illustrate another, less expected trait which seems fairly common among other TVs as well). I don't recall thinking very much about dressing during these years, but I'm sure I must have, as I do recall wondering how my friends would react if they knew.

Clearly, my early adventure at dressing had been far more than just a lark, but I tried not to let the implications prey on my mind. Since I had always liked girls, I remember thinking that I would probably lose this urge to wear women's clothes once they began to grow up and wear the same things. I would, in a word, "outgrow" it, so there was really nothing to worry about. Whistling in the dark!

As it turned out, of course, my desires did anything but abate, and I spent the next several years getting secretly acquainted with my mother's wardrobe. At first it was only about twice a year. Then, with the onset of puberty, my experiments grew more frequent, each one going further than the last. All this despite my sincere resolve after every episode never to do it again.

By now I was really starting to get scared of what this might mean. Not only was I finding it impossible to quit, but I found myself thinking about it more often as well. So I deliberately cultivated all sorts of time-consuming hobbies in a campaign to rivet my attention on something else. Stamps, coins, model cars, model trains, tropical fish - you name it. The net result of this all-out effort was that I became an extremely versatile and accomplished hobbyist and an extremely guilt-ridden TV.

I didn't know that I was a TV however. In fact, I didn't know what I was, and as I entered the early years of sexual consciousness, it bothered me no end. Whereas before I had been outgoing and athletic, I now became more introverted and studious. My grades soared while my spirits sank. No one else could possibly be like this, I kept telling myself. What was wrong with me? Was this some early manifestation of homosexuality? I doubted that, since nothing else seemed to fit what I knew of the problem. Even so, I found the smutty stories the other boys swapped both repulsive and embarrassing and began to lose confidence around girls. Adolescence was, in short, miserable. But it didn't stop my dressing.

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