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My Psychology Of Been A Cross-Dress

It has to be said, why this was wrote I am not sure, I am finally beginning to understand the journey I began at the age of six and perhaps doing it this way helps. It's a short narrative, that attempts to explain my thinking and the frustration of accepting who I am.

This is not an erotic story; it is factual, honest, account of ones person struggle of the internal and external influences that have come about, without going to much in the dark past of my life.

I'm not sure if anyone other than me will actually read this, if anyone other than me is really that interested, though the grammatical errors will undoubtedly be in, it has to be said that it was probably the hardest piece of writing I have done to date.

For years it had been hidden, closeted away, indulge once or twice a week, with age I thought the desire, the need the compulsion would fade, it didn't, it got worse, stronger and more resilient. The unyielding ambition, the thought consuming wants of my other personality expanded, frustrations grew, depression commenced, long periods of that, I knew something had to be done an incentive to get things back in order.

By the time I was 33 the pain was unbearable, the anguish terrible, mood swings, loss of temper, the distant feeling, sensations of been trapped. I lived my girlfriend, and her three kids, most of whom were grown up, late teenagers, I thought a lot of them, a lot of her but realised I was sacrificing so much of me to make them happy. I couldn't relate this to her, that sickening sense that maybe she would understand, but her kids maybe not, those few months of self inflicted agony, tore the relationship apart. Right or wrong, and don't get me wrong, I still feel awful about it, but I had subconsciously made a decision not to fight to save the relationship. I knew it was going hurt, I was giving up an entire family and a woman that I had come to respect and love, but the complications were massive.

In truth I felt atrocious, self confidence slumped to an all time low and in my head was this war between who and what I was.

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