hen people hear the word crossdressing, too often their first thought is sex. There’s a deeply rooted misconception that dressing as the opposite gender must be a fetish, a kink, or something purely sexual.

For many of us, this couldn't be further from the truth.

Let’s be honest, though—yes, for many crossdressers, the early experiences were entangled with arousal. That was true for me too.

The first time I slipped into women’s clothing, I felt something powerful: arousal, fascination, curiosity, excitement.

That first flutter of pleasure was undeniable and unforgettable. Was it sexual? Partly. Was it deeper than that? Absolutely.

As I’ve grown with Davina, what began with those charged moments of discovery has matured into something layered and meaningful.

Today, being Davina is much more about how I feel. It’s the thrill of transformation, the softness of satin against skin, the comforting scent of perfume, the graceful sway of a dress, the click of heels, and most of all—the shift in energy.

As Davina, I feel confident, feminine, even beautiful. I feel me.

And yet, arousal still lingers. I won’t lie.

When I see myself in the mirror, fully transformed, sometimes I’m surprised by how attractive I look. I feel sexy. It doesn’t define Davina, but it’s a part of her experience. This is not perversion—it’s self-affirmation.

There’s a term, autogynephilia, that often gets tossed around to shame people who are turned on by the idea of themselves as a woman. It’s a term that’s been debated and criticized even by psychologists. For many of us, it simply doesn’t fit. It tries to reduce something multifaceted and deeply personal into a label that often brings shame.

The truth is, crossdressing can be sensual without being purely sexual. It can be affirming without being perverted. It can be empowering and relaxing and fun—and yes, sometimes arousing too.

We’re all human. Feeling good in your own skin, in your chosen clothes, should never be cause for guilt.

To anyone reading this who has felt that mix of sensuality and identity, you’re not alone—and you’re not broken. The desire to feel beautiful, sexy, or confident doesn’t belong to one gender or one expression of it.

If crossdressing helps you access those parts of yourself, embrace them.

Because for me? Davina isn’t just a look. She’s a feeling, an escape, a softness I rarely get to show—and yes, sometimes she’s sexy, and that’s okay.

Davina

Prompt for readers:

"How do you relate to the sensual or emotional side of your crossdressing experience?"

"Has your connection with your femme self changed over time?"