Categories: Uncategorized

One thing I want to say right off the bat here: I hope to keep this blog classy.

I’ve browsed a lot of active CD / TG blog and social network streams lately, and so many of them seem to revolve around panty shots, sexual innuendo, and sissy girl culture. To each their own, of course; but my plan with this blog is not to stick a finger in the face of my manhood. Instead, my sole goal here is to try and capture as sincerely as possible the experience I’m going through.I hope to provide a quality narrative about my experience that will hopefully invite engaging discussion about this community I’m joining.

Photos will be uncommon (trust me, you wouldn’t want to see me in a dress anyway). Sexual comments will be virtually nonexistent (though discussions of sexual activity in the context of “How does a married man tell his wife he wants to have sex with his thigh-highs on” isn’t out of the question). Introspection will be center stage; melodrama will be a recurring guest star; self-pity will definitely have a walk-on role. Posts will come as they come — I won’t be writing everyday.

For those interested in more frequent expressions of anxiety or the occasional picture, check out my Twitter feed. For those who want to see me getting all superficial and girly, check out my Pinterest account, where I promise to drool over dresses and fantasize about tights.

Thanks for reading. I hope to make it worth your while.

Categories: Uncategorized

So, welcome to my blog-thing. I set it up this morning because I was in a mood. This morning was the first morning that I have allowed myself to be myself from skin to stitches, as it were. I don’t have a lot of female garb, but I was able to piece together three items to form what could charitably be called an outfit, and I have allowed myself to be comfortable in them all morning as I browsed the Internet and set up the site. It was so, so comforting.

I am actually behind in my errands for the day because I have been loathe to change back into my regular clothes. But life calls and my family will be home soon, and so I reluctantly am about to trade hose for denim, lace for cotton. I’ve felt so natural this morning, so methat I can’t help but think of this as getting back into my costume. My him costume.

Categories: Uncategorized

This is an introduction that I posted to the day I joined there. It’s the first time I’d commited any of this to the screen. It is, essentialy, my coming out post. I edited it slightly because I’m anal about my writing.

Okay, so I’m here, which is a big step for me.

I’m thirtysomething. I’m married with kids. I’ve been secretly and occasionally skirting around the edges of … er, experimenting with … I don’t know what I’d call it, really. A compulsion? I don’t know. A few times when I was a teenager, I dressed up in my mom’s clothes when no one was home. There was no Internet back then, just the occasional talk show with men dressing as women on the television, so I didn’t know what to make of myself. I just kind of hid it. I wasn’t a popular kid in school — tall and “husky” — so it was just one more thing to hate about myself.

My senior year, they did a “cross dressing costume day” during a school spirit week. I dressed up for that day in some of my mom’s clothes. My mom thought it was a bit odd, but she played along. I think she thought something was suspicious when I put on pantyhose — I went more for “real girl” than “cartoony CD” like most people. It was wonderful that day. I dressed up the rest of the days (kid costume day, pajamas day, etc.) just so no one would think I only dressed up that one day because I wanted to.

To this day, I’ve never been in public in girl’s clothing again. Or “en femme,” or whatever it’s called. Honestly, I’ve never owned a full outfit of my own girl’s clothing. When I left for college, my mom’s clothes stayed at home. I occasionally secretly found a way to obtain a pair of pantyhose in college — I guess you could say I have a pantyhose fetish — but I’d never do anything more than wear them in the bathroom for five minutes before pulling them off with some shame.

One time in college, around Halloween, I went into a Goodwill store on the excuse of finding a Halloween costume and tried on a couple dresses. They didn’t fit (I’m a big dude) and I left quickly.

For awhile I owned my own small business. I kept a pair of pantyhose and skirt I’d pilfered from my girlfriend’s large roommate in the back. Sometimes after closing the store I’d put them on and walk around just to feel the swish. I always wished I’d had shoes.

Now I’m married. I’m a parent. I’ve ruthlessly suppressed most of this for years. I read some TG fiction on the web for … er, you know … but I’m a big dude and a husband and a father and I don’t have the privacy or opportunity to do anything. When my wife was pregnant, I tried on some of her maternity wear because it fit my large frame better. I still have two items from those clothes stashed away with some nylons I bought for her once but were too big for her; I’m always afraid she’ll find them.

Lately I’ve been relapsing. Or surging. Or something. I’ve got heartache and urges. Today, on a whim, I played around with my wife’s razor, and before I knew it I had half of one thigh shaved. I’m so afraid she’ll notice.

Anyway, I’m babbling. I’m posting all this because I have never, ever told anyone this out loud. I have never been able to admit that I am anything other than a straight guy, but lately I’ve been thinking all the way back to those days in high school and realizing how dishonest I’ve been.

I don’t know what happens now. But thanks for letting me post this somewhere.