The early years My earliest recollections must have been around the age of 8 or 9 years old and I used to rummage in my Mum's wardrobe on a Saturday afternoon while she and Dad were at the local tennis club. She was petite at a mere 5' 1" so most of the time I could find clothes that fitted to some degree. Mum kept a pair of "falsies" hidden way out of site at the top of her side of the wardrobe and I was delighted to discover these which gave me a little bit of shape. Whether I put the stuff back, exactly as I found it, is hazy but no-one ever said anything to me. At school I wasn't exactly earmarked as the school bully and usually went out of my way to avoid any confrontation with my fellow school chums.

Growing Up As a went through my teen years I must admit that any desire to don women's clothes escapes me. Maybe I was just too busy growing up and becoming a normal young man. My first "regular" girlfriend did, however, decide one day to colour-rinse my hair and when we went out that evening she also gave me, protesting, a little eye-liner to, as she put it "enhance your eyes and make them stand out". More than likely, the ever present "peer pressure" from my regular group of friends would have made me try to act macho most of the time and fit in as one of the boys.

Early Married Years My first marriage lasted for 15 years and produced 4 great children and with me working a normal 8am to 5pm day, I think that any thoughts of pursuing my "other self" were squashed. My first wife was also pretty demanding and intolerant and I who have really hated to have to say to her.."errr can I borrow your outfit". She just wasn't the type of woman that could possibily look at life from any other perspective but her own. At the ripe old age of 39, we parted company and after seeing my children alone in a dismal apartment and my 15 year old daughter babysitting a 13month old child whilst her mother was doing the "nightclubs", my nurturing side must have kicked in and the children moved in with Dad for good.

After 40 I became friendly with the Mum of my daughter's best friend and as she had bought a large house in the suburbs, she invited us to share it with her.We had a sometimes platonic, sometimes lover, relationship but the kids grew up healthy. She would, from time to time, go up-country for a few weeks to visit her brother and I seized the opportunity to see if my desire for "slinking around" in a dress was still there. I must admit, I never got to the make-up stage simply because she never wore any!! so it was restricted to prancing around in bra, panties and a simple frock in the dead of night. After a surprise announcment "you must move out" came, we moved into a house, ironically "a stone's throw" away and life continued.

After 45 A little while after we moved, I met another woman (tripped over her at the entrance to the pub actually!!) She was a cronic alcoholic and after multiple AA meetings and some scary hospital emergencies, she died of kidney and liver failure only 8 months later. After the sadness was passed, (we are a pretty sensitive lot you know !) I was left with a wardrobe of clothes that a fashion designer would be proud of. The huge bedroom also had an ensuite and could be effectively sealed from the rest of the family. I could now flip through outfits and try on clothes without any disturbance and now had makeup to play with too! (I won't go into details about the horrific results I achieved!) Her shoe size was a lot smaller than my bulky size 9 but I managed to do some ingenious modifications to some "much too high" heeled slingbacks and could now totter around in them. Even in these late years in life I had no idea why I was doing this stuff ! I just know it felt good and although I more than likely looked horrific, I did feel good inside. We had no internet access at this stage and the desire to actually find out more about what I was doing and why I was doing it never occurred to me.

The middle years We were running a small computer software business from home and then came the internet and the super information highway. My late girlfriend's mother arrive one day to dispose of her daughter's wardrobe, much to my dismay, but I did manage to sneak out my modified pair of shoes and a few outfits before the rest was the basis of a rummage sale. My work as a technician, meant I often had to stay overnight in country hotels and my "overnight bag" always had an outfit in it, some basic makeup and my precious shoes. After dinner at the hotel I could lock myself away in the room and live out my fantasy without any disturbance at all. We had the internet at home, I had every opportunity to see why I had this irresistable urge but for some reason I never questioned myself why I was doing it.