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Hey, lovelies.
Crossdressing isn’t just about clothes for me. It’s about accessing a part of myself that doesn’t always get space in my day-to-day life. I’m not trying to be someone else—I’m trying to feel whole. And for whatever reason, this is the part of me that unlocks that.
When I’m in boy mode, I’m locked into roles. Husband. Dad. Worker bee. There’s a rhythm to it, and sure, it works—but it’s limiting. Everything’s structured and focused on being productive, responsible, masculine. But when I dress femme, that entire frame shifts. It lets me breathe differently, think differently, feel things I usually bury.
Note from Michelle:
This post originally appeared on my old blog, Crossdresser Chronicles. I’ve moved it here because it still reflects an important part of my journey. Some details may be out of date, or lightly updated to fit where I am now.
👉 Read more about why I brought these posts over.
Emotional Disconnect (and Reconnection)
The emotional difference is real. In everyday mode, I go numb without realizing it. I still care, I still try—but there’s this emotional wall I can’t always explain. Crossdressing lets me bypass that. It’s like the part of me that actually feels things gets to step forward.
I don’t need to be fully dressed to access it, either. That’s why I’ve been blending things more—wearing makeup in boy mode, a sports bra under work clothes, even growing out my hair. Little signals to myself that I don’t have to shut this side down just to function in the world.
She’s Not a Persona—She’s Me
I used to think this side of me was a character. Some alter ego I slipped into when I dressed up. But I’ve realized—it’s not an act. She’s just the part of me that’s usually silenced. She’s not imaginary. She’s real. I’m real.
That doesn’t mean I’m free of shame. God, no. Even when something feels true, I still catch myself flinching. I still wonder if I’m faking it. I still feel embarrassed sometimes, even alone. But this isn’t just fantasy. This is how I make space for who I really am.
Creativity, Unlocked
There’s a clear mental shift when I crossdress. I get ideas easier. I feel more open to creative work—writing especially. I don’t have to filter everything through logic and utility. I get to explore. That part of me thrives when I stop forcing everything to be “useful” and just let myself be.
It’s Not Escapism—It’s Survival
I crossdress because I need this. It’s not just a hobby. It’s how I feel alive again. The world has very strict rules for what men are allowed to feel and express. And I don’t fit that. I never have.
So no—I don’t always feel proud of this. Some days I’m ashamed. Some days I wish I could just be “normal.” But this is me. And pretending otherwise never made anything better.
Do you ever feel like you’re two different people? Or like one version of you is always hidden? I’d love to hear how you navigate it.
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