As a crossdresser, it is always nice to meet other crossdressers, especially given that other non-crossdressers you may end up hanging out with might not be fully into your thing if you know what I mean. Generally this would happen meeting someone online, establishing a little rapport about our tights and favorite girly items we like to wear and then may even end up exchanging numbers. Nothing really out of the ordinary unless you count that crossdressing thing.
Now, if things get a little flirty or (I dare say) romantic, then I can get into that too. However, I would also note that this is in the perspective of female me and not my usual male self. An important distinction because they are in fact quite different.
First of all, there is that whole establishing a “connection” thing. Sure we are crossdressers and obviously have that in common. Maybe we have fallen in love from that avatar picture in the profile and think the other is the hottest thing on earth since… actual women. OK, these are really men, dressed as women who no longer have that traditional male/female division to overcome in order to interact and maybe hook up if that is desired.
Well, it doesn’t quite work that way.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I did learn that the hard way with actual women a long time ago. Reversing that role though makes it all the more apparent. For miss me, it is downright scary some of the creepy crossdressers I have stumbled upon online. One in particular complained I never responded to her online, so I said sorry and gave her my number (side note… not a good idea). Then the messages started pouring in…
Hi my little bonbon…
What do you do for a living?
Where do you live?
Are you a lesbian?
I didn’t even respond, just blocked her in every way possible on my phone. She definitely got the message and never contacted me again and no real incident ever occurred out of it. Yet this really did creep me out but not to a point where I was fearful, just hopeful that I would never actually meet this “weird” crossdresser in person, ever. It made me glad I am actually a man because, if I did ever see her in person, I would gladly kick the you-know-what out of her.
Of course this was also a realization of what real women have to go through when interacting with men, or possibly even the occasional closeted crossdresser man. Let’s face it, men are creeps. Not all of them of course but a portion of them. And, unfortunately, some of those creepy guys may happen to be crossdressers too. I resent the fact that these creeps give crossdressers a bad rap because we are sweet loving little darlings with a feminine side that endear us. OK for the most part anyway.
So, if there is a lesson learned out of all of this, please don’t be a fucking creep, even if you are a weird crossdresser (like I am).
Because I am a man, too, and I’m all out of bubble gum.