my silky legs and then slip into my cream blouse and smart knee-length skirt and as I put on my business heels admire my painted toe and fingernails. 

We go outside, it is a weekday so all my neighbours are at work, or at least I hope they are as I slide into the passenger seat of our car. Mt wife expertly drives us into town and through the maze of one way systems to the car park where I quake again. We get out, I have been out many times before but this is so different that even my wife cannot understand. We travel down in a lift to the shopping mall with a couple of oldies whose male member hold the doors open for us, "ladies" he says politely - it doesn't reassure me. We walk into the shop after much agonising on my part and much reassurance on my wife's and we head for the underwear department. I stand nervously as my wife seeks out who we have come for and a matronly woman in a smart skirt suit appears and smiles and asks us "to follow me". She takes us into the female changing area and asks us to take off our tops. I cringe and wish I could run away but stay and take off my blouse. For some reason I fuss over it, making sure it is not creased - why should I care at this moment?

The lady takes out her tape and expertly measures my wife's bust and then notes to us all that she is a 36 D and then turns to me "madam would you mind taking off your cami?" she says smiling in that professional shop worker way. I panic but my wife smiles and nods at me and I decide to go for it and slip it off. Of course, I have breast forms, of course, even the blindest can see that they are not real even with my cleavage enhanced as it is with my diva bra but the lady, who I understand is called Jane, does not appear fussed in any way. She pulls the tap around my breast and takes her measurements and then says "madam, I suggest a 42 DD" and turns away, "I will be outside". My heart is thumping as I dress but I also have a fantastic feeling in my panty area. My wife and I dress again and go out into the shop where Jane walks through the bras in stock and recommends to both my wife and I the best type for our shape. As she packs my new bra and panties she smiles and says how much they will suit me.