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Nov 201520

From He to She

frequently asked questions, how to guides

FROM HE TO SHE

For one in 10,000 of the population, a hormonal imbalance in the uterus about six to nine weeks after conception is where it all starts. A study from the Netherlands examined the brains of straight and gay men, women and male-to-female transsexuals. They looked at part of the hypothalmus, an area of the brain that is affected by sex hormones during its development, and discovered that while the brains of straight and gay men were the same, the transsexual-to-female brains were almost identical to the brains of women.

 

However, knowing that the way you feel is due to a quirk of nature doesn’t make life any easier, especially when puberty kicks in and your body starts to head off down a route that is diametrically opposed to the way you want to go.

 

“I have people turning up who are on the point of suicide,” says Fran Springfield, specialist gender identity counsellor, “and self mutilation is not uncommon.” But, in a strange way, these are the lucky ones – they’ve recognised their situation and have taken the first step. Others are not so lucky. “Many transsexuals go through periods when they attempt to suppress or deny their condition. Some choose hobbies or jobs that are hyper-masculine in order to try to prove that they are not transsexual.”

 

Transsexuals can be found in all walks of life: Springfield has even had former SAS members come to her for help. Some transsexual-to-females who visit are in the 40s or 50s, have married and have children. Having made the initial contact the patient is now ready to embark on the journey from transsexual-to-female.

 

STEP ONE: Counselling

 

“Clients undergo many hours of counselling to determine that they are really transsexual and to rule out other psychiatric problems,” says Springfield. The only specialist nurse gender counsellor in the country, she has worked in the gender field for ten years, and is a member of the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association, an organisation which governs the treatment of transsexuals. The client is then referred to a psychiatrist for further evaluation.

 

STEP TWO: Hormone Treatment

 

Transsexual-to-females are given oestrogen which prompts them to develop breasts and a smaller waist. They will see more fat on their hips and smoother skin along with a reduction of body hair and loss of libido. Hormones do not usually stop beard growth which has to be removed by electrolysis. It can take up to 1,000 hours of electrolysis at £35 per hour to remove a full beard. Hormones do not alter voice pitch either, although speech therapy can help in that respect.

 

STEP THREE : Changing gender role

 

Patients will have to live in their new gender role for at least 12 months before an operation can be performed. During this time, all documents relating to the client are changed – driving license, National Insurance, everything except birth certificate. The patient must also come out at work – following the case of P vs Cornwall Council in the European Court in April 1996, transsexuals are now protected against discrimination in the workplace. A Home Office working party is expected to report in 2000/2001 on changing the birth certificates of post-operative transsexuals to reflect their new gender identity.

 

“The real life experience is important,” says Springfield. The 12-month period is a duration laid down by Harry Benjamin, who actually coined the term transsexual and, on a quite unrelated point, lived to be 102 years old. During this time transsexuals are checked up on to make sure that they are not cheating.

 

STEP FOUR : Counselling and Referral

 

Psychiatric examination follows more counselling to rule out delusion in the patient. After all, there will be no going back after the operation.

 

STEP FIVE : Surgery

 

It’s not only the end results that are good, there are also very few complications following the 4-5 hour operation. The patient is out of hospital in ten days and can be back at work in three months. The risk of prolapse is small and usually only occurs if patients have sex too soon after surgery or if the surgery is poor. Satisfaction rates with good surgery are 100 per cent. “The patient has got they body they always wanted,” says Springfield. “To see patients going from desperation to complete satisfaction makes the job very rewarding.”

 

Following surgery cases, 40 per cent of transsexual-to-females live as heterosexual women, 40 per cent are lesbian and 20 per cent pursue a bisexual lifestyle.

 

“Transsexuals are ordinary people who’ve gone through an extraordinary experience,” says Springfield. “Many live their lives without anyone knowing their background. You have probably met some without even knowing.”

 

You can contact Fran Springfield at http://members.aol.com/gics



Nov 201520

Easy Pedicure

frequently asked questions, how to guides

Transgender Resources

Easy Pedicure

Smooth, feminine looking feet are an absolute must in the warm weather when sandals are worn. Giving yourself a pedicure at home is not nearly as complicated as you might think. Here is an easy step-by-step proceedure that guarantees gorgeous toes. You will need the following items (as for the manicure): Towel Bowl Warm water or olive oil Emery Board Oily polish remover Base coat / ridge filler Coloured nail varnish Polish sealer / clear varnish Cotton wool Orange stick Cuticle remover / conditioner moisturising cream In addition you will need toe dividers, a pumice stone and nail clipper. 1. Begin by clipping each toenail straight across with your nail clipper. File each nail lightly with an emery board until nice and even.   2. Now soak your feet in warm water for 10 to 15 minutes. Pat them just dry enough so water doesn't drip, and apply cuticle conditioner to each nail base, gently pushing back with an orange stick.   3. If corns and hard skin are a problem, try using a pumice stone on these rough area while feet are still moist. After scrubbing the soles of your feet and the rough spots around each toe, apply a good moisturising cream to the entire foot and between each toe. Clean nail surface with a cotton tipped orange stick dipped in remover.   4. Polished toenails give feet a lovely feminine look. First, place toe dividers between toes. Apply your basecoat, remembering to let it dry on each nail for about one minute.   5. Polish your toenails carefully with the same colour you have on your fingernails or a similar shade. You can then apply your polish sealer and quick dry, making sure polish is completely dry before removing the toe dividers.   Handy Hints for Feminine feet Soak nightly if possible ensuring you dry feet thoroughly - especially between the toes - and then massage in moisturising cream Use a nail brush to keep toe nails clean Never shape nails, always cut straight across to avoid ingrowing toe nails If you have sweaty feet put talcum powder in your shoes or stockings, or use a proprietry foot spray Go barefoot as often as possible (I'm famous for it!) Buy correctly fitting leather shoes which give and allow your feet to breathe (unlike cheap synthetic materials) Never try to apply polish without using toe dividers - it will smudge every time Like the manicure, your pedicure can be done in about 30 minutes each week. Once you've invested in the necessary tools and products you'll find that your at-home 'beauty night' will keep you looking and feeling terrific!

Nov 201520

Helen's Story

short story
Well where do we start? With the Victorian father who was an out and out bully? With the time spent in childrens homes or with the closeness of a mothers love? All of them are there but I prefer to look at the girl in me as a result of all this. A brief example of some of my experiences: An 11 year old very confused boy who would play games of dressing up with his sister, feeling the sexual arousal of the feminine garments about me. Being found out by the elder sister (they were her clothes) and then going further into the closet. What a common answer this is to our situation. The clothes in those days (the 1950s) were what I consider still to be the most feminine of clothse. I loved them then and still do. The stockings, the bra, the slip and those fabulous skirts! I was the kind of boy who had friends, who played boy games and enjoyed them (I still do) but at the end of the day found solitude, pleasure and excitement dressed as the beautiful princess waiting for her knight to rescue her from the dungeon of her life. Unfortunately I still wait, my cries go unanswered. If he does not have a horse, a car would do or maybe I can sit on the handlebars of his bike (I wont be singing Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head - I cannot sing to save my life). But the dungeon is cold and bare. Where for art thou Romeo? I remember getting to 15 and 16 and waiting for everyone to leave the house, claiming pressure of homework for not going with them, but as soon as they left transporting myself to that tower (attic which was my bedroom) in the castle. Mother would have bagged her and my sisters 'out of season' clothes and left them there. I would rummage through them - my favourite being this delightful silk Chinese style dress. It had this pretty floral pattern and was knee length. I was so angry when mother got rid of it and I might add Stephanie I never saw one in any of your shops. I have loved asian (Indian and Chinese especially) clothes ever since. I get to 30 and I'm still in that closet. One day I have to go to London on business. I call in at the shop, have a swift look round and I run for it. What am I doing, perhaps a beer will help? It doesn't, I stay at the bar. I have just come through a spell of drinking to get through life and it does not help the problem - there is still the next day. The next time I go to London I call again and now start to talk to the girls there. Aren't they sweet? I am enticed to try it and I flatly refuse to be beaten. The coffee, the look through the book, the decision, the climb up the stairs and here I am dressed up to the nines talking to women like me about normal everyday things. The only thing missing was that knight in shining armour. I used to go back there often and those four hours take the pressure off, I can relax and be myself. I come out a new refreshed person ready for the new day. One day I have to go to Newcastle and decide to visit the shop there. Horrors - around the corner is a womens boutique also with Transformations in the title and yes I go in and ask for my transformation. I am not sure who was more horrified. I never saw that shop again - perhaps they changed the name! I dont know. But here was the difference: I left, laughed and went on to the right place and had a ball with the girls. This is me getting it off my chest. I now live abroad and I have gone back into my closet and at times get very frustrated. Shall I tell you about the time I walked out dressed and got caught by the next door neighbour? Or about the video camera I use to check my walk, my presentation, and to remind me of the good times. Perhaps, but that had better be saved for the next time... All my love, Helen (New Zealand)

Nov 201520

Charlene's Story

short story

Charlene's Story

  As may be obvious to any TV, writing on this most sensitive of subjects is not an easy matter. I have decided to do so in an attempt to reassure those of you who think that what you are and what you do is 'freakish' or 'weird'. My story will, I hope, enable you to see that transvestism is part of what you are and that you are not the only guy who likes to dress in feminine clothing. It doesn't matter whether you are a person who dresses and acts entirely as a woman, or like me, happens to enjoy wearing lingerie alone.   I first became aware that I was attracted to the idea of wearing lingerie when, in my early teens, my older brother was married. As money was short, the newly wed couple lived at my parents' house until they could afford a home of their own. During this time, although I was aware of my fascination with female underwear, my actions in this area were confined to looking at pictures of models in catalogues and magazines. This is as far as I expected to get with what I initially thought of as a shameful and disgusting habit. The thing that I hadn't considered in this was that although I didn't realise it, the feelings of pleasure I got from imagining myself wearing the pretty underwear that these women were modelling, were a part of me. It wasn't too long before the inevitable occurred and I was left alone in the house. Although I was apprehensive as to the possible consequences, I still couldn't resist going into my brother and sister-in-law's bedroom to see what kind of underwear she liked. I couldn't have been more surprised, in fact, when on looking through the wardrobe, I came across a couple of drawers full of my favourite sorts of lingerie.   I couldn't believe it! Right before my eyes were all sorts of lacy goodies bras, panties, suspender belts, French knickers and so on, in a variety of colours and styles. Scattered around these beautiful things were a number of pairs of stockings, ranging from tarty black fishnets to pretty white lace-tops. Why I wasn't caught touching and feeling these undies, I'll never know, because while I was there I couldn't think of anything else. (That, I must say, has always been a major element of the fascination I have with women's underwear. Some of my female friends who know other TVs have said that this is a common phenomenon. Men's underwear, with the exception, I think, of silk boxer shorts just cannot compare with lingerie for tactile sensation.) To cut a long story short, I took every opportunity to go into my sister-in-law's underwear drawers after that. Inevitably though, it wasn't long before looking and touching weren't enough. I remember taking a conscious decision one day, that as soon as I got the chance, I would try on some of the lingerie, to see what it was like. Soon enough the day came when I was on my own in the house. Everyone else would be away for several hours so it was the ideal opportunity to actually do what I had only previously thought of doing. I recall creeping into the bedroom feeling very nervous, even though I knew that nobody would be in the house but me, and that everyone else would be out for ages. I found my breathing was getting difficult and my hands were trembling with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I pulled open the drawer and picked out a red and black suspender belt, matching panties and a pair of stockings. Quickly I went back to my own room with my stolen treasures and proceeded to strip off, prior to putting on, at long last, the first lingerie I had ever tried.   From all those magazine pictures I knew that one put on the stockings and the suspenders first, so I sat on my bed and worked out the unfamiliar fastenings, first securing the suspender belt around my waist, then rolling the stockings up my legs. After finally working out how the clips on the suspender tabs worked and clipping the stockings up, I then picked the satin panties up, and slowly pulled them on, revelling in their beautiful smoothness, surprising after so many years of cotton. The underwear didn't actually fit me too well, but that didn't matter as I looked in the mirror at how I looked, a slim figure in shining red and black lingerie, for the first time. From that moment I knew that this was 'me'.   Throughout my teenage years I fantasised about having my own lingerie, but with the lack of money that youth normally bestows, my dream didn't become a reality until I started work. When I started work I also discovered women and sex. I always longed to combine my secret passion with a physical relationship, but I never told anyone about my secret. In fact all was not so easy as it may seem, for I went through periods of denial, where I would throw my lingerie away and think I had conquered this desire, but it proved to be part of me and was not to be denied. Now I am happily married to a woman who knows about my feminine side. I made sure that she knew all about my lingerie passion, since I wouldn't want to go through the lies and deceit that inevitably follows any attempt to deny what is a powerful part of my life. In closing, I would say this to anyone out there who feels like some sort of outcast. You are not alone. You are who you are. Be very sure of anyone you reveal your self to. Finally, enjoy your passion and don't be a prisoner of guilt! Charlene

Nov 201520

Testimonials

frequently asked questions, how to guides

Testimonials

 

Real extracts from customers letters or emails telling us of their personal results. The originals of all of these letters are held by Transformation for verification.

 

DO YOU WANT TO APPEAR ON OUR WEBSITE?

 

We realise that most of our customers guard their privacy & would not want to appear on video. But we also know that there will be a few of you out there that would love to appear as a convincing woman in a short video clip where even your mum would not recognise you!!! If you are interested in shooting a short testimonial video using your phone please ring Diane or Beverley for full details on 0161-773-4477 or email us here.

 

BECOME AN INSPIRATION TO OTHERS

 

Hi ladies, Just wanted to tell you about my visit to Manchester on Saturday. I went again for a changeaway and had just the BEST time. It was wonderful, and again, that is down to the staff you had on duty. As I walked in, Debbie remembered me, saying "Hi Sophie....you staying with us today?", which was the perfect introduction. Both her and Eileen were just fantastic. They take real care and have a genuine interest in you, in your choice of outfit, and your make up. You could say that is what they are paid to do...true, but actually, they did seem to genuinely care, and really did welcome me as a woman into their female fold. Eileen helped me pick my two outfits, listening and taking into account what I wanted, and advising me accordingly. Debbie then did expertly did my make up. Then, once changed, both treated me as the woman I want to be. I literally was one of the girls for the duration of my stay. It was just wonderful - truly magnificent. And my wonderful experience was down to their expertise and kindness. It was FAB-U-LOUS!! Can't wait for the next visit.

 

Sophie x

 

Hi Diane Just wanted to write and tell you that I went for two changeaways this week, and what a wonderful time I had. Just wanted to let you all in head office know the wonderful job that Eileen and Debbie did, in the makeovers.Both were fabulous, but Debbie was especially superb. She has this wonderful manner about her, which just makes me feel that, whilst I am there, I am a woman. Her makeovers, the way she picks out clothes, and the make up design and hair styling, are just fabulous. But then after that, she talks to you like you are one of the girls, about girly things that women would chat about, and it just comes naturally to her. It is not forced, there's no act, which makes you immediately feel accepted as a woman there. Transformation should be very proud to have her. Thanks Diane....I can't wait to return!

 

Sophie x

 

Hi, This is a note of thanks to your company and if one person is to be singled out it would be Beverley on the phone ordering service. After much deliberation and a little therapy I decided time was right to undergo hormone replacement, my first contact with Bev was lovely, I found her proffesional, patient and knowledgable of products so well qualified to guide me through, I placed an order which arrived next day and delighted, I feel Beverley should be congratulated and no, I am not related to her! Many thanks again from

 

Robyn

 

Dear Tracey I feel I had to write this letter to extend my thanks to you personally for my experience on Tuesday 22nd February. After plucking up courage the day before to enter the shop, I was made so welcome and comfortable the moment I entered the shop. Your professional attitude and empathy are a credit to you and I wish the world had more people like yourself to make people like myself feel more accepted in society. Once I had gained confidence I made a purchase and agreed that I would return the next day for a Changeaway. Upon arriving the next day I was greeted with the same enthusiasm by you as I was the day before. I then felt nervous again as there was another lady in the shop. I should have had no doubt that this lady (Christine) would show me the same respect as you. She is also a credit to your establishment. The whole experience that I had over the next few hours felt so normal. This is soley down to your relaxed and empathetic manner. As you know I have a very Plain Jane dress sense and you respected that and did not try to make me look like a Drag Queen. And how you gave me a waist I will never know, I have not had a waist since I was 16!!!!! Your knowledge on applying make-up made even me look special (in my opinion I am six foot tall, eighteen stone and look like a battered rugby player) You made me feel so relaxed that I actually found myself chatting to you as if I had known you for years and telling you all about my secret life and I can honestly say I have never talked this candidly and openly with anybody other than my wife. Saying that, I don’t think I have expressed myself so openly and been so frank as I was with you. Just like two sisters twittering on. You also made me feel so comfortable and convincing that I couldn’t believe that I sat in the shop the whole time. Please pass this on to your managers and feel free to use is as a testimonial if necessary. Once again thank you so much for my experience with you. You are a credit to both your company and yourself. Hope to see you next year when I am next in Birmingham Best wishes

 

Chris

 

Many thanks for your help recently. As you now know I visited your London shop unexpectedly yesterday as I realised I couldn’t make next week after all and what an amazing experience it turned out to be. I don't think I was ever made to feel so welcome in a shop before, it felt like more of a spiritual event than a shopping expedition; many, many thanks to Samantha & Karitas. I left your shop feeling freed from decades of suppressed emotion and truly I haven't felt so good about myself in many a year. If anybody who has only ever cross dressed on their own before and has any doubts about making such a step by visiting such an establishment (and believe me I can understand) just try it otherwise you'll never know what you have missed. Once again thank you to Samantha & Karitas for making it such a special day.

 

Steve

 

On Monday (16th) I gave myself a treat by spending a day out, and just over £400, at your branch in London. It is a pleasure to tell you just how helpful and kind both Beverley and Samantha were, Beverley paying particular attention to my needs, and also to tell you how much they both contributed to my enjoyment of my time there. Please pass on my grateful thanks for their time and attentionl. My only regret is that I could not stay any longer than I did as it took me over three hours to get there and roughly the same time to return to my home near Southampton. Highest regards

 

Dawn

 

Yesterday, I visited your Birmingham shop and had one of the most fantastic experiences of my life, thanks to Shirley. This was my first-ever visit and my first ever Changeaway. I arrived just before 11 o'clock and Shirley was in the shop. Her sixth sense came into play instantly, as she knew I was self-conscious and sensed I was also confused. She sat me down on the sofa, "magicked" a cup of coffee and asked quite a lot of very discreetly worded questions. The result was that she put me very much at ease (not completely, but that was down to me, not her) and established, out of her questions, a look that would suit me - I had no real idea except that I didn't want to look tarty, because this was not a joke to me. Shirley selected a breast size, measured me, selected a pair of suitable shoes, guided me on an ideal pair of panties (I wore them today all day) and off we went. She left me to strip down to underwear then came back and started work. With a suitable corset, she whittled eight inches off my waist, fitted my bra and breasts (fantastic - if only they had been real!) and made an elegant woman of me. She did a fantastic job - my face was the only bit I wasn't entirely comfortable with, but Shirley could only work with what she had! Here's the fantastic part of it all - when she had finished, Shirley walked round me and then looked me in the eye and said: "You look fabulous". And I thought she was right - but it was she who had made this fabulous transformation - and by saying what she did so spontaneously gave me a massive confidence boost. It has given me the resolve that this will not be my last visit. I had a particularly difficult phsychological obstacle to overcome and almost without my realising it, Shirley led me through it to perform true magic. Not only did I look fantastic, I felt fantastic. I sat in the lounge for quite a while, getting used to this new me, read a few magazines, learned how to sit from what I read and I loved it. Shirley, you are a marvel and I'm looking forward very much to my next visit and experiencing you working your wonders again. Thankyou so much - and thankyou Transformations for being there.

 

Love, Sarah

 

I want to thank you. my last order was complete and on time like every order i placed. the three gifts were perfect. i will make use of them throughout my transformation. they are needed essentials for the m/f transformation. i will put them to the test when i go out to clubs and concerts. when i started transformation at first, i was very uncomfortable. now, i look forward to face the world. I am no longer a closet dresser.

 

love Martha

 

Hi girls I want to thank you all for my purchases my new breasts Alice dress ankle boots etc.  I now have everything that I need to be a complete woman thank you all

love Carol from Manchester

 

I'm just emailing to say that the creams arrived early this afternoon and I've already had my first session with them. Here's hoping that I'm able to see some results in the near future. If you like, I'll keep you posted. Can I say once again a very big thank you and how very pleased I am with your service, your promptness in responding to emails, the speedy overnight delivery and for your very kind and discrete help when I called. It is all very much appreciated indeed and I'll certainly have no hesitation in contacting you again by phone. Very many thanks again and my kindest regards.

 

from Jaydee in the UK

 

This is one girl that is beaming with pleasure after receiving my new Realistic Vagina. It looks so real and thank you so much.

 

A Loyal Customer

 

from Ginger in USA

I would like to thank Maria for all her help and assistance when I have called the customer service line and for the way that she treats me like a woman. Maria has always explained every item I have asked about in a very helpful and respectful manner and I look forward to talking to her again soon. Many thanks

 

from Karen in Suffolk

Thank you so much Claudia for your understanding and kindness, your service and Customer Service staff are extremely friendly and helpful and are a credit to your company. Cant wait till my next treat from CDC.

 

from Allan

I have just received my Realistic Vagina and what a wonderful transformation it has made. I started wearing it immediately and have never felt better. Thank you so much for offering this product and I will buy from you again.

 

from Marryann in USA

Thank you very much for the parcel I received and shall be ordering again very soon and I will be recommending you fast efficient service to all my friends.

from Steffan

 

Jess United Kingdom

I just wanted to thank you I've been really happy with Transformation and the products are fantastic, they have not only made a difference to my body but also my quality of life. I think I would have committed suicide had I not found out about this site so I just wanted to personaly thank you all at Transformation  for your support. Your customer service is amazing and user friendly and I immediately  felt at home and I don't  have to pretend to be somone im not. Please thank Stephanie Anne Lloyd,  I think she is legendary and a true hero to the Trans people and I think shes saved and changed so many lives for the better. I only wish there were more people like that around. Im going to continue to use your services indefinatly where I feel safe and secure. Thanks for your help and have a nice night Jess x



Nov 201520

Unexpected Change

short story
  They looked and felt so nice and were so soft. When I took a bath, I found myself noticing her stockings drying over the shower bar. When I asked her about what a run in her stockings meant, and why my socks didn't have runs, she tried to explain it was a girl thing. Then I decided one day to look in her dresser and that experience changed my life. Everything was so smooth and soft and smelled so good. I decided to revisit that dresser when I got the opportunity when I got the chance. I thought my chance came when my mother was at work and I got out of school at 3:00. Careful to remember where everything was placed and how it was folded, I took some items from her lingerie drawer. There were silky things and other items that looked tight and felt stretchy. For some reason I decided to put on one of the stretchy things that had legs in them. It was hard to get it on but I managed. It felt nice yet strange. My little parts between my legs felt constricted but somehow I felt wonderful. I also loved the smell of her perfume and opened a container of one, spilling a bit of it on me. I carefully replaced the cap and put it back on the top of her dresser. I spent an unknown amount of time enjoying my feelings and sensations. Then I heard the door open !!! It was my mother! I was in her bedroom, in her girdle and smelled like her perfume! I struggled to undo what I had done! I found myself on her bedroom floor, her girdle around my ankles, trying to crawl under her bed. The expression on her face gave me no clue as to what she thought. I undressed - embarrassed and afraid. We ate macaroni & cheese without a word spoken. I went bed fearful, yet exhilarated from the emotions and feelings that came from my mother's dresser that day. Nothing was said for a year. A year later I was in our garage and found some boxes. I rummaged through them and discovered the mother load. So many girdles, so many panties and skirts - blouses, bras and everything feminine! I couldn't resist myself! In a wave of ecstasy I dressed again. Nothing else mattered. Then I heard my mother's voice! Again I tried to scramble for cover! Again I didn't succeed in my deception! This time my mother insisted we talk. Afraid and shy, thinking I might die or be punished. I told her that I liked being in her clothes. Then I cried, went to bed and shivered. Nothing was said again for about a week. She was my mother and I knew she loved me. I was 11 years old. At breakfast soon after she told me that I had to take some new vitamins. I took them as always and ate my oatmeal. I studied hard, made good grades but wasn't very good at sports. I continued this regimen for the next 2 years. Six months after my garage experience I told my mother that I was feeling a bit of pain. She asked me where and I said it was in my chest. She took off my shirt and examined me. My pain seemed to come my nipple areas and I thought that I felt a lumpiness that was new to me. She told me that I was O.K. and it was part of growing up. When I went to Jr. High School I was told that I couldn't take P.E. because of a medical condition. I still did art, studied hard, but didn't understand the obsession the other boys were starting to have in girls. I liked most of the other girls and even some of the boys, but I didn't somehow seem to fit in. I was a loner but still kept taking my "vitamins".
    unexpected-change-p2.jpgNow it was the era of long hair for boys and other social changes. There were other major changes happening to me. Some of the boys were growing mustaches but nothing that way was happening to me. Other things were though! Slowly I noticed things in the mirror! My pants didn't fit right! They were loose around my waist and my bottom and thighs were looking fat! My mother encouraged me to grow my hair long because it was now in fashion. Then I noticed in the mirror that not only did I not have any chest hair but that my chest looked like I had breasts! Over the next six months they were undeniable! I had larger breasts than half of the girls in my high school! I also started having feelings for some of the boys that were hard for me to understand. I also kept close to some of the girls who told me that I way of relating to them that "other boys" didn't. I wore loose shirts, kept my hair log according to the style and tried to figure out that which was getting very difficult to disguise! My waist was thin! My breasts were large! I had a body shape that caused most people to call me miss or young lady! I was surprised that most of the time I enjoyed it! I still kept taking my vitamins - but it was time that I had to express my concerns and intimate feelings to the only family that I had known - my mother. My breasts were now large, my waist was thin and body had a shape that some girls would envy. I felt attracted to boys in a way that scared me and excited me too. My voice didn't sound like the other boys and because I was teased I kept to myself for the most part. Confused, I turned to my mother again. Dutifully I still kept taking the "vitamins" as always. She suggested that we have a talk, keep taking my vitamins and that she had something to tell me! What she said both floored me and relieved me. She related that since my father left her she had a distrust of men. She tearfully told me that she had always wished to have a daughter. She couldn't fathom raising a son and had early on decided for me to be her daughter. We both cried. She then told me that she had a couple of surprises for me. In my old bedroom was a new dresser. She asked me to open the drawers. Inside them were the prettiest panties, the coziest night gowns and in the top drawer were barrettes, head bands and ear rings! I sighed, was excited but didn't know quite how to express my feelings. I was glad inside but then knew that it was time for us to have a real "girl to girl" talk! We proceeded to have that talk and I expressed my honest concerns and fears! I took my vitamins, sat down with mother as she told me of her last surprise! She told me that she had been saving her money and had befriended a skilled doctor. Over the next 2 hours I thought, cried and went more than twice to the mirror. Among the options I considered was being the boy that born as. The mirror told me otherwise. But there was still the matter of a particular piece of anatomy that made my mother's wish for a daughter impossible - or was it? After another heart to heart discussion with my mother, I decided to finally resolve my ambiguity. My anatomy could finally be in sync with the rest of me!
    unexpected-change-p3.jpgThe arrangements were made, and with trepidation I checked in, was prepped, sedated and went to sleep. When I awoke it was over and a nurse told me all was successful. I had completely become the daughter my mother had always wanted and there was no turning back! Eventually I healed, we went shopping together and even looked at catalogs. My reasoning was that over 50% of the population was female, I didn't feel comfortable as a male and we have nicer clothes. I enjoy doing my hair, picking out earrings and necklaces and dabbing perfume. I enjoy being a girl. The best "came later". Since being a woman I naturally wanted to try out my new equipment. I did however require that it be with a nice and loving man. Since my mother has passed on I have considered lesbian options. Either way I love to be loved, love to have my breasts loved and enjoy an orgasm. As a woman it is a bit of an inconvenience to pee when camping or to always have to sit on the toilet, but I have come to enjoy being touched, lotioned, and cuddling! The first time I was entered I was scared and it was a little painful. I sure it was the same for all girls at first. Believe it or not one of the most pleasurable experiences I now have is to walk by my bathroom mirror, look at myself and then apply the soap to the body that my mother so long ago envisioned her son/daughter having. Enjoy being a girl - a boy - but living!

Nov 201520

Sweet Tea Dancing

short story

 Sweet Tea Dancing

"It's alright for you girls in your trousers," I said, between gritted teeth, the wintery wind whipping about my stocking tops. There were four of us at the bus stop, two lesbians sensibly wrapped up against the weather; two transvestites less warmly dressed. We were waiting for a night bus. Really, it would have been a good idea to leave in time for the last tube, but the Tea Dance had been a lot of fun. The Sunday Tea Dance is a good place to shake a leg. It would have been best to let it go at that. But in my fourth tea dancing year I went a lot further than leg shaking. I broke a wrist. It is not a trannie event. The Evening Standard published an article which said something about forty transvestites turning up to the Tea Dance. That gave a very misleading impression. A sub-editor had axed a bit about most of the transvestites being women in male clothing. Without actually asking them, I feel sure that most of the women in masculine attaire would not care to be labelled as transvestites. 'Lesbian' or 'dyke' would surely be more popular. And, certainly going beyond transvestitism, the Tea Dance often attracts at least one female to male transsexual. In spite of some camp statements, the vast majority of the biological males dress in unequivocally male clothing. Amongst those in skirts. i suppose that almost as many would describe themselves as drag queens as would care to be called transvestites. The maximum number of trannies and drag queens I've ever seen at the Tea Dance is seven. More often it's just been me. On some of the infrequent weeks when I haven't made it there may have been none of us, although Gina's generally gone when I've missed it. The Sunday Tea Dance is, rather, a lesbian and gay affair. In Edwardian times, and subsequently, tea dances took place in the afternoon. There was tea and ballroom dancing. There's tea, and sandwiches, at the Sunday Tea Dance, too. The tea is available until seven o' clock, which used to be when they started serving alcohol. Now, the dancers can drink tea, something stronger or both before seven. The sandwiches are available until they run out. The dance runs from 5pm till midnight. It starts with ballroom numbers. The men mostly dance with men, the women with women.
    Later, there are usually one or more cabaret turns, disco dancing and line dances. The last named are after the fashion of chorus lines, everyone trying to do the same steps. Some don't always succeed, not that it matters. The spirit of the Tea Dance is to give it a go, no need to worry about being foolish. The typical tea dancer (if there is such a creature) has been through that and doesn't give a damn. There's a bit of barn dancing, western numbers..... The dancing is as diverse as the Tea Dance crowd. They even do the Gay Gordons. Well, what else would those Gordons be? With the moves, Tea Dance folk come and go, but the sprinkling of trannies shows no sign of increasing. Actually, our small number is one of the attractions for me. I like transvestites company well enough, but prefer diversity. The small number of trannies led to the accidental start of the cabaret number Gina and I do. One night the DJ put on 'Sweet Transvestite' from "The Rocky Horror Show". It cleared the dance floor, apart from my friend Gina and me. Evidently, we were the only two that night who considered ourselves sweet transvestites. As a child, I'd been very shy. Now suddenly a transvestite the centre of attention at a gay venue. I discovered that I enjoyed showing off. It was tremendous. I was having fun. Obviously, with no advanced warning. I hadn't put on a special costume for the number. As the routine developed, I just wore whatever skirt and top I had on that evening. For it did develop into a routine. A couple of weeks after our first "Sweet Transvestite", the DJ played the number again. We'd had time to think about it and produced something less like disco dancing and closer to a performance. Our cabaret number became a regular feature of the Tea Dance. Gina and I actually discussed what we were doing and went some way towards working together. As we improved, we received more enthusiastic applause. I loved it. Occasionally, I did the routine on my own when Gina couldn't make it. I enjoyed having the dance floor, and the audience, to myself. It was on such a night, however, that I broke my wrist. Gina was working that night. I have the impression that, when Jo put on our number, she was unaware that I was on my own. I leapt into the number, giving it plenty of oomph dancing for two. Suddenly, not far into the routine, I felt my feet sliding out from under me. I was falling over backwards and unable to recover my balance. Automatically, I extended my hands to break the fall. There was a wet patch on the dance floor. I can't say for certain that I stepped on it, at the time I was looking at my audience rather than my feet. The probability is that, as I went up on one toe, I was resting my entire weight on perhaps a square inch of wet floor.
    There I was, alone on the dance floor, the eyes of the entire Tea Dance fixed upon me, falling backwards. In so far as I had time to think anything at that instant, it had to do with making a fool of myself rather than with possible injury. Worse was to follow. As my wrists took my weight (painfully) my head jerked back throwing off my wig. The pain didn't bother me at that moment. What worried me was losing my wig in front of all those people - trannie vanity! There was really only one thing to do. Immediately, I leapt back to my feet, pulling my wig back on as I did so. As soon as I was on my feet I was dancing. I continued to give plenty of oomph. At the end, I received a tremendous round of applause. I wonder how they would have reacted if they'd known that I'd broken my wrist. Of course, there was no way that they could have known that, I didn't realise it myself. Casualty I knew that I was in pain, and I left early. Never having broke a bone in my life before, I was inclined to think that I had sprained it. The following morning, it seemed sufficiently serious to take to the hospital. If there is an ideal time to pass through casualty, it isn't Bank Holiday Monday. Still it had to be done. Next week, I was back at the Tea Dance with my arm in plaster and a sling. It caused quite a sensation. People told me that they thought I'd fallen deliberately. I must have recovered from the fall very well and extremely quickly. A puzzling question was - why should I fall deliberately? At least one person supplied the answer 'to be camp'. I didn't ask what he meant by that, but I suppose that in making my hard landing I'd exposed my underwear as well as my real hair. That was an aspect I hadn't previously considered. After a week off, I was back on the dance floor, performing in plaster. It was a handicap because I use my arms a lot when dancing. Nor was dancing the only thing with which I had trouble. fastening suspenders was tricky, for one thing. Some were more difficult than others - I think the worst was the right hand (or thigh?) rear suspender. A bit of a struggle to overcome these difficulties was well worthwhile. When I put on my dancing shoes, I put on stockings and suspenders as well. The cool draught about the thighs, so shiversome at the night bus stop, is welcome when it hots up on the dance floor. And when it comes to flashing my undies, who wants to look at the crotch of a pair of tights? I t's a rare Sunday that doesn't see me putting on my dancing shoes, and twirling a skirt. It's a lot of fun. Sunday is the best night of most weeks.

Nov 201520

Samantha's First Dress

short story
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

Nov 201520

Sportswear

short story
She leaps for the ball. As she leaps, the hem of her pleated skirt swings dramatically upwards. A fleeting glimpse of her knickers - almost too quick to catch. Then her feet are back on the grass, her hem line falls to her upper thighs. Sitting, watching her on television, I await the next knicker flash... I am writing this during Wimbledon. It's the women I like to watch - and the knicker flash is a considerable part of the enjoyment. There was a time when shorts were in vogue for women tennis players - as far as I was concerned (and I'm sure the same goes for a lot of other people) the shorts cut short much of the pleasure. I'm delighted to see that recent Wimbledons have been skirted events! Mixed with the pleasure, though, is a wistfulness, almost sadness. The fact is I'd like to be out there on the tennis court flashing my knickers (not Wimbledon of course - I couldn't aspire to that!). Seven sports which I associate with women come to mind - of course, women participate in many more sports, but this is a trannie article. I am not concerned with the likes of fencing, where women wear clothes indistinguishable from the men. The seven sports I have in mind all have distinctively feminine sportswear. Lets take them in turn. Swimming Swimming first - an activity for which women certainly wear some beguiling costumes. Unfortunately, for me at least, swimwear is more an object of desire than one of attainment. I have owned examples of both the bikini and the one piece swimsuit, and I've tried them on. Alas I have encountered what I might call top and tail problems... I wear quite good quality prosthetic breasts, but they are a lot less convincing if their edges can be seen. I have yet to try on a swimsuit which covers the top of the breasts properly. So much for the top of the swimsuit. The bottom is little, if any, better. Achieving a sufficiently good tuck-away to carry the thing off is a challenge to which I have yet to find an adequate solution. If you've worn a cache sex under a lycra skirt - achieving a convincingly feminine appearance - and wish to push it to its limits, then try a swimsuit. Keeping things in check once in the water is a prospect I would prefer not to contemplate. One may be able to swim in Dermablend make up - but I am not sure what a trannie is supposed to wear whilst doing so!  
  f484_699gnressportpage3.jpgGymnastics Gymnastics can be breath-takingly beautiful. The gymnastic leotard, however, is not much more forgiving than the swimsuit. It would be lovely, but who do I think I'm kidding? Girl gymnasts tend to be over the hill by the time they reach fourteen. Me? Well, it's no secret that I'm a lot older than that. Athletics Athletics involves much sexier costumes than they used to do. They look tempting, definitely tempting. Unfortunately, the knicker-like shorts of modern women's athletics carry all of the problems encountered at the lower end of the swimsuit. The problems at the top, however, may be a little easier to solve. I have a lycra sports top, suitable for athletics, which is a joy to wear. It amply covers the tell-tale edges of my breasts, while retaining a pleasing skimpiness (skimpiness is the essence of sportswear!). More - it is the only top I own which keeps the breasts really secure in place without requiring a bra. There may be hope for athletics as a trannie sport. Hockey Hockey, to be honest, is not really my cup of tea. It seems to me a rough game, something expressed by Sir Owen Seaman in his poem, The Yellow Shin Pads: Your hands had tied them on for me Fair lord and righteous referee Above my crushers, daintily Am I cross dressing to wear crushers? I think not. All the same, I grew up in the 1950s thinking of hockey as an exclusively female sport (none of the boys' schools in the borough played it) and there was an element of attraction in the game. Part of the attraction almost certainly lay in hockey players wearing what seemed very short skirts. These were pre-mini skirt days! Actually, to judge from my oldest sister's example - the only hockey enthusiast in the family - they were actually 'culottes'. I have always liked skirts, and in my early years something which seemed to be a skirt - but wasn't - exercised a powerful fascination. It seemed to form some kind of link between the kind of clothes I was allowed to wear and those my sisters wore. My present, rather negative, feelings about hockey may stem from my time at university. As I've said, I grew up thinking of hockey as an exclusively female sport. I was intrigued, therefore, to discover that there was a university men's hockey team. I pictured a group of men charging about the playing field in culottes (if not skirts), so I made discreet enquiries. The enquiries had to be very discreet, because my cross dressing was still firmly in the closet. What I discovered was about as disappointing as it could have been. The men's hockey team was the most horrible, ugly and macho sports team on campus. Their sportswear was, at least to my eye, indistinguishable from that of the rugby team. Since making this discovery, I don't think that I have had any positive feelings on hockey.  
  f484_164gnrssportpage2.jpgNetball Netball is, perhaps, the quintessential women's sport, and is a great deal less rough than hockey. Hurrah for that! It is not a contact sport. After specifically stating that a player may not push, bump, trip, knock, charge or hold another, Rule 17 adds the catch-all: "A player shall not contact another on any other occasion or in any other way in such a manner as to interfere with the opponent's play". Netball is a good game, emphasising skill and outlawing any hint of brutality. It is also certainly played in skirts and, with seven to a team, provides more opportunity for knicker-flash than does tennis! It seems to me almost criminal that netball is so ignored by television - I would certainly watch it. The game obviously appeals to at least some trannies, apart from me. I have read more than one transvestite story which revolves around gaining access to a netball team (and scoring the winning goal of course). Having read a fair number of transvestite stories over the years, most of them have faded to a blur in my memory, but Sandra stands out quite clearly. Perhaps that reveals me as the sort of netball fan who is bound to have a netball skirt or two in the wardrobe. Well yes, I do! My favourite Transformation novelette, She Male Slavery demonstrates not only a liking for sportswear, but some knowledge of netball. As in this passage: "Our games kit consisted of T-shirt, short pleated skirt, very frilly white knickers, white ankle socks and training shoes. We occasionally played rounders or volleyball, but netball was the usual game. Brought up, as I had been, on masculine contact sports, I found it hard to adapt to netball, with its rules against touching, obstructing or intimidating other players. In the heat of play, it was hard to remember to observe the rules limiting the areas of the court that each player might enter." In spite of the title and downright misleading cover picture, this novelette has a rather lovely Cinderella-like plot, as well as some sportswear interest. I recommend it. Both hockey and netball, as team sports, involve wearing the same strip as one's team-mates. I don't have the rules of hockey, but netball rule 1.4 describes this as a uniform. The word uniform raises a whole swamp of trannie desires. This isn't Objects of Desire: Uniforms but I like uniforms as much as the next transvestite, and the uniform aspect adds an extra element of pleasure to the joy of sportswear. Ice Skating Skating is my absolute favourite when it comes to watching sport on television. Beautiful and graceful are amongst the words which come to mind, the kind of words I would most like to apply to my feminine self. The words apply to the skaters themselves, to their movements on the ice and, not least, to their dresses. The movements and the lovely fabrics seem to raise knicker-flash to the status of an art form. Taking such a dress out on to the ice is certainly one of my fantasies, but I doubt whether it will ever be more than just a fantasy. To begin with, I do not believe that my sense of balance is good enough for the ice. Nor have I been encouraged to try the experiment since my partner of a few years ago broke every bone in her ankle in a horrible skating accident! I would certainly like one of the dresses to wear on solid ground, but do not believe that ones like those seen on television are available off the peg. Perhaps I need to improve my dress making skills to bring this fantasy a little closer to realisation. Like the swimwear, although for different reasons, the skating outfit remains an object of desire but not of attainment - for the present at least.  
  f484_700genrssportpage4.jpgTennis Tennis is where we came in, and I do have the outfit for it. I'm sure that I've written enough about the desire to flash my knickers on court, but off-court activities may be even more interesting. Tennis lesbianism has become enough of a cliche to be used by the advertising industry - eg the strawberry passed between one female and another in the Coca Cola tennis-based advert. I don't know about other trannies, but more often than not my sexual fantasies are without male figures. In my fantasies, I usually see both myself and any sexual partner(s) as women. The union of sweaty bodies in short skirts off-court is the sort of idea that appeals to me most. It is, of course, the kind of thing in which I could never really be involved, but it's a tremendously potent fantasy. Fastening my tennis skirt about my waist seems to bring the fantasy a tad closer to reality. The way clothes feel and look is certainly part of the tennis experience. There are, clearly, some very potent fantasies to be triggered by sportswear. That would be enough to place it as an object of desire, but there is more. It is also comfortable. I suspect that, at least occasionally, most of us can sympathise with Cassie of Spain who wrote in TV Scene 25: "Bras, suspender belts, and especially corsets, have no appeal to me at all and never have had. I dress to be comfortable, not to feel restricted." With sportswear the phrase "not to feel restricted" is of the essence. Playing any kind of sport calls for freedom of movement. Uncomfortable or restrictive clothing ruins athletic performance. To quote rule 1.4 of netball: "A team's uniform can be fun, even fashionable, but needs to retain the essentials of ease of movement." This quotation is especially revealing about women's sportswear. Can you imagine a male game with rules allowing that a team's uniform can be fun, even fashionable? I think not. No wonder we turn to women's clothing, not least the sportswear, for fun! Returning to Cassie from sunny Spain, she says of bras: "Well, to be honest I did try one once and found it so uncomfortable that I never bothered again." Crumbs! I'll bet it wasn't a sports bra. Some bras are a great deal more comfortable than others. It helps a lot if the bra is the right size. If it fits properly, a sports bra is surely the most comfortable of all. It is designed to hold breasts reasonably securely, and is thus quite well adapted to securing prosthetic breasts. Skimpier types of bra, especially, are apt to give rise to fall-out problems. Another property of sportswear is that although the women's and men's garments are sometimes so different (men don't flash their knickers on the tennis court!), they are sometimes intriguingly similar. I have mentioned the way in which hockey culottes reminded my youthful self of boy's clothes. I think that such different-in-some-ways, similar-in-others clothing has always been very potent for me. It marks some kind of exploration of sexual difference. The realm of sportswear is especially rich in clothes of this sort.  
  f484_701genrssportpage5.jpgI own two pairs of women's white shorts suitable for tennis. I wouldn't wear either of them in public because neither of them is designed for someone of my shape. It is, essentially, the bottom problem I noted in respect of swimsuits. However, I enjoy trying each pair of shorts on from time to time: so similar to men's shorts in some ways, but in other ways quite different. The two pairs are also quite different from each other. One is made from a stretchy fabric, the other much less so. They feel very different when I wear them, each intriguing and enjoyable in it's own way. There are some items of women's sportswear which it would be easy for a man to carry off. Jogging bottoms are an easy example for those of us (and there are many) who would like to step out in an item of women's clothing, but do not dare - this could be a solution. An example of how unobjectionable a man in a woman's jogging bottoms may seem comes instantly to mind: On a boating expedition, an ill calculated step from boat to bank ripped my only pair of dry jeans beyond repair. As the person on board nearest my size (14, to be precise) a friend's wife had no hesitation in loaning me a pair of her jogging bottoms. It was the only time I ever wore one of her garments, and it hardly counted as transvestism. Another form of sportswear gender crossover is that some garments can serve for either sex. The games kit I quoted from She Male Slavery includes a T-shirt, a garment equally at home in a male or female sports bag, but the same T-shirt teamed with a tennis skirt instantly takes on femininity... I am not especially interested in unisex clothing. The pleasure in gender-crossing garments, such as T-shirts, owes everything to being set in the context of gender-specific garments. Transvestism relies on the delight of difference. It is, for example, delightful to find fastenings which are never employed in mens wear. That is surely part of the attraction of stockings and suspenders. This being so, it is good to find that many - most? - sports skirts have a kind of fastening which I have yet to see in a male garment. As I write, I have a royal blue netball skirt before me, the better to describe this fastening. If we think of a zip fastener as a conventional railway, this fastening is more like a monorail. A metal tag runs along a nylon strip with serrated edges. The tag has a lever which, when depressed, locks it to the nylon strip. Lift the lever and it slides freely. With this device, the waist band can be adjusted exactly to any size within a range of a couple of inches. The sliding fastener holds the waist band firmly but comfortably in place, retaining the essentials of ease of movement. Not only my body moves easily, but also my hem line. As I leap, it flips up to provide the essential knicker-flash. It can be fashionable, and is certainly fun. So girls, play up, play up, and play the game. If the game is transvestism, so much the better! It's a jolly good game; I can't think of one I'd rather play - isn't it your favourite sport? Hurrah for the team! Well played girls! Well flashed those knickers!

Nov 201520

Cross Dressing, My Discovery

short story
Cross dressing is not like a common cold which has a beginning and an end, and only lasts a short time. Cross dressing is much more permanent than that because the need to cross dress is deeply rooted in the individual's own identity. One is not told by anyone that he or she is a transvestite - more likely the individual found out for himself that he had a desire for cross dressing, and through his own efforts found out that this was called transvestism. Having found out that one is a TV there follows a long period of self-discovery. It is my opinion that transvestism is not a static situation but something that develops and matures along with the individual. The following is a record of how I discovered cross dressing and how I have learned to accept it as part of me. At the age of fourteen I was in love with a pretty girl who lived a few houses down the road. It was the usual experience of a young adolescent male discovering the delights of the female sex. We kissed and cuddled whenever we could. Such was my infatuation that I soon began to have fantasies about wearing her dresses. Soon I was imagining that she forced me to wear them and, to cap it all, I started to imagine what it was like to be her as a girl. Looking back this may seem incredibly confusing, but at fourteen there is a lot less self-analysis, and rather more doing and experimenting. Adult standards are not so deeply entrenched at this stage. It seems that I had at least discovered the idea of cross dressing and that the next step was clearly to try it out. Periodically I started to wear knickers and tights under my jeans. Eventually I was able to borrow a bra and obtain a skirt from a jumble collection. However, the opportunity to cross dress was very limited in our small house, especially as I had four brothers from whom to keep my secret. At about this time it was necessary to reconsider what I was doing. I lived in a small village in rural Norfolk where I suspect no one had experienced of transvestism or even knew what the word meant. I had discovered cross dressing before I knew what it was called. The next step was to find out if cross dressing was harmful, was there a cure, were there other people like me, and if so how did they cope? The sources of information at hand were limited and I was certainly not going to ask the doctor or my parents. It was already clear to me that society did not approve of this behaviour. No, I would have to find out by myself, but where could I get the information I needed? The newspapers, especially the trashy Sunday ones, often carried stories of men being caught wearing women's clothes. These articles were reported in the most sensational and scandalous way possible. There were also a few reports of men having operations to become women. I soon made a collection of these reports and from them discovered the word 'transvestite'. The handy home dicitonaries I had did not even mention the word (nor cross dressing) so I went to a local library and consulted an encyclopedia, but even this was limited to a definition.  
  While I was at University I had my own room where I was able to indulge in cross dressing and even make-up. It was also at this time that I was able to find out more about transvestism from the college library. Most of the books on this subject were medical books, were clinically descriptive, and treated transvestism as a disease. Several authors suggested causes but none seemed particularly convincing. None dealt with the problem of how to cope with being a transvestite. All was not lost, however, when I discovered a copy of the biography of the Chevalier d'Eon de Beaumont in the history section. This at least set out how he had lived his life as a transvestite. At this time I bought a copy of 'Sexual Anomalies and Perversions' by Magnus Hirschfield from a small bookshop. Despite its title, the approach of this book was sympathetic and it told me that cross dressing was not that uncommon. Nonetheless, it was good to find a book that did not make 'good' or 'bad' value judgements; quite surprising for a book written in the 1920s. My own coming to terms with cross dressing was not easy. I had discarded my female clothes and make-up several times. Unfortunately, the desire to cross dress was not so easily removed. So, rather than persist in this cycle of dressing and not dressing, I decided to keep my female clothes and accept that I had a need to cross dress that must be satisfied. I no longer have a mental conflict. I am who I am and would not give up cross dressing for anything. Indeed, the process of self-discovery continues. My wife and I have what we call 'nights in' when I totally cross dress. When making love still cross dressed, I even assume the traditional female position. I have not, as yet, ventured out while dressed as a female; not because I fear detection as I am very convincing as a woman, but because I think that the smart lady in a black dress, court shoes and medium length wavy hair might attract the attention of a man. And then, readers what would I do if he chatted me up? Is there more to discover? For those who discover transvestism today there are many more sources of information (not least this website!). Even the press is changing. The 'agony aunts' are generally sympathetic, despite the fact that the same papers still carry the same old scandal stories. Things to seem to improving faster and faster though, and cross dressing is positively 'trendy' in certain sections of youth culture. Perhaps future generations of men will grow up with the knowledge that cross dressing is neither strange nor uncommon?

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