RANSVESTIA

papers and catalogs. I occasionally wore panties, a girdle and nylons. when delivering evening newspapers on my route. The levis rubbing against the nylons was pleasing — I don't know why.

In my junior year in high school I met a girl I really cared for. I never told her about my TV tendencies, and voluntarily got rid of the few accumulated lingerie items. Life was great from that moment on for I started the acceptable dating process and unloaded the unacceptable practice of cross dressing and all of its related guilt. Even though I took our broken romance of several years very hard, I did not go back to cross dressing for the rest of high school and five years of college.

After college I went to work as a ranger in a western national park. I met my wife there and during the summer we became very close to each other. When our relationship approached the consideration of marriage, 1 revealed my earlier TV tendencies to her. She asked if I still dressed or wanted to do it. I said no and that discussion on TV ended. It was so brief my wife didn't remember it when I started cross dressing again and we exchanged a few heated words later.

How and why did I start dressing again? About four months after we were married. I was struggling to bring my grades up in a Wisconsin university. I wanted to demonstrate to myself and discretionary uni- versity administrators that I could do graduate work. My wife was also carrying six hours of night school and working full time. It was a strain on both of us and tensions mounted. They exploded after two months when my wife's mother in Utah suddenly became critically ill and was hospitalized. My wife understandably wanted to fly back to be at her mother's bedside. I refused to let her go unless her father said she defi- nitely should come. It would have meant sacrificing our meager savings, and dumping our school work and jeopardizing my graduate work. It was the toughest decision I ever made. My wife left our apartment in anger and was gone nearly seven hours on a cold hostile winter night. I seriously questioned myself and was emotionally upset feeling that I had no compassion for her.

In an effort to forget my plight, my attention momentarily shifted to her panty girdle on the bed. I tried it on for a few minutes. Alas, the sleeping giant of my feminine inclinations was awakened after seven years of abstinence. Panty girdles had a fascination to me, probably be- cause mother never had one and they were frequently advertised in news- papers which aroused my curiosity.

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