What if my wife had never asked to put makeup on me and dress me like a woman?

What If My Wife Had NeveI have a day off today so in the mood for blogging.. Originally booked time off with the kids but neither of them here.. College started a week earlier than expected but not enough free space and time for a day off as Davina.. That would have been a gamble. What if one of them came home early?? That's my frustration for the next few years.. Wasted years!! Frustrating times.. I need to find a way to have my Davina escape..

Yesterday a thought hit me as I was re-reading the CrossdressedUK article aboout me and my wife and the book.. "What would have happened if my wife had not asked to put makeup on me and dressed me as a woman?"

Up to that point it had been tights, knickers, basques, bras, stockings heels.. not makeup, no wig, no dresses just lingerie and loving the look and feel on myself.. Then my wife dressed me "For a laugh" and I saw myself with makeup and I moved if I realised or not along the trans spectrum wanting to see myself like that again and more.. Could I look like a woman?

My wife didn't cause crossdressing but she did push me along a bit to want to present fully ..

I was already a crossdresser long before my wife ever put makeup on my face.

But did that evening change the direction my crossdressing would eventually take?

What if my wife had never asked to put makeup on me and dress me as a woman?

Would I still have become Davina?

Or would I have remained the bloke who occasionally disappeared into the wardrobe, pulled on some hosiery, lingerie and heels, got the little fix I was looking for, and then changed back into everyday male me?

I genuinely don't know.

And the more I think about it, the more fascinating that question becomes.

When we first got together, crossdressing wasn't something I was discussing with her.

In fact, when I was young and falling in love with her, it had almost disappeared from my life.

We were simply two people falling in love and building a life together.

We eventually bought a house.

We had children.

We went on holidays.

We built careers and dealt with all the ordinary pressures of adult life.

And somewhere in the background was this little part of me that had existed since childhood.

The crossdresser.

But at that point, there was no Davina.

Before There Was Davina

For much of my early life, crossdressing was actually very simple.

There was no Davina.

No name.

No wig.

No makeup.

No carefully constructed female appearance.

No persona.

No going out.

No looking in the mirror and thinking I looked like a woman.

It was much more basic than that.

I'd occasionally wear women's clothes.

Hosiery.

Lingerie.

Heels.

I'd squeeze myself into those heels and enjoy the feeling of wearing something completely different from my normal male wardrobe.

And then, after a while, I'd take it all off.

That was it.

There was a sense of getting a “fix” from something that wasn't really available elsewhere in my life.

I've sometimes thought of it as a pie chart.

A little slice of my life was missing.

And lingerie, stockings and heels filled some of that missing slice.

Then normal life took over again.

I wasn't sitting there thinking:

“One day I'm going to become Davina.”

The concept didn't exist.

There was no plan.

No destination.

I wasn't even particularly interested in becoming fully feminine.

I simply liked wearing certain things.

And that was enough.

My Wife Isn't Really a Matching Lingerie, Stockings and Heels Woman

There's another part of this that I've occasionally wondered about.

My wife isn't really a matching lingerie, stockings and heels woman.

Sadly!

That's not a criticism of her. ... Well a bit

But it's simply who she is. Her idea of a wardrobe is different to mine.. Mie would be full of dresses.

She's not particularly interested in the things that I find fascinating about women's clothing.

The matching lingerie.

The stockings.

The heels.

The whole process of putting an outfit together.

And perhaps because those things weren't really part of our relationship, I found my own way of getting that missing slice of the pie.

As I did when younger before I met her.. I wore them myself.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I still do.

It's almost as though the feminine clothing that wasn't naturally present in my everyday life found another route into it.

Through me.

But even then, I don't think I was searching for a female identity.

I was searching for a feeling.

Then Came That Night

And somewhere around 20 years ago, roughly five years into our marriage, my wife did something completely unexpected.

She asked if she could put makeup on me and dress me as a woman.

She didn't know I was a crossdresser.

That's the funny part.

I thought she knew.

She didn't.

She simply thought it might be fun to dress her fairly masculine husband up and see what he looked like.

For me, though, it was potentially the moment everything changed.

For the first time, someone else wasn't just tolerating or discovering the clothes.

My wife was actively transforming me.

She did my makeup.

She did my hair.

I put on the clothes.

And then I saw myself.

Properly.

Not just legs in stockings.

Not just feet in heels.

Not just the feeling of lingerie underneath my normal clothes.

I saw a face.

My face.

But transformed.

And something happened.

A spark.

I wanted to see it again.

My wife and I had already been married for approximately five years when that evening happened.

We had already started building the life that would eventually become 25 years of marriage.

Davina wasn't something that existed from the beginning of our relationship.

She wasn't something my wife knowingly signed up for.

She was something that emerged more fully after we'd already built a life together.

That's why I don't see that night as my wife introducing something alien into our marriage.

The underlying crossdresser was already there.

What changed was the way I experienced it.

And perhaps, more importantly, the way I could imagine experiencing it.

The Mirror Changed Everything

I think the mirror may have been more important than I realised at the time.

Before that night, crossdressing was primarily about the sensation of wearing particular clothes.

After that night, it became increasingly about transformation.

There is a huge difference.

Putting on a pair of stockings gives you a feeling.

Putting on heels gives you a feeling.

Putting on lingerie gives you a feeling.

But seeing your own face transformed by makeup is something else.

Suddenly you aren't just wearing women's clothes.

You're looking at a version of yourself that you haven't seen before.

And then you start wondering:

What would I look like with a wig?

What would I look like with better makeup?

What would I look like in a complete outfit?

Could I actually look feminine?

Could I pass?

One question leads to another.

And suddenly that little slice of the pie chart has become considerably bigger.

Would It Have Happened Anyway?

This is the question I can't answer.

Would I have eventually discovered makeup?

Would I have bought a wig?

Would I have developed a female name?

Would I have created a persona?

Would I have eventually wanted to present fully as a woman?

Or would I have remained exactly where I was?

Occasionally wearing lingerie.

Pulling on stockings.

Squeezing into heels.

Getting that little hit of femininity.

Then returning to everyday life.

Maybe I would have progressed anyway.

Maybe I wouldn't.

Maybe it would have taken another ten or twenty years.

Maybe some completely unrelated event would eventually have opened the same door.

But I will never know.

Because my wife opened it first.

I Don't Think She Created Davina

This distinction matters to me.

I don't believe my wife created Davina.

Davina wasn't suddenly manufactured because my wife put makeup on me.

The ingredients were already there.

The fascination with women's clothing had existed since childhood.

The enjoyment of hosiery was already there.

The lingerie was already there.

The heels were already there.

The desire to experience femininity in some form was already there.

What my wife potentially did was something different.

She showed me what was possible.

She gave me a glimpse of something I hadn't previously considered.

And once I'd seen it, I wanted to explore it.

That's a very different thing from saying she caused it.

The transformation became part of the enjoyment.

And somewhere along that road, Davina appeared.

She needed a name.

She developed a personality.

She developed a look.

She became somebody I could step into.

And eventually, stepping into Davina became about far more than the clothes.

It became an escape from everyday male me.

The Pie Chart Got Bigger

Perhaps my original pie-chart analogy is actually quite useful.

Before that night, the crossdressing part of my life was a relatively small slice.

Women's clothing was something I occasionally used to satisfy a particular need.

After that night, the slice gradually expanded.

Makeup added another piece.

Wigs added another.

Fashion added another.

Learning how to create a feminine face added another.

Developing Davina added another.

Eventually, presenting fully as her became something I genuinely wanted to experience.

And today, when I dress as Davina, it's not simply about putting on lingerie or heels.

It's the whole transformation.

That's a very different experience from the bloke who once squeezed himself into a pair of heels for long enough to get his fix.

What satisfies you at one point in your life may not be what satisfies you later.

Something that starts as curiosity can become a hobby.

A hobby can become a form of expression.

Expression can become transformation.

Transformation can become a persona.

And a persona can become an important part of understanding yourself.

That's certainly what happened to me but I also know I'm at a settled point with my dressing just wishing i had more time and space to dress and to present fully and spend time as Davina .

My wife and I have travelled a long way since that first accidental revelation.

But.. What If That Night Had Never Happened?

Perhaps I would still be exactly the same man.

Comfortable being male.

Married.

Dad.

Working.

Living my life.

And occasionally sneaking into the wardrobe for some lingerie, stockings and heels.

Maybe that would have been enough.

Maybe I'd never have discovered makeup.

Maybe I'd never have bought a wig.

Maybe I'd never have chosen the name Davina.

Maybe I'd never have looked in a mirror and thought:

“I actually look like a woman.”

Maybe I'd never have experienced that strange feeling of stepping away from male me and becoming somebody else for a while.

It doesnt matter now as you know where I ended up from that point..

Davina