RANSVESTIA
After doing a retreat in Africa I decided to talk over my problem with the priest who gave the retreat. he was a bit non-plussed, but I told him about F.P.E. and he wanted to know if they "pandered" to my desires. He allowed as there was no sin, but again couldn't see how I could practice it safely. My close friend listened to me with eyes open and said we were all crazy one way or another. If that was my way it didn't bother him. I introduced him to Alga and he visited the Beaumont society in London, but while he was sympathetic he wasn't interested. He'd have let me dress in his company, but his not being really interested dampened my enthusiasm about dressing for him. In fact that seems a prerequisite for me to enjoy my TVism, that the person I'm with is enthused about it. If not I'm better alone. This applies to men and women.
Since then I have never looked for advice, I believe I'm likely to get better advice from Transvestia or Sexology than from psychologist or psychiatrist or any general adviser. The major problem is that Transvestism (I love that word) is not generally acceptable and that I'm in a profession that is expected to advocate the so-called normal. If I'm to advise people I should not be a Kook myself; so seems to go the argument. It has never been a hinderance to me, and I'm sure has often kept me in sane mood. Priests can show feminine virtues more easily than some other professions, so as long as I show up for duty dressed outwardly in male attire and don't inject my TVism into my priesthood I'm doing all right. However if someone were to give me a silk alb with a slightly feminine cut I'd wear it of course and if anyone mentioned it I'd say it was a present. Priestly garb is certainly less masculine than average and as for Bishops-they have lots of nice dresses.
In those early days, after I found out I was a transvestite, I had great times with my hidden secret. I wore what I could, panties, stocking, a slip, a girdle under my normal clothes. In those early days I tended to buy girdles that were too small, and would at times have to remove them. One of the best things about being a woman surely must be that she can dress in totally different clothes at least three times a day and still be regarded as normal. It has to be obvious that I love clothes; I love dressing; I must be something of a narcissist, right? But I also love nudity and was for a time a member of a nudist group. There I met men and women of all shapes and sizes, played with teenage girls in the pool and wasn't called a dirty old man. No drink was allowed and no sex. Husbands came with wives and
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