In the interests of narrative structure, I’m going to spend the next couple of days transferring over some longer items I originally posted to the Crossdressers.com community. Not only will it add context to this blog, but it will allow me to link you to the original threads, where the incredibly supportive forum community over there helped me make sense of myself.
The following narrative was originally posted here.
My Little Adventure
I won’t lie. A few days ago I was ready to bolt back into my little closet and forget I’d ever explored this thing. But let me tell you about my day today.I’ve been seriously trying to embrace this side of myself all week, and this morning I woke up emboldened. It was going to be a boring office work day (I’m usually in front of an audience, but that begins next week), so I decided to try a little “underdressing” for the first time. I dug out my little secret stash, which I hadn’t touched in three months, and got out my hose. No one else was awake, so I had the bathroom to myself. I lotioned my legs, slid the hose on, and wore them under my work slacks.
Walking into work was interesting. I was hyper-aware of the feel of the nylon on my legs, not to mention the sounds — walking was noticeably nosier than without hose on and every audible swish of the hose against the fabric of the pants was like the Tell-Tale Heart to my ears. And the static! My slacks began to stick to my legs despite the morning lotioning and I was sure someone would notice. Luckily I’d grabbed the can of Cling-Free at home because I knew this might be a problem (thanks, Internet!). Still, I was super nervous all morning, even though my legs were under a desk in a side office I share with no one.
Then I had to go to the bathroom, and encountered another little problem — if I let my pants drop all the way down, someone might see the hose from under the stall! So I hitched them around my knees … and noticed runs in both legs. My only pair … 🙁
Tragic end to my bold little step, right?
Only at lunchtime I had to run to the local box store to get something … and I got bold again. I was thinking about losing my last pair of hose, and I began circling the women’s section, browsing whatever was nearby, scoping things out. And just as I was screwing up the courage to approach the Just My Size packages I saw something — right there in an easy-to-grab-and-go corner, they’d stocked some lace-topped black thigh-highs. Not elegant or expensive, but they immediately enticed me. Not letting myself overthink it, I quickly leafed through them, found a size I thought was mine, and stashed them in my cart.
Checking out was stressful. I was hoping the store would have self-checkout lines, but no luck. I almost left them behind. I’d had my excuse covered if someone said something about the plain hose (“I told my wife I was coming here and she asked me to pick her up a pair”) but I’m not sure that would fly with the lacy thigh-highs. Maybe I could make it lewd and suggestive — “It’s date night tonight, and I thought I’d pick the missus up something, know what I mean, wink wink?” Yeah, that would do it.
So I put my items on the counter, the hose at the bottom. The cashier was chatty. “Hello, sir! Find everything okay? Is it still cold out?” It was all very cordial … and then she picked up the thigh-highs. And she muttered, I kid you not, “Things have gotten very peculiar around here the last few minutes.” I just avoided looking at her, made my purchases, smiled, and walked away.
So many of you here are so much more experienced than I am at all this, that my story probably seems trivial. Sorry for blathering on about it. But really, what I’m trying to say with this is that, even just reading and participating here the last few days has helped me do something I wouldn’t have done before. The last time I tried to do something like this, I chickened out and got caught up in a shame spiral that had me cramming my few meager items in a box in the basement. But underdressing today, and buying those thigh-highs, felt better than I thought it would. By the end of the day I wasn’t hyper-aware of the hose under my pants; I was comfortable in them. I was comfortable, period.
So I guess I’m sticking around here for awhile. I tend to be a long-winded storyteller, so if I toss up too many of these kinds of posts just tell me “tl;dr” and I’ll dial it down. But in the meantime, thanks. Even a couple of days of a supportive community has been wonderful.