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The loneliness of a mature crossdresser



Puberty changed and intensified my desire to dress. As a semi adult with working parents I now had more time to try on Mom’s clothes and for a while they even fit. A few fitful attempts to go out were made but even then I realized that my minimal skills of presentation did not provide an adequate “cover’ for my activities and outings ceased to continue and develop. Instead I relied exclusively on dressing while parents were working and while my older sibling was away. I only once was seriously threatened with discovery but I managed to winkle out of it successfully. As I grew older and larger Mom’s clothes no longer fit and I opted for her lingerie like nighties, panties and stockings. Unable to establish any contacts with similar minded people I retreated more and more into a defensive isolationist shell buttressed by secrecy. As the clothes supply “dried up” so did most of my opportunities for dressing and while the urges never left me the opportunities did. Still, whenever I saw a particularly well dressed woman I often thought how I would look in her clothes (assuming a fit) and back would come the old feelings of guilt, disapproval and shame and the need for hiding a secret.