The Great escape him in one mirror her in another so far apart from eachother

Led in bed in the mood to reflect.... 3 blogs knocked up in 5 minds things on my mind. It’s mad when I think about it. Looking in the mirror at male me I mean.

I look at myself in the mirror—stubble, not as fit as I once was, definitely not as slim as I’d like to be.

Just an ordinary man, edging into middle age.

The kind of man people pass in the street without a second glance.

There are days I barely recognise myself anymore thinking back to how fit I used to be which I blame on work and being such a workaholic.. I keep telling myself I need to change that work less hours and look after myself more.. I really do need to do that and I will.

But then I’m home alone.

Suddenly, things change.

My wife made plans in November l'll be home alone and have earmarked it in my diary as a possible Davina day.

The stubble will be shaved away. I'll slip into control lingerie that smooths and shapes, stockings that cling to my legs, heels that lift my posture and add a sense of poise making my legs look sexy.. . A nice dress hugging my frame in just the right way.

Then comes the magic: foundation, lashes, eyeshadow, blush, lipstick—each step bringing a new version of me to life.

Finally, the wig goes on, and she appears.

Davina.

And she’s completely unrecognisable—not just to the outside world, but even to me when I look at my photo.. How is that me??

That’s part of the thrill.

She’s attractive, confident, composed.

She’s the opposite of the tired, stubbly bloke I saw in the mirror just now..

And in that transformation, there’s a deep kind of escape.

It’s not just about the clothes or the presentation—it’s the shift in energy, the relief from the expectations that come with being “him.” I step out of the role of husband, father, provider, and into something softer, calmer, more free.

Davina or cross dressing and looking like that for a few hours is my sanctuary.

She lets me be someone who doesn’t carry the world on her shoulders for a few hours.

So yes, part of why I crossdress is to look different—feminine, attractive, and completely not me.

But more than that, it’s about how that shift makes me feel.

I’m not trying to be someone I’m not.

That leggy blonde is a part of me that softer escape who enjoys makeup and dresses as much as she enjoys football and other sports.

My great escape

Davina