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My Second Confession To Someone

March 24, 2012

The first time I ever confessed that I was a crossdresser was to my high school girlfriend.  I learned my lesson about being more selective of whom I tell.  Years went by before I decided to tell someone else.  I felt like I needed help, so I selected my sister to be my confidant.

First, you must understand that even though I kind of loved crossdressing, I also hated it.  I have read where other crossdressers post the same experience.  I would find myself craving to crossdress, but not wanting to.  Then when I gave in, I enjoyed the experience, but it always ended in sexual release.  Often, that was the only thing that occurred.  That brought on feelings of guilt and shame.  The craving to dress up would end immediately.  Perhaps, the craving was not to dress but to “unload” my body.  It is a powerful force.

With the understanding that I did not want to be a crossdresser, I hope you can understand that I had quit crossdressing many times, but it never lasted.  It was more powerful than me, I suppose.  I have heard of an old saying, “There are two dogs fighting inside me.  The one who is winning is the one whom I feed.”  If it is at all possible to crossdress, and I resist, then the temptation persists constantly.  Maybe I will crave it for hours, but maybe it will be days.  Eventually, I would give in.  Even if I didn’t want to.  I do not like for anything to have power over me.  In general, I would happily choose to submit but stubbornly fight to resist being forced to submit.  But with crossdressing I was always a loser.

I decided I would tell my sister and let her be my accountability partner.  If I had someone else who was going to ask me if I had given in, then I might be more likely to resist the strong temptation.  We were out on a shopping trip together.  I slowly built up to tell her that I liked wearing pantyhose.  I had tried on many other things, but that was the thing that I liked the most, and it was about the only thing I ever wear.  She was uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going to reject me because of it.  I told her I wanted to stop and I wanted her help.  She was willing to help me.  I went home and purged.

Purging is when a crossdresser gets rid of all of his feminine clothes.  I suppose some CDs might have other items like movies, magazines, wigs, breast forms, etc. that they would also throw away.  I never had anything like that.  It is common to see other CDs on the Internet posting about the times they purged.  We purge when we try to quit.  We purge because we hate this thing we love.  We purge, but then return to crossdressing and regret getting rid of our stuff because nothing changed except that we threw away some money.  After several purging episodes, I started losing faith in my ability to quit.  I started losing hope that purging was anything other than a dumb move.  However, when I purged after telling my sister, I  had not yet lost faith in purging.

Infrequently, my sister would ask me, “How are you doing?”  The answer was always, “Good!”  I had stopped dressing.  I created a website about quitting and my success.  The craving was still there, but I was winning!

Not dressing, meant that I was not having sexual release.  The urge remained.  During college, I had found another way to relieve myself.  I started using that method.  But a man needs something to think about to keep himself stimulated.  I would always think about dressing around people, or wearing something new that I had never tried before, etc.  Even though I was not dressing, it was still strongly tied into my self gratification.  Without the feeling of the fabric, it wasn’t nearly as good.  The sensations from the pantyhose were very helpful.

During this period of not dressing, something undesirable and unexpected happened.  I started looking at dirty pictures on the Internet.  I would look up pictures of women flashing their tops at Mardi Gras.  I was looking at porn, basically.  Some men, when they gratify themselves, will fantasize about having sex with some woman to stimulate them along.  I believe that is the reason porn exists.  This is that “adultery of the mind” that you might have heard of.  So far , even as I type this, I have never fantasized about having sex with anyone other than my wife.  (I am so grateful I don’t struggle with that.)  But seeing people being naked in public helped stimulate me enough to replace that stimulation that the fabric had given me.

If I had to choose between wearing cloth to looking at porn, I choose cloth!  I think that the immorality of crossdressing is more acceptable to me than the immorality of looking at naked women.  During my 9 month break from crossdressing, I had crossed a new line.  I was not crossdressing, but I was having those same cravings to dress and to go look at topless women.  Yes, I eventually started back dressing.  But the temptation to look at dirty pictures did not go away.  Now, I had two things to fight.  Not good!

To fill in the gaps, I ended up having an opportunity to [cross]dress up for an event.  This was when I started dressing again.  I had some clothes for the event, and I kind of stopped quitting.  By this point, my sister had gotten out of the habit of asking me how I was doing.  Eventually, the girlfriend I had at the time became my fiancé.  Before I proposed to her, I told her that I crossdressed.  I will post that story later.

So, nine months…  At this poing in my life, that is the longest I had ever quit crossdressing.  I do better later.

From → True Stories

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  1. Confession #3 | joeypress

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