The Crossdresser Who Doesn’t Crossdress
- Davina Legs
- May 9
- 1 min read
There are days—weeks, even months—when I wonder if I still even qualify as a crossdresser.
Not because the desire has faded. Quite the opposite. "Davina" is alive and well within me, quietly humming beneath the surface, aching for opportunity.
But life? Life has other plans.
Lately, I feel like a crossdresser who doesn’t crossdress.
Opportunities have become rare and fleeting, snatched during work-from-home days—only if there are no video calls, only if everyone else is out, only if the planets align. And even then, there’s a rush, a tension, a knowledge that time is ticking and one unexpected knock at the door could end it all.
I can’t even remember the last time I had proper, uninterrupted Davina time.
Not just throwing on a pair of knickers and spritzing perfume under joggers—but real quality time.
Time to shave, to do my makeup slowly, to slip into something nice, to be "Davina" without a clock counting down. That kind of time is a luxury I haven't had in months.
It’s frustrating. It’s disheartening it's frustrating (doubly as I don't feel I can talk about it to anyone either).
Maybe June will bring a window of time when I can exhale and finally get some time albeit working from home again as I know i have a 7 day window. Until then, I remain... the crossdresser who doesn’t crossdress.
Davina
I know what you mean about being a cross dresser who can’t dress. It’s very rare I get the house to myself for long enough so I am not in a constant panic. I then always feel a fraud on sites where others talk about dressing almost full time or without barriers.