Never Alone

Hannah McKnight discusses howwe all learn about who we are:

I never, EVER thought there was something “wrong” with me or with wanting to wear lingerie and dresses, but I knew that this was a side that should be a secret. It wasn’t easy to keep it hidden, however. When I was younger it wasn’t easy trying on my sister’s dresses without arousing suspicion. No matter how carefully I hung things back up I was always paranoid that someone would figure it out. Not only was there a chance I would be caught and someone would know, part of me wanted to tell someone. Why? Well, it was fun. It still is.

The day I learned the word ‘crossdresser’ was the day I knew that I wasn’t alone. When I was around twelve years old a friend told me she saw an episode of a talk show about crossdressers. I asked her what a crossdresser was and she told me it was a man who wore women’s clothes. I can’t tell you how significant of a moment that was. I wasn’t alone. There was a word for people like me. It was… affirming, it was reassuring. It was a word I could use to describe who I was, and who I am.

When I was a little older and into my teen years, I found an issue of Cosmopolitan my mom had. It wasn’t hidden or anything, just another magazine along with the tabloids in our living room. If I remember correctly, there was an advice column in the issue where a woman wrote in asking a question about her husband. She described how they were invited to a party for charity where husbands and wives dressed as each other. She went on to describe how this… awakened something in him and from then on he wore a lot of her clothes. She went on to say when he returned home from work he would put on one of her dresses and soon had his own. He adopted a femme name, too. Overall the letter was very positive, they both seemed to enjoy and be comfortable with this new aspect of their relationship.

The advice columnist went on to reassure the letter writer that there was nothing wrong or weird about this couple. He was a crossdresser and she was a supportive wife. He wasn’t the first crossdresser, or the only one, and he certainly wasn’t the last. Again, I wasn’t alone.

And neither are you. I am guessing we all have moments like these growing up that told us we weren’t the only ones who wore, or wanted to wear, heels, skirts, makeup, and lingerie. But if somehow you grew up never experiencing anything like this, let me reassure you are not alone. I am like you.