Biography
How do a Crossdresser born
As I lay down on the docto's couch, he would say to me: "Tell me everything, from the beginning..."
Well, the first recollection I have of my crossdressing comes from my childhood. I remember that at 5 or 7 years I was already trying on my olders sister's panties. Everything very well hidden and camouflaged. I always tried to keep her lingere and clothes in the same way they were before, wich was an incredible memory exercise...
The time was passing by, and I started to live out the conventional life of most people, fighting always more and more against Betina, but every day she showed a new face. I remember that when I was 14, I started to shave in order to force my beard to grow, wich never been full. I was fighting Betina off!
I had a very difficult upbringing. My father qas a hard Spanish catholic man from the army. He had many prejudices. I seffered a lot psychologically because of his malicious comments over general homosexuality.
In my adolescence, when I dressed in my sister's panties, the pleasure of it was so great, that I used to have an orgasm just by looking at myself in front of the mirror... Then came the guilt trips: "why did I do this? My God, I'm a man! Am I sick or a sissy?" I asked myself this because while I always loved women as a species, I knew the world didn't accepted this way of showing it. I was completely in love with girls and femininity in general, and I knew that... Then in puberty I found out that I loved women so much, that I wanted to feel they telt - at least this was the most acceptabel excuse that I found for myself.
When I started to work, on 16, I put together my first suitcase of lingerie. But its end was at the botton of a river over here, in Sao Paulo, in an impulse of "macho" virility. Let me explain: when I was more or less 20 years old I met a German girl and fell in love like crazy with her. She was my third big love. So I decided to "put away this life" and to be a real man. I got into my car with my little case and drove to the river side. I stopped the car, crossed the highway and dropped the case into the river... I felt myself greatly relieved, however, this good feeling was not to last...
In 1995, when I was 26, I went to live with this same girl in Germany and I spent a couple months without my feminine side being manifest. But one afternoon, while she was working and I was alone at home, I suddenly opened her lingerie drawer and I smelled her clothes. What a sensation... I almost fell down! So I started to dress and undress, feverishly putting on one and then another piece... She was almost my size, so everything fitted. Right at this moment, for the very first time, I tried on her shoes. The heel wasn't too high, but I remember quite well that I had to balance myself on it. Suddenly Betina was reborn... still with not much vitality and only partially, but she was there. Now the conditions were good for dressing, there wasn't any family around anymore to make me hide Betina. I had yto tell my girlfriend the truth, even though it meant possibly risking our relationship...
So I started to say a little thing here, a little thing there, (using true female deviousness...) and when I thought it was the right moment, I told her everything... We had gone to visit a friend of ours in Dortmund, a city near to where we lived and I went wearing a pair of her panties... In the middle of the Autobahn traffic I asked her to put her hand inside my trousers and to guess what I was wearing... She said: panties? It took my breath away, but I saw the delightful surprise in her face, so I told her everything. She accepted everything quite well...
I put on her clothes at home, in front of her. Slowly I was losing the guilt complex, as I was getting older. When I started to work there I began also to buy my own women's clothes...
She worked as "cosmetics salesperson" and she began to try different kinds of make up on me: I was her laboratory. In a certain ways, Betina existed already physically and in my manners, because she taught me, saying: "Don't talk this way", then "a woman wouldn't act like this..." Very gentle and supportive.
After some time she said: "We need to find a name for you!" And, after thinking a little while, she said that "Betina" fitted me. So it was Betina here and Betina there...
Later, we decided not to live together anymore. We found that we couldn't have a common future, because we were too different. We didn't fit together anyway. So living alone, I decided to express my Betina self alone, and go out through the Cologne streets, a big wonderful city, a few kilometers away from my city. I used to go there, in order not to be recognized. In Germany you can go everywhere dressed as a woman. If you are mistreated and call the police, the person who injured you, will be probably handled as racist.
So I started to live as Betina. Slowly, I told all of my friends that I like to dress myself as woman and they accepted my lifestile without a problem (contrary to my expectations)...