Becky's World

Here is a short bio of my road to acceptance.

My name is Becky Lynn Anderson and I have recently come out to my wife in quite an involuntary way, she unexpectedly discovered Becky. Whew! That day was intense!

Before I begin my 'story' perhaps a few statistics might be in order. I am 56 years old and measure in at 6'-0" in height. For most of my adult years I have weighed 196 pounds but in recent months I have been trying to lose weight and I think I have finally gotten the hang of it. I'm down to 174 and my goal is 165 pounds. I am happily married with one daughter who has given me two beautiful grandsons.

Like most of you I have been crossdressing since a very early age. I have spotty memories of playing with some of my mothers clothes and shoes when I was around 4 years old. But I think at that age playing was probably what I was doing. My first experience being dressed completely as a girl came when I was 8 years old. My mother wanted to dress me up as a girl for Halloween. I didn’t want to do it but she told me it was the only costume that she had time to put together for me. I really wanted to go out trick or treating with the rest of the kids so I did it. When the night was over, strangely enough, I felt comfortable being dressed that way, although I didn’t know why. We were always taught that boys are boys and girls are girls but, for some reason, it was fun looking like a girl. I was a boy, why would I like feeling and looking like a girl? I didn’t know. Even after Halloween was over I wished I could dress that way again. For years I was so confused and didn’t know what to do about it, but each Halloween I would still get dressed up as a girl, partly at my mother’s prodding and partly of my own desire.

At eleven or twelve years old I started intercepting clothes that were destined to be thrown out and hid them away under my mattress. Shortly after I started hiding the old clothes my mother found them and told my father. He came to school that day, pulled me out of school and took me home. All the way home I kept asking what was wrong but he didn’t say a word, he just looked mad. When we got home they showed me the clothes and asked me what I was doing with them. I looked at my mother and told her I don’t know why but I like to wear them when no one is around. She gave me a look that could kill. I was confused since she encouraged me in the past to dress like a girl for Halloween. My father went through the roof. Screaming, he used every obscenity in the book on me and beat me with his belt until I couldn’t walk. I learned quickly and painfully that this was something he didn’t approved of. The strange thing is that my parents never tried to get any help for me. I guess my father thought the belt was a much better cure than any doctor could offer. It wasn’t. For months after that I had no thoughts of dressing up. But then they started to slowly return. I tried to fight them off knowing what would happen if I got caught but it was in vain. Slowly I began to secretly dress again. I could not suppress an inner drive to do this and I became very good at hiding things.

Throughout my teen years dressing up became more and more regular, but always in secret. Still, I liked doing all the things that guys did, sports, fishing, swimming, climbing trees, playing war and, later, dating yet I still had this need to dress up. Confusion ruled my life with nowhere to turn. Going through puberty was pure hell. I had no one to talk to about these feelings, these needs. If I would have tried to talk to my parents about them I would have been beaten to hell again. It would not be until my fifties that I began to get an inkling of what was going on.

During my late teen years I went into the military and I managed to suppress thoughts of dressing. I did my time and on my way out of the military I met and instantly fell in love with wife. I knew from the moment I met her that we belonged together and I wanted us to be together for the rest of our lives. Since I wasn’t able to get medical help or understand what this other side of me was all about I really believed that, with her love, (and if we eventually got married) my need to wear women’s clothes would vanish forever. I tried to tell her when we were dating but I was too afraid of losing her and I really did believe it would disappear. For a while after we married this was true. I thought that I was finally cured. I was wrong. As when I was younger, the thoughts began to slowly creep back into my mind and I tried desperately to fight them off. I couldn’t believe that this was happening again. I just didn’t understand.

Now I was really caught between a rock and a hard place. I didn’t know what to do. I thought of confessing to her but I couldn’t stand the thought of what would happen if she reacted like my parents did when I was younger. I loved her with all my heart. I thought of how I was beaten until I couldn’t walk. I thought of how devastated I would be if our marriage were to end. I felt guilty and ashamed by something I absolutely could not control. I didn’t want to lose her and our families so I kept the secret.

Over the years I purchased articles of clothing and shoes and kept a stash. I prayed that my wife would never find them. There were several times when I came really close to being caught by her and I felt like I was going to die. In fact, I had wished exactly that several times in my life. As a result I would purge everything I had hoping this would put an end to dressing up. The need always returned later and I’d get new clothes and keep another stash. It was like an endless cycle.

When the Internet came along I was finally able to find a lot of information on crossdressing. I was extremely surprised to find that I was far from being alone in my "closet." There are millions of heterosexual men in this country alone, from laborers and cops to bank presidents, doctors and congressmen, who crossdress. Although doctors still do not know the root cause of crossdressing, it is no longer considered a mental disease. General research and consensus shows that it is something you are born with and/or brought up with. The fact is, it is considered within the bounds of normal behavior. Therapists treat it by encouraging individuals and/or couples to accept it.

Even though I don’t fully understand this need to dress as a woman I do know that having a feminine side has allowed me to appreciate true beauty in life and to be a gentler, more caring individual so completely different from the environment in which I was raised. Throughout my life I have worked hard and trained myself to present an 'over-macho' attitude and appearance to mask this feminine side. An unfortunate side effect of this has been the inability to openly express my truest of feelings to my wife. And by that I mean there have been many times in the past where I could and should have been more caring or sympathetic or understanding or may have wanted to cry but my self-induced macho training kept me from doing so. Out of fear, embarrassment, shame and rejection I absolutely could not let anyone know about my feminine side.

Well here I am in my mid 50's and "the cat is now out of the bag!" Several months ago my wife was supposed to make another stop after work one day but decided to come home instead and caught me dressed in my finest. The next few hours were pure emotional hell for both of us. There was screaming, crying and name calling. After the shouting quieted down there were a few questions. Are you gay? Do you want to be a woman? Most of the questions were an echo of what most GG's ask when they find out for the first time.

Believe it or not I was planning on telling her in a few weeks anyway. I had it all planned. On my birthday I was going to give her a letter that had taken me months to write. I had material from sites such as yours and several good books on the subject of crossdressing. Needless to say it was all for naught.

After the first 24 hours things quieted down considerably and we were able to talk, in a very limited fashion, about my other side. I didn't want to upset the apple cart anymore than it was already so I didn't push anything on her, I more or less let her take the lead. I told her how of long I've been dressing and how often. I told her of how I like to look, feel and smell like a woman. This really threw her for a loop. She kept asking me how I could do that and not want to be a woman. I tried explaining to her that I really had no control over my need to dress this way. I told her of how common crossdressing was. She wasn't interested in statistics or in what other people were doing. I told her of the studies that were done and that crossdressing isn't even considered abnormal by the therapists. They treat crossdressing by trying to get the CD and/or SO to accept it. Again she wasn't interested.

I offered to take her to reputable web sites and forums with good solid information and conversation. I suggested we see a therapist. She kept saying that she had to deal with this in her own way. I couldn't understand how she would be able to deal with something if she has no knowledge of what it was she was trying to deal with.

Although we've talked about it several more times, she still hasn't come forward for any information. I will say this though she has given me very limited space. She knows I dress when she is not home and she will call before coming home. She knows I order clothes from online sources that are delivered UPS and she doesn't seem to mind. She doesn't know that, when I have enough time, I completely dress with makeup and wig and even take a few pictures.

Given the short time since her discovery I think this very small space she has given me is progress. It's not what I had hoped it would be but is, nonetheless, progress. Who knows, perhaps in time there will be more.

I love her with all my heart and she knows that and I desperately long for her to ask, "when can I meet Becky?" I honestly don't know if that question will ever be asked but I can tell you if that moment ever comes it will be the high point of my life. Her acceptance of all of me is all I could ever hope for.

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