So, Hi! I'm Monique!
Hi Monique.Now that that's out of the way, I just found this place, and I initially wanted to scream at the forums because of the scroll bars in the messages... but the people here are just really, REALLY nice, and I want to be a part of the community. By the way... any way to change the layout so that the messages are flat on the screen, and not constrained by their own scroll bars?
I'm sorry if I'm out of line, just jumping in here and spouting my life story, but I was just reborn (not in a Jesus-centric way, mind you...), and I want to share.
So I'll try to keep it brief. But brevity has NEVER been one of my strong points. You'll see...
I'm 35, and genetically male. I've been that way for, oh, 35 years. I remember consciously beginning to crossdress when I was around 23. When I unlock my memories, I can recall being fascinated by pantyhose as a wee youngin', maybe 7 or so. I think I remember trying on some of my sister's clothes as a young teen. I've lost a lot of brain cells since then, so it'll take some time to concentrate and focus if I really need to answer that.
Anyway, I digress... Like many CD stories I've read over the years, my initial wardrobe came at the expense of others. A "borrowed" bra or panty here and there, and it got tucked away. I'm ashamed now, surely I am. But it's not like I can change it. My name comes from an old friend's old girlfriend. This girl loved me, and I her. Monique was a fantastic friend, who also had a fantastic taste in lingerie. She knew my interests in heels and lingerie and made it a point to show me a garter belt & stocking set she paired with some 5" stilettos one night before the group of us went out. I'm sad to say, those stockings and that belt eventually became part of my collection. I mean, I was in my glory at the time, but I hate the thievery I succumbed to. Monique had a tiny apartment that I often spent time at, being that I usually drove her boyfriend there. Something about that stupid place haunted me for years... when she gave us the tour of the tiny place, she pointed out the bathroom, with an odd, jutting "shelf" in the shower, and joked about it being perfect for shaving her legs. (This actually becomes relevant later, trust me.) Monique eventually broke up with my friend. Fast forward a few years...
I bought my first pair of shoes in a Payless in a REALLY bad neighborhood, many miles from my home. My hands shook as I tried on a pair of size 11's with a 3.5" heel, jammed my foot in them, ran to the counter and screamed, "HALLOWEEN COSTUME, YA KNOW?!" and threw them at the sales girl. I believe the entire transaction, from parking my car to speeding out of the parking lot, may have taken all of seven minutes. Size 11 was, in retrospect, WAY too small. Everything else worked for me though - I was always a slim guy, and the early 90's, Alternative Rock was the scene, so my long hair and pierced ears were a natural fit when I decided to start dressing. I had the benefit of a teenage female cousin staying in my parent's house, so I was able to squeeze into her Catholic school girl skirts and cheerleader uniforms (could you ASK for more fetish convenience?!) and dress in the comfort of my basement room.
Months later... the first purge. The shoes were whipped out the car window into the Meadowlands at 70 MPH, and I cursed and hated myself.
Years later, in finally was in my own place, an apartment shared with friends, while sometimes wrestling with my sexuality. Was I straight? Sure I was... I had tail nearly every night. Was I gay? No, I was nearly androgenous (chicks dig long haired, androgenous guys), and had the occassional odd relationship with a plastic banana. I'll spare you all the details.
Another Halloween rolls around - another pair of shoes were bought at another Payless in another bad part of another town. If you hadn't guessed, I REALLY like high heels. The boots that I bought were also, too small, hastily purchased, and tucked away for random nights when everyone left the apartment. These boots, and my crossdressing, didn't see much action.
Months later, my lease was up, and I got an offer to get my own apartment. My own, solo, nobody sharing the house with me, apartment. Thing is? It was Monique's old apartment. When I moved in, I don't think I was in there an entire week before I tried out the leg-shaving shelf for the first time. I shaved my body bare, fantasizing about how she might have done it at one time. I loved this girl. I truly did. And I suddenly understood, I wanted to be this girl. Monique2k was born at that moment.
So, I had my too-small heels, which I was reluctant to wear because of the fear that the people below me might hear the tell-tale click-clack of stilettos, and in the off-chance they saw me come home alone, I'd have been outed! GASP! But I got brave with my new found freedom. I bought a few pieces of clothes; a skirt, a bodysuit, some pantyhose, and eventually, I bought some enhancers from HanesOnePlace.com. Life was great! I was free, I was a closeted crossdresser! I was (now that I look back on it) incredibly kinky and marginally gay (or at least bi-), what with my gigantic vibrator I purchased one drunken night in NYC. And a month later, I met the woman who would eventually become my wife...
She moved in, and I went into denial again. I purged. I threw it all out and told myself, "NO MORE!" And I behaved for a couple years. Eventually, I tried on her skirts. Then her business suits. And her bridal lingere. And her shoes, which DEFINITELY didn't fit. Funny thing is, despite my fetish for heels, the girl never wore good ones, and if a heel happened to be higher than two inches, it was chunky.
"They're uncomfortable... you just don't understand!" Oh really? We moved, and a year or so later, I bought the first pair of heels that ever really fit me from EBay. Size 12's, 5.5" patent stilettos. They came, and I hid them in the rafters in my basement, only to be worn on the rarest of occassions. I was married now, and I couldn't dare tell the light of my life that I was a crossdresser. So, it was buried, except for a few moments a month when she'd be out of the house for long periods of time. Usually, they were Shoes For Laying On The Couch By Myself. I eventually got crazy and bought a similar pair from the same guy, this time in white patent . More Couch-Shoes. But I got some practice in walking in extreme heels, and I found it funnier now when she'd complain about trying to walk in her 2" chunky heels.
And............... I purged. But not before I took some leg shots and put them on a Yahoo profile, which I got LOTS of compliments for. Once again, I found my wardrobe of shoes, another vibrator (how'd that get in there?!), and too little time to play. So, it all went into the garbage. All of it.
A year or so later, I ordered another pair of the same damn black stilettos from the same guy on EBay. They hid in the garage, and would come out for a quick play session, then get tucked away. Months later... I purged. AGAIN!
That was the last time. My wife and I split up recently, for reasons unrelated to this. She still doesn't know. And when she said she needed her summer clothes from my basement, I went through and tried on the things I wanted to keep, versus the things I was going to give to her. Hell, I bought them all at one time or another! It wasn't stealing!
For about the past two months, Monique's come to exist again, once my toddler goes to bed. In a nice change, I'm accepting it. It's not about dressing, gratifying myself, and ripping the clothes off in horror. These days, I find myself more and more, dressing, then going about my nightly chores. There's something intimately satisfying for me in doing the dishes, vacuuming, laundry, etc, in my heels, a skirt, and pantyhose. I could probably pass if I wanted to. I'm sure eventually I will, but for now, much of my personal time belongs to Monique.
Happily, everything I'm wearing right now is all my own. I'm getting better about going to a store and perusing the women's racks to buy what I want. I'll throw on the ol' wedding band to help diffuse the questions, and it's a nice feeling coming to grips with my lives. Those frilly and sexy nightgowns she had (but never wanted to wear) have found a new home. Since I'm not a slave to the fetish anymore, and I'm becoming more accepting of who I am, I can comfortably wear this stuff to bed, and wake up happy. I don't know if I'll ever come out. I don't know if I'll ever act on my bi-tendencies. But for now, I'm almost happy in my own skin. I have a couple people in mind, male and female, who I might eventually come out to, but that's its own long, drawn out argument.
For anyone who's married and thinks you can bury these feelings forever... I wish I could tell you it's possible. For me, it wasn't. Those old feelings, after you bury them with hate and disgust, will eventually surface again. If you have the opportunity to be honest; you really should take it. Be honest to your partner, and be honest to youself. It didn't ruin my marriage, mostly because I was extremely discreet; and if it ever appears it will ruin my life as a father, I will gladly bury it again.
My divorce opened a great door for me. I'm sure I could have lived my entire life, finding the little extra bit of happiness when she was out of town or something, but now I have freedom (albeit, somewhat limited). The feelings I feel now... they were always there, but they were buried under guilt and fear. Now, I can embrace them, and I'm happy. I'm truly happy, and that's why I wanted to write this. I have nobody to share this happiness with. I'm sure that there's someone out there who'll say, "Wow, I'm not the only one who's felt this way!"
Just... if you're starting out, or you're thinking about starting out, and you think you're the only one who feels this way... you're not. This was a long, probably boring e-mail. But if I can help answer any questions, if my story is like yours, or if you can kind of relate, but just need a soul to talk to, send me an e-mail. I know for a fact how much it sucks to feel alone. And that why I just bored the hell out of all of you for the past 15 minutes it took you to read this.
-- Monique
ps: By the way, my fourth pair of size 12 patent 5.5" stilettos from the same EBay seller are due to be delivered any day.
I should get some kind of frequent shopper discount at this point....
