After trying on his mothers underwear and being screamed at by his father, he knew that a boy wanting to be a girl was a horrible thing. He knew at the tender age of six he must bottle it up and never speak of it.

One day his mother and her friend were getting him and his brothers dressed and he heard his brother screaming.

"No,no, there girls. They have a rose on them."

His mother was trying to dress his older brother in a pair of plain with girls knickers. She cut the flower off the waistband and tried again. His brother refused. Her friend tried with him. He ached to wear them, but knew his brother would never let him forget it. So he started the pattern of behavior of that would haunt him and remind him of "what if" possibilities later in life.

Year later he asked his mother and she said that girls knickers were cheaper than boys pants?

Growing up he was always jealous of the girl's pretty clothes and the attention they got. They teachers called girls by their first name, but boys were called by their surname. Girl's could keep their hats on in church, whereas boys had to remove theirs. You had to give your seat up to a women or a girl on a bus. Girls were different , better. He played with the boys and sometimes girls from his flat, but always tried to play with the girls if he could.

At twelve years old while staying with his widowed grandmother, they were both soaked on a trip to the shops. She told him to strip his clothes off and he shivered under a blanket. She asked him if he wanted to wear a pair of his dead grandfather's underwear. He refused, then she asked if he would wear some of hers. He of course felt he had to refuse. Another what if to add to the what if pile.

Growing up in a small north London flat there was little chance of privacy. As grew he would borrow his mum's underwear from the airing cupboard and snatch a few moments of happiness in the locked bathroom. Nothing sexual at that age.

As he grew he found out what women looked like between their legs he made what he later would learn was a gaff. It was made entirely from elastic bands. It was painful but when he wore it, it pulled his penis back between his legs and he looked smooth down there.

At twelve years old he was involved in a car accident while riding his bike. Although painful he was grateful as he was due to be circumcised as he returned to school and did not want to explain to his friends why he was in hospital.

He hoped they would slip and accidentally cut it off during the operation. It never happened.

After the operation his small inoffensive "willy" expanded to almost adult proportions .He hated it. The only saving grace was the positive comments from his peers in the changing room, spread among some of the girls. Although he was too painfully shy to ask any out.

His father had a signature stamp he used for processing his paperwork. He had an idea. He could have time off school sick, write his own sick note and use the stamp to sign it. As his mother worked from 9.30 AM to 3PM , he would have the house to himself.

It started with just wearing the underwear. Then grew to include a blouse and skirt. At fourteen his legs were still relatively smooth. They looked really good in his mothers chocolate coloured tights. He added a scarf and a little lipstick and decided to go out. Later in life he would never take such a chance, but at fourteen you don't think of all the ways you can get caught.

Living at the top floor of a four story block in meant he would have to walk down four flights of stairs past everyone's front door. He got away with this and managed to walk down the street in his mothers cork wedge sandals. He had the idea of walking about a mile to a local park then return home.

He walked without incident to the park, but due to the tension, desperately needed the toilet. So he decided to brave the ladies toilet. As he came out a kindly old lady ask him if he was alright. Did she know? He walked away quickly.

These trips became a regular thing for a a few months. He must have done this five of six times. On the last trip as he climbed the stairs he saw a school friend waiting near his front door. Time stopped. Stupid ideas of what to say went through his head. Instead he just pushed past and opened then quickly slammed the front door..

A few days later he told his friend that while he was "bunking off" his aunt came into the flat and he had to hide in the cupboard for an hour. His friend said he was on the stairs and a woman went by him. Had he really gotten away with it? The scarf did cover a lot of his head.

At the age of fifteen he was working three jobs and had very little opportunity to crossdress.

He left school and became a apprentice electrician. He had always enjoyed playing with electrical things and did well. Still every time he was at home alone he would dress in his mothers clothes.

In his late teens he started dating and urged his girlfriends to wear sexy underwear. If he could not wear it he could touch it on their soft womanly bodies. He lived his femininity through theirs. At a party the hostess asked him if she could dress him as a woman to fool a friend of hers. As he was meant to be meeting a girl their he refused. One of the biggest what if moments of regret.

He eventually met the woman who he was to marry. She told him once that she would wear stockings for him if he beat her at darts. If she won he would have to. Of course he lost. They would play with his crossdressing often and he was happy. If he could not be a woman, he could dress and have sex with one. It was an acceptable compromise.

Almost as soon as they married she expressed a dislike for his crossdressing. Even the sex stopped. She was only interested when she wanted another child. He had always been the happy cheerful, reliable type, so all of the frustration was kept bottled up. He had a wife and child to support. That should be enough for any man.

In a moment of stupidity he decided he would take her birth control pills to spite her. He took two a day for months. He noticed fat deposit on his breasts had increased. He cold still get hard but it took longer. This gave him a thrill to know next time she wanted a child she would have to work harder to get one. A stupid thing to do he realised later in his life.

Sometimes she would go out on coach trips with the children and her parents. he always made an excuse about having to work. These were opportunities to dress. Parking on the almost deserted top floor of a multistory car park he would pull on a skirt and high heel boots. The underwear would already be on under his male clothes. The moment he felt the skirt touch his legs he felt calm.

His long hair brushed into a feminine style and with a little makeup he looked convincing. Walking around the north London shopping center felt so right he wished it could last forever. Why was it so unfair? Why was this so wrong. He wasn't hurting anyone. It was his body. No, he knew the emotional and financial fallout would be devastating. He had a family and a mortgage. He was a man after all.

That's the way his life went. An almost sexless marriage and a deep longing to be, or at least live as a woman. Now in his fifties, he takes short breaks on his own. These are just opportunities to explore the life he wishes he had. He experimented with meeting men through contact sites. The intimacy is often welcome, but the real need is for being seen and treated as a women.

He is realistic, he knows if he braved the fallout now, that their is no guarantee he would be happy. So he does what he has always done. Just what electricity does, takes the path of least resistance. Often regretting the girl he never was.