Recently I have mentioned here in Cyrsti’s Condo several times about how most of us were forced into extreme measures to protect and hide our gender dysphoria, way before we had any idea what the term even meant. Along the way I mentioned to all of you the lengths I went to hide my feminine cross dressing “stash”. I wasn’t blessed to have supportive parents, so I had to become very creative.
Speaking of non supporting parents, read on and learn of Connie’s problems:
“My hiding place for my “stash” was inside the box springs of my mother’s bed. I had discovered a tear in the bottom cover, and thought it would be the safest place because she would never think to look there. One night, though, while she was watching TV in the family room, I had the urge to retrieve my feminine accouterments to play with later in the night. I was totally surprised when she came into her bedroom and onto her bed. It felt like hours to me, as I hid very quietly under her bed, waiting for a chance to make my escape. Finally, I heard her snore and snuck out of her room. I changed my hiding place right after that, behind a panel I made removable in a basement wall. She eventually discovered that place, though, and I’ve told you the nightmarish story of how she’d laid all my stuff on the kitchen table, for me to see when I came home from school – and then made me load it into the car to take directly to the county dump. :-(“
Wow! Connie’s experience makes me happy my “stash” was never really discovered, to my knowledge. My Dad was very shy in discussing anything which became even remotely sexual in nature, so I often wondered if he discovered my “collection” of hose, women’s undies and makeup in the garage. He may have thought it was a phase.
Over the years though, like so many of us, I went through destructive purges when I decided to rid myself of all of my feminine items and thus live my life in the lie I desperately was trying to live. The process always seemed to work for a day or two before I was thinking about going back to my cross dressing ways.
I wish I could reclaim a portion of the money I wasted on my purging efforts over the years and more importantly, the wasted time and energy I spent on the deception I tried to use to lead my life.