People often assume crossdressing is about attention, sex, or rebellion. For me, it’s quieter than that — and deeper.

Sometimes, I dress to escape who I am.

Not because I hate my life… but because life as a man can be heavy. Responsibility stacks up. Strength becomes expected. Vulnerability becomes optional. The pressure to always be solid, controlled, dependable never really lets up.

And when it gets too loud in my head, Davina is where I go to breathe and hot a reset.

Davina is softer. She’s lighter. She moves in a world where I’m not constantly braced for impact.

When I become her, I’m not pretending — but I am stepping away from strain.

It’s rest for my mind, not a rejection of my life.

At the same time, Davina isn’t just escape.

She’s also expression.

She carries parts of me that the male version doesn’t get to show easily — emotional openness, desire to be seen, playfulness, beauty, vulnerability without consequence.

And she has her own identity.

Which brings me to sexuality and pronouns.

As a man, I’m heterosexual. I’m grounded in that, comfortable with it, and not confused by it. My pronouns are he/him — and I’m not precious about words. Call me whatever, it doesn’t bruise my ego.

But when Davina is present, things shift.

She doesn’t experience herself as “straight”. That word ties her existence to male attention — and Davina is not built for the male gaze.

Davina is drawn to women. Emotionally. Physically. Energetically.

So she is a lesbian — not for politics, not for performance, but because that’s the truth of her attraction and her independence. She isn’t here to be desired by men. She desires women.

And when she’s here, her pronouns are she/her — not because it’s demanded, but because it fits. Because in that moment, the language finally matches the energy inside.

This isn’t about confusion.

It’s about duality.

One life holds responsibility and rigidity. The other holds fluidity and freedom.

Both are real. Both are me.

Crossdressing, for me, is a doorway. Sometimes into rest. Sometimes into truth. Sometimes into desire. Sometimes into relief.

I don’t crossdress because something is broken. I crossdress because something inside me needs room to breathe.

And Davina gives it that room.

This isn’t about choosing who I am. It’s about allowing all of me to exist.

Davina