By Starla Renee TrimmDo you remember the first time you crossdressed? The first time you furtively slipped on some nylons or a dress or a bra or heels?
Oddly enough, I don't.
I feel like I must be the odd gurl out on this. Countless others over the years have described that first time to me. But I think and think and rummage through the cobwebbed corners of my brain and I got nothin'.
I grew up in New Jersey and my family moved to Florida in 1970 when I was 12. And honestly, I cannot recall a single instance of crossdressing before we made the move.
Thought about it, sure. Browsed the Sears catalog looking at the pictures of smartly-attired lady models and wondered what it was like to dress like that, certainly. Watched stylish actresses on TV and fantasized about wearing that dress or having that hairdo, yes… and often.
But I cannot recall ever actually putting on an article of female clothing until we moved to the Sunshine State. Even then, the memory banks are murky. I know that by the time we had been there for several months, I was regularly "borrowing" my mother's things. (And ashamed to admit, shoplifting wigs to wear – a nasty habit that I regret with shame to this day, yet I am also quite glad I was never caught.)
But I have no recollection of when, why and how I first slipped on her nightie or tried on her bras. Not any memory of anything that might have triggered the shift from fantasizing to femulating. Was it something I read or saw on TV? Or maybe just the fact that I was now old enough to be trusted to spend a few hours home alone giving me a relatively safe window to experiment? I have no idea.
The mind can play tricks on us in regards to memories. Things can be erased from conscious memory due to trauma and false memories can seem very real.
An example of the latter that has nothing to do with crossdressing. I still harbor a vivid memory of reading a magazine article about the Kent State shootings while laying on my bed at my grandparents' cottage in Vermont where I spent my summers growing up. But we never returned to Vermont after the move to Florida in the Spring of 1970 and the Kent State tragedy occurred in May of that year. In fact, 1969 was the last summer we spent in Vermont. Yet I have the strong, legitimate memory of watching the first moon landing that July on my grandmother's ancient DuMont black-and-white television complete with the dead fly permanently stuck between the picture tube and its protective cover.
So, it is impossible for me to have been reading about Kent State in Vermont. As much as my intellect accepts that reality, the false memory persists to this day.
As for trauma and lost memories, maybe I did crossdress in New Jersey and was caught. And the experience was traumatic enough for my brain to hit the erase button.
I don't think so. Because I
do remember the first time I was caught in Florida and it was very traumatic. But I still have the memory.
So anyway, how about you? Do you remember your first time? Or are your early memories of femulating lost to the ages like a wiped videotape? Are there more of the former or latter among us?
I'll let y'all figure it out. Right now, thinking about all this, my head hurts.
![Source: Rent the Runway]( "Wearing Trina Turk (Source: Rent the Runway)") |
| Wearing Trina Turk (Source: Rent the Runway) |
![Jannik Schümann]( "Jannik Schümann femulated in the 2015 German film Mein Sohn Helen (My Son Helen).") |
| Jannik Schümann femulated in the 2015 German film Mein Sohn Helen (My Son Helen). |
