A Road Less Traveled - Part 1

By Michelle

After reading Paula’s mid-January account of her few days away, it brought to mind how I have also journeyed further and further into the feminine world over time.

My earliest recollections are putting on my mum’s apron and lipstick in a bungalow we moved from just before my 6^th birthday (so I must have been young) and being excited when seeing my then comedy heroes Morcambe and Wise femulating in wigs, makeup, evening dresses and matching long gloves (when I must have been a similar age). 

In the former instance my mother saw the lipstick and took me immediately to the bathroom and washed it off, making it quite clear that this was not the thing for me to do. 

As I grew, my mother’s clothes and shoes went from being too big, to being the right size (for an all too brief period) to being too small. I never got the chance to leave the house dressed whilst of school age and took some stupid risks when dressing upstairs whilst my parents were downstairs, always telling myself I could change quickly enough if I heard them coming (of course, that was completely unrealistic – had they decided to come upstairs, I would have no time to revert to my male self).

My first venture out en femme was when I was about 17 or 18 when my parents had gone out and under the cover of darkness I drove my car around the block and back into the garage.  A great thrill, but then I admonished myself for being so foolhardy and never did anything like that again while I lived at home, limiting myself to dressing within our four walls. 

Eventually my luck ran out when my parents went out to buy something from the shops. Assuming they would be gone for at least half an hour I dressed and was in my mother’s bedroom when I heard somebody coming up the stairs. I tried to run back to my room, but as I passed the top of the stairs I saw it was my mother, who had returned early as the shop had been shut, and she saw me. 

For those of you that have suffered this, you may have experienced the embarrassment I endured as I went downstairs later to talk to my parents – my worst nightmare had been realized. My parents, however, despite always previously showing complete disgust for any man who “dressed up as a woman” on television, were surprisingly supportive. I had feared they might disown me, but they didn’t. My dad said if I had those feelings again, I should go for a walk until they went away (my dad was very British – and I love him for it) and my mum offered me psychiatric help. 

Now you may feel these are rather negative reactions and I guess they are, but my parents experienced the war and the austerity of the post-war period and basically came from a very much less permissive era. They were also very introverted and shy and this was an experience that was new to them (as far as I’m aware). They were trying to help as best they could.

Partly as a result of the shock of being discovered by my parents that day and then meeting my first girlfriend a few weeks later, my desire to dress disappeared completely and I didn’t do so for 18 months! That was until I went to stay with her for a long weekend whilst she was at college. She had to work one morning and while she was out I noticed some gorgeous shoes on the floor of her bedroom – well that was that! 

Before I knew it I was dressed again, this time not in the rather boring clothes that my mother had, but in fashionable flowing skirts, flowery blouses and a full range of makeup – bought by a female of my own age. This was a much more exciting experience. I was hooked once again.

My girlfriend was not aware of my other self when three years later we were married. It was 7 years after that when I told her of my crossdressing. There followed a difficult time as she came to terms with the situation, but gradually she accepted the full me. Although given the choice, she would rather I stopped, she accompanies me on my outings whenever it is convenient for her to do so and generally is very positive about them.

Part 2 of Michelle's "A Road Less Traveled" will be here tomorrow.

Femulators in the United Kingdom, circa 1970.

Wearing Alice + Olivia.