In My Beginning

[FrancineMann]

Over the years I have tried to pinpoint when crossdresssing first started for me. The earliest account was in second grade school when my buddy John and I were playing a game at school with several other girls. The game entailed the girls trying to land and sit on a chair we were pulling around. In the midst of this game, while the chair was at the hands of me, one of the girls missed her mark and landed on the floor. Not only did she hit the floor but also smacked her head again the steel closet doorjamb and cut the back of her head open, which required a few stitches. I later apologized for my actions and caught seven kinds of hell when I got home. The kids at school also never let up on the ridicule that stemmed from the accident. From that day forward it seemed the whole world turned against me. I was accused of willfully causing the incident on purpose. Little did anyone know it was an unintentional accident. I felt very sorry for the girl and vividly remember the white dress with red polka dots she was wearing. It was beautiful! I remember being in awe of the beauty of that dress. The memory of that day is as if a picture was imbedded within my brain.


From that day forward things seemed to progress with cross-dressing. I have always admired beautiful things in secrecy. I was always afraid to say anything that might give the impression that I really liked beautiful clothes on girls for fear it would be sissy like or a sign of weakness and promote the sissy stigma. I was always silent after this time. Not saying a word, unless being forced to, came from my father going wild on me after the accident at school. It seems I always tried to avoid any contact or conflicts that would piss him off after that. He was a tyrant and everyone knew it. A good guy as long as things went his way but look out when they didn't. When he went off the veins would bulge out of his neck, his face was red, fire came out of his eyes, and his teeth shown like a monster from some bad movie. Not a fun guy to be around but when you grow up with this type of environment you don't understand it until years later. I soon learned how to cope with this type of childhood. I buried myself within my hobbies and work just to kill the time.

It seems that I have always preferred the company of girls to boys because boys are so rough and tough. I never was rough and tough and always steered clear of those activities all through out school. I was and still am tall and slender and always smiling. I never seemed to fit in. Either you were a jock or a farmer. I hated sports and farming was not our lifestyle. There was no in between and I grew up rather lonely. I did have a couple of friends but they always had their own agenda. Home life after school was pretty boring. We lived five miles from town in a very rural setting. With three younger sisters and no brothers life was kind of boring. I had to find things to occupy my time. I did a lot of fishing and tinkered quite a lot with mechanical things. Always taking things apart and putting them back together again. These were the learned skills that made my life today rather easy going to say the least.

When I did play at home with my sisters it was usually with cardboard dolls and color forms. Do you remember these? Sometimes we would make the clothes, color them, and tape them to the figures. We also played house quite a bit. On days when things were lonely I would often leaf through the many catalogs we seemed to have an endless supply of Sears, Penny's, Montgomery Wards, and Spiegel just to name a few. I remember spending hours leafing through the lingerie sections and dreaming how nice it would be all dressed up like the models. I wanted to be in those pictures. The compelling desire to cross dress was starting to gets it's grip on me. It's strange to imagine that I was never really attracted to girls in the biological sense but only from the beauty they presented when all dressed up. I wanted to be beautiful like them and in my opinion boys are not beautiful and can never be. They need makeup and a change of clothes.

Memories of my very first cross dressing started with me standing in the bathroom staring at my mothers girdle hanging on the shower rod drying. I tried it on when no one was around and the effect was like magic. The snugness of that garment hugging me in all directions was breath taking. I knew from that point on I had to wear women's lingerie. This led to me to sneaking around at night in my parent's bedroom, as we were supposed to be in bed, shuffling through her drawers to find this wonderful garment. I would find it and take it to my room to wear. One night I wore it to bed all night. The following morning I was going to wear it to school but decided other wise for fear someone might find out and embarrass me. I went to school as usual and was met with a surprise when I got back home. My mom was pissed and wanted know who had her girdle. She pants search me and my sisters and she proceeded to search our rooms also. She never found the thing and left disgusted. I had hid the thing behind a wall hanging on the nail. I quickly transferred it in my sister's room for them to find. Low and behold it was found about an hour later and I was off the hook. It was then I realized how much this little garment was valued by my mom. I knew right then and there I was never going to be able to sneak her girdle away again as she would be on the lookout.

This led to me finding my own garments after experiencing the effect lingerie had on me in such a short time. Sometime later I decided that I needed to try on my sisters garter and bra and slept with them on all night. The following morning I hid them between the mattress and box spring for safekeeping. You might know my grandma found the things during making my bed the next morning while I was out playing. The end of the world seemed near when I came home to be scolded by grandma for having such sissy thoughts of having my sister's undergarments in my bed. I really felt like crawling into a hole. I really felt ashamed! I vowed never to do that again. Well guess what! It did return and with a vengeance.

When our family would visit our relatives we would play hide and seek. This provided the perfect opportunity for me to search their drawers for my new private lingerie collection. It grew pretty large and was locked in a cabinet it my bedroom. This provided me with access to a whole new wardrobe that I wore almost every night in bed. I slept so soundly being encased in all that silk and nylons. Soon I was wearing the stuff to school, bras, panties, and girdles. I became very brave as the time seemed to melt away and I dreamed how beautiful I felt under my male clothing. I used to look at the girls and say to myself: Wow you look better than she does and she looks great. One day in English class the kid behind me noticed the bra clasp through my shirt and made a big issue out it right in front of everyone. I wanted to die. Lucky for me it was near the end of the period and I raced out of the class and quickly got the darn thing off when no one was around.

One morning I was putting on a specially made garment I kind of sewed together from a long line bra and panty girdle. Panty hose were also sewn on to it and make this thing kind of tricky to get on. It was as if I wanted to have some permanent type of lingerie on me in such a way that I could not get it off and get caught in it. While getting dressed my mom surprised me by sneaking up the stairs and I quickly jumped back under the covers. She noticed my nylon-covered foot sticking out from under the covers. She and I had a little tussle with covers as she tried to get them off me to expose the inevitable, which she probably knew about. She let me win and I locked the stuff away for another time. Nothing was said about it. The fear of my dad finding out was not an option. He made it very clear that he despised queers and gays. I thought this of myself and did not want to give him the opportunity to find out about his son. He was like Darth Vader. I knew if he found out he would beat me senseless. One day I was out and my sisters found the cabinet in my room unlocked. Of coarse they found all of the lingerie I had liberated from my family over a 6-month period and informed my mom. When I came home I had quite a shock as all the stuff was laid out nicely on the kitchen table. I could have died on the spot and my face was so hot it was on fire. My mom wanted an explanation as to why the stuff was in my room. I tried to lie my way out of it and she knew better. We waited until my dad got home and I knew I was in deep manure! There was no way I could survive this ordeal in my mind. It was more than I could deal with. I thought about running away.

When my dad arrived home from work my mom proceeded to tell him where they were found all the clothes and he wanted an explanation right away. She also stated that these clothes were the same ones missing from the family members who were complaining about it at different family functions. My dad was furious to think he had a thief in the house. He gave all of us an alternative to either tell the truth or face getting it beaten out of us, one at a time, in the barn. I finally broke down crying and made up a ridiculous lie about how I had found them in the barn and that someone else put them there. He bought it and we were all saved and spared of a beating.

Some time following this incident I thought about suicide very seriously. We had a big gun case in the den with lots of shotguns and rifles to choose from. The guilt and denial were bad enough. Fueled up by living with Darth Vader and having the kids at school constantly harassing me I thought that death was surely the only way out. At the age of thirteen I knew exactly what end of the shotgun to use and how to do it. I rehearsed the scene over and over again with the gun in my mouth trying to make sure that I got it right the first time by pulling the trigger with my toe. Before I got the nerve to do myself in I had an experience that changed my mind.

My dad bought a car for $15 for the engine needed to fix his truck with a blown engine. We soon found out that the reason it was so cheap. The previous owner committed suicide in it in the same manor as I was contemplating. He blew his brains out inside the car. There was blood and brains everywhere inside that vehicle and even a piece of skull on the front seat. This sort of changed my mind, as we were all able to view the car for an entire day in the driveway. Afterwards he took the car back in the field and burned it as required by the local police. I never forgot that day. Needless to say I am still writing today and glad to be here.

It's a funny how fate seems to intercede throughout our lives and spare us from the grim reaper form time to time.

[FrancineMann]

As the years of high school continued so did my urge to cross dress. I found that working was a way to keep this expensive habit going and everyone was happy. I found out that catalog ordering was the ticket to restocking my wardrobe. I found myself struggling over and over with the desire to dress and the many purges that followed. On one side I was in seventh heaven when dressed and on the other side I felt so much guilt and denial and was so ashamed that I was dressing like a girl.

I had very few friends. I could count them on one hand. I hated every waking day of my life in high school. I somehow survived by inventing my own personal friend within myself to talk to. There was very little love at home and my dad made life a living hell. It was almost like ...will I survive until morning. Life was pretty grim. I became introverted and turned very cold to society.
During my junior year I started having stomach troubles. I thought at the time it must have been an ulcer and just went on with my life. Not really thinking about the things that were eating me alive on the inside. Girl friends were not an option at the time and living in the country with no wheels made it all the worse. Work became a conduit to divert my attention away from the guilt, denial, and shame. The harder I worked the more I did not think about it. I started my work career at age 15 and was able to master it in my early 30-s. I concentrated so hard that I thought I could erase cross-dressing from my mind. However, this did not stop the effect of the being in the closet, as I will explain later.
Work entailed sweeping the floor at my dad's shop. I had to walk there after school and always passed the church on the way. Our minister always told us that the church would always be open if we ever needed to prey. I remember several times stopping by and preying in the dark asking for god's forgiveness and letting this madness end. At the time I thought cross-dressing was a terrible thing and purged my wardrobe several times. I never really understood that this was the way god created me and was a hidden gift until almost thirty years later.
As I entered into college it was like a whole new world. People were actually friendly and I made several permanent friends. During my first year of college the urge to dress became so great that I once again purchased a whole new line of lingerie. They had to be very tight and restrictive. Almost like punishing myself. I even had the balls to go in person to Sears to buy an 18 Hour all-in-one girdle. As you can imagine I got quite a look from the sales clerk. I vividly remember stopping on route 2 and changing in the car on the way to see one of my college buddies. You can imagine the adrenaline rush as all the cars were whizzing by and there I was naked and squeezing my way into a brand new all in one girdle. It is amazing how compelling the urge is and I was quite desperate sometimes.
At home I became the master of hiding the stuff. I thought I was really good at keeping this a secret. All along I was thinking about how good it would feel to be tight laced into a very tight restrictive corset. The idea of having a tiny waist and having that constant hug was something I craved for. I spent quite a lot of time over the years trying to find a corsetiere to make one but never seemed to find one. I even tried to construct one from scratch but it never worked out.

Then one day at college it happened, I met a girl. I disliked her at the time. She had so much makeup on she looked out of place. As the weeks progressed I soon became friends and we started dating. She was the one to ask me out. We would spend hours talking and having fun. Three years would pass before I married this gal, my future wife.

The manure hit the fan at home once again. While I had my girl friend and two of her friends over at our house for a visit, my dad popped in to say hi. He asked me what the nature of the letter he was holding was all about. Evidently the mail order company was interested in finding out how I liked all the lingerie that I had purchased. The company was very interested in my opinion and satisfaction. My jaw must have hit the ground. There were three girls and my dad in front of me waiting for an answer and my face was beet red and on fire. By now I had become a master at dreaming up ideas. I said it was for a fraternity prank. Of coarse that's it! They bought it. I had to be way more careful.

Cars and women then became a big motivator for me. Cross-dressing seemed to take a back seat for a while. During one of my dates with my wife I told her that I had done things that I could never admit to. I never had the guts to admit cross-dressing to anyone at the time. One seems so alone and as if you are the only one on the planet. At the time it didn't matter. We were in love. Love was such a new thing and distracted my attention away from the cross-dressing. I thought I could hide it from her forever.

Around this time in my life I grew a beard and never once shaved it for 25 years. It was a facade for me to hide behind. A masquerade show to prove I was manly.
The wedding day finally came. When we went on our honeymoon and I remember buying her lingerie for the celebration. She wasn't really all that enthused when I presented the gift to her. She did wear it to please me though. This act was a way for me to enjoy the lingerie without me wearing it. As a few years passed I bought her many outfits of lingerie to wear. She would wear them a few times and seldom again. It should have been apparent to me that she didn't really get into dressing this way. So it became like an obsession to me. The more I bought the more she had to wear and the more she rejected it. During these years the compelling urge never bothered much. As long as I could enjoy it on her it was leaving me alone. This was the escape from reality.
One night during one of our more creative and wild sexual encounters I had tied my wife up and blind folded her. I then went and changed into some of her lingerie and returned for some wild sex. It is amazing how the alcohol relaxes the mind and the true inner person emerges from within. The girl within was having the time of her life with my wife and suddenly my wife realized what I was wearing. Even though she could not see she could tell what I had on. She was not a happy camper. Not a good way to let her find out. I blew it off as just some fun and she seemed Ok with that even though deep down I wanted to tell her. I never pulled that one again as I did not have the courage. I had slipped up. I just could not face the truth and tell her. I tried to bury the cross dressing back deeper into my mind.

Children finally came about and then the urge for me to dress reappeared as well. Not having sex for six weeks was hard. The cross dressing was back in full swing. This time I had to be very careful. I dare not let her find out. I really wanted to secretly get into her wedding dress but the opportunity never presented itself to this day. I became very worrisome that I would forget some detail and slip up. This worrying led to a very horrible stomach disorder that I did not know the cause of at the time. It manifested over time from many years prior. Atrophic Gastritis - the lining of my stomach had disappeared. It became so bad that I told the doc that if this were how life had to go on I would rather die. The doc had said that this was a disease that women usually get and there was no set time period for cure. They didn't know the cause and didn't know the cure except for time. Just the news I needed to hear - I had a womanly disease. With drugs it took 8 years to get over.

Then one night I was to embark on a very difficult journey. It started by us watching a special on Drew Carry. He went on to tell how he was child molested when he was a young boy. That statement hit me like a bolt of lighting. I was frozen in time as I remembered back to when it had happened to me. Tears started to run down my cheeks as I listened and tried to fight back the tears. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of my wife. This was the start of me coming to terms with my hidden past and the cross-dressing. Slowly but surely I was coming out and there was no stopping. For quite a long period I struggled with what was going on inside me. I seemed out of sorts and had no control over emotional things. My wife asked me for the longest time what was ailing me and that she could see a dramatic change in me, as I was depressed and very quiet once again.

I bought a book called Parting the Leather Curtain. At the time it seemed something to re spark the life back into our marriage and get me out of the rut I was in. Written by mistress Jacqueline, It was her life story and how she came to terms with it. It talks about how she evolved from being a submissive partner who always wanted to be spanked. Eventually she became a Mistress who now provides these activities to individuals who need it. I was one of those people. I deserved to be punished and wanted it to be at my wife's hand. I tried to get my wife to read the book and kind of get the idea. She wasn't into this sort of thing. I became even more demanding. Now I was becoming sadistic. I wanted my wife to tie me up and treat me bad like she was my leather-clad mistress. You know all the associated things that go with it. I was becoming a different man. Almost like Dr. Jerky and Mr. Hyde. Our marriage was suffering badly.
She woke up one morning upset and suggested that I go see a Psychologist. The funny thing is that I did. The same morning I made an appointment at the Cleveland clinic. I knew the problem but didn't want to think about it. Prior to seeing the doc I wrote down most of what I have written here except for the major cross dressing stuff. I was trying to fix blame somewhere else like the world was at fault. During my first visit I read the doc everything and was very close to breaking down. I wanted her to know that I was there to save our marriage. She stated that I had to tell my wife the same thing I had read to her.

I was in shock. I wanted her to do the legwork. I wanted her to do the telling with hopes that my wife would be accepting of my cross-dressing. I finally got up the nerve to tell my wife. Not the complete part of my desires, just the fringe stuff. I kept my composure and she was in shock. This info had caught her totally off guard. I thought it would be the end for sure. Low and behold she sort of accepted it and agreed to attend the next meeting with the doc. At the next visit the doc suggested that I continue the mild cross-dressing. I was the happiest man alive then. But it took two more trips to the doc for my wife to accept what I was doing. I felt good that I had saved the marriage and had the blessing to cross dress. I thought I was in seventh heaven.



*** Topic merged to proper ongoing topic by SL. ***

[KimberlyS]

Wow Francine that is quite the story. Thank you for sharing. I hope your marriage continues to get better.

kimberlys cd
joe in a skirt

[Requal Jo]

Thank you for sharing Francine.

[Ralitsa]

Wow Francine,
what you've been through! But it's great to hear that things are now looking up and I hope the worst times are all behind you. And we are all here for you, wish you the best, and will do what we can to help. Is your wife a member too? She might find this site useful to help answer all the questions she probably has. I hope I'm not being presumptious by saying that Eileen has some excellent insight and great advice.