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Food For Thought As I Enter my Mid 50s
I identify as being a crossdresser, and many people I know assume my marriage would almost certainly break up the day my wife found her husband in her female clothes ( Fortunately she gives me some latitude) However, I,ve learnt that cross-dressing is grounded in a highly logical and universal desire: the wish to be, for a time, the gender one admires, is excited by – and perhaps loves. Dressing like a woman is merely a dramatic, yet essentially reasonable, way of getting closer to the experiences of the sex one is profoundly curious about – and yet has been (somewhat arbitrarily) barred from.
For most like me, cross-dressing is just an extension of my inner self that wants to experience other areas of life, and there think nothing of it. As I enter into my mid 50s I find crossdressing or transvestism is a way of tapping into my birthright of universal citizenship: it’s the most dramatic protest against being imaginatively bounded by the particular gender-province I happen to have been born into.
It may of course be a bit disturbing to sense that one is really not so firmly anchored to the gender one was born into. It may be bewildering to have to accept that one is at heart, in the semi-conscious mind, always going to be something far more diverse, multi-faceted but also perhaps interesting than a mere ‘man’ or a ‘woman’.