RANSVESTIA

The years that followed were happy. Nothing had changed about my FPia. I still felt that surprise; I felt it was strange. But I knew well then that in my life, this was not something that could be held back. I began to take it seriously, even though I still knew and understood virtually nothing about it. I keenly realized what a pitiful spectacle this must be, a man dressing himself in women clothes. But equally clearly I felt, that this might be true to all the rest of the world; but for some strange reason, it was not true about me.

I had not in any way lost self respect or self confidence. I realized that something so obviously and so intensely part of me, must be meaningful. It was too precious, I loved it too much, and I kept it jealously to myself. What concern was it to anyone else? I dressed constantly, but bothered no one and offended no one.

One thing I never needed was an audience. I am not in any sense of the word a ham or an actor, and I have never in my life impersonated or imitated anyone or anything. I put on a dress to be myself, I don't dress to put on an act. To me, the female impersonator is an unemployed actor trying something unusual to get a job. I wish him luck, and that is all. Nor have I felt the same urge I understand many FPs feel to get "out". Of course, I never had guidance, and that made it risky. I never did venture out except with extreme caution, and never out of reach of a ready escape. My most pleasant evenings I spent at home in my apartment in pretty dresses, making my meals, cleaning up, perhaps doing some work, and taking care of my things.

And still, there came a time in my life when I wanted to give up all this. No FP ever tried with better chance of success than I, because, as incredible as this may sound, all this time I never knew what it was. I did not know it had a name. I never knew others were doing it. I had lived a sheltered life, and I had never heard the word "trans- vestite".

I had fallen in love at the time, and wanted to get married. Suddenly, I began to think the dressing had been just delayed adoles- cence, something I could turn off and shut out if I only set my mind to it. Life was going to start for me in earnest. Enough of fantasies! The presence of a loving wife would surely set everything right.

Self deception and wishful thinking can do wonders, and I drew every erroneous conclusion about myself there was to draw. It would

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