I don’t really know why I did it.  I think it might be something to do with a previous, recent blog entry which suggested that I might look on-line for a series of questions I could ask myself about my crossdressing life.

This, it turns out, was a not quite such a positive investigation as I might have hoped.  I know that the internet is awash with all manner of descriptors and search results on any given subject, so ‘Questions to ask a crossdresser’ was only ever likely to come up with a myriad of results, good, bad and indifferent.

Unfortunately, the browsing time led to an indication of the type of crossdresser that I was up to March 2017 – the last point of cessation.  It turns out that someone who is involved in dressing only in lingerie is, apparently, a ‘transvestic fetishist’, someone who has (it is explained) ‘an excessive sexual or erotic interest in crossdressing, often expressed in autoerotic behaviour, and is categorised as ‘paraphilia’.  This in turn describes paraphilia as being ‘the experience of intense sexual arousal to atypical objects, situations, fantasies, behaviours or individuals’

I don’t know why I should feel upset, or perhaps aggrieved about it, as I know only too well that my crossdressing sessions involved an acute amount of on-line exhibitionism, and only a small amount in actually wearing the clothes for comfort.

Long-term readers of my blog will know that I have openly talked about frequent appearances before a web cam, but equally so, periods where I have worn lingerie, off line, just for myself, for comfort, and taste, probably desire too, wearing under work attire for example.

Equally so, for the latter, I have also referred to instances where I have abruptly felt disgust at a day of wearing  ending with sexual kicks and a wish to get out of the lingerie as soon as possible – I guess that makes me a tranvestic fetishist then – but what about the times when I merely undressed having enjoyed the experience and returned to what I often called ‘civvies’?

Labels.  Just this week, I commented on a post by daniellaargento about the use of terms such as ‘T-Girl’ as something of offence, pornographic slur, suggesting that ‘we’ might need to come up with new terms seeing as though so many had been what I would describe as ‘hijacked’ for all manner of reasons, what I could suggest were some sort of gain and also of inciting hatred and ignorant misunderstanding.

Still, I have allowed myself to be labelled as a transvestic fetishist.  Well, at least that is what I currently figure that I was.  The fact that I ‘was’ should mean that I am slightly more content because, in reality, I’m not acting as a transvestic festishist anymore – well, not really.

So why then, have I been browsing the internet for crossdressers lingerie?  I have no idea.  There has been no aim to buy, or wear, so I was actually wasting my time – no more, no less.   Just the other week, I had something akin to a Eureka! moment.   There I was, ranting on in a previous blog entry how I’d denied myself the opportunity of crossdressing because I’d remotely stored my stash.

The Eureka! moment, if you like, came at the point that I realised that I did in fact have temptation within arms reach – there was still the wife’s now long unworn, last worn by me, chemises etc. hanging up in her wardrobe.   The real reason that I haven’t been drawn to temptation is that by ridding myself of the stash (not a word I favour, so I won’t use it again!) (Labels!), storing the lacy basques etc. of my own had, in fact, been a by-product of storing the real focus of everything about my currently historical crossdressing self – stockings – my very guilty pleasure.

Of course, I am not crossdressing these days for a number of other reasons.  At the risk of becoming boring, repetitive and predictable for regular readers, I will summarise the key points.

  • At the time I was proactively involved in crossdressing, barely anything else mattered – material and person – it came at the expense of a lot of things and people most closely.  Put bluntly, I didn’t know when to stop, apart from the odd occasions when I did.
  • Guilt and deceit: around a year ago, someone who I’d known for a while sadly passed away.  That allowed a whole cupboard full of their skeletons to fall out – none of them crossdressing related I should clarify – but I remonstrated with myself that I could not criticise this person for their deceit to those closest to them when I was engaging in a form of deceit myself.   Somehow, I seemed to sub-consciously beat myself up in my head when around family, reminding myself that I was hiding a secret, but carrying on as if I wasn’t – and it turned out that I wasn’t entirely content with that towards the end of March 2017 either.

There is however, a much more disturbing effect of my own supposedly fetishistic indulgences – in all honesty, I don’t think my sex life has been the same over recent years.   During the same searches I referred to at the start of this blog entry, it had been suggested to me that those indulging in such a way were often doing so as a way of getting sufficient sexual kicks and didn’t need intimacy with another as a result.  That was something that I found difficult to read and accept, as I honestly felt that had been the case, in my own period of indulgence and arguable selfishness.

I remember a time, probably when there was less care, and more kink, and before the beginning of my indulgences, when things were great intimately, frequent etc. – you know…  Perhaps. If I was to be fairer to myself, and did some more searching, I might well reassure myself that, perhaps as we get older, our urges can and do decrease in frequency and extent.

Certainly, there have been many instances of comedians joking about a lack of libido and the good old classic ‘’Not tonight Dear, I have a head-ache” get-out line.    Had I have not been secretly indulging in the way that I had been, I might accede to the effects of the passage of time as we grow older, but I can’t honestly accept that with what has been going off so covertly.

I do somehow feel that I have allowed myself to become corrupted by apparent thrills of dressing and exhibiting, the pattern of which is only broken by the few occasions where I dressed for myself in between.  I did say that crossdressing came at the expense of other things and people!

Whilst maintaining interest in crossdressing forums and websites at this time, whilst still browsing the internet for relevant subject matter, whilst going through the odd spell of rather unpleasant cold turkey so to speak, it is, in actuality, now some 10 months since I ceased being whatever it was – label it as you either will or won’t.   I’ve done enough labelling of things for myself.

Even the urges to experiment with sex toys of late, have, for now at least, eased off, box less than ticked.   Yet, given the right frame of mind, I’ll quite happily strip off, down to my everyday g-string undies and go before a webcam – only, in reality, I really don’t know why, as it is largely just a compete waste of time.  It is however, somehow, total escapism during that time, inhibitions discarded, albeit with limits applied, and in two minds too, one slightly more powerful than the other at any given time.

A lot to think on then, for me certainly if not for you.  A label of some sort, reasons and rationale not to crossdress.  Largely, a mindset to remain on course, and make amends to myself and the unknowing others, yet on occasion, desperately searching for some rhyme, reason or method to begin crossdressing in lingerie again, wrong though I seem to know that would be.  I’m not tempted enough on average – so, I guess I’m still recovering then.