I recently saw Dennis Rodman (a professional basketball player for the Chicago Bulls, for the 125 remaining Americans who may not know who he is). Mr. Rodman was being interviewed and he happened to be wearing a dress, in fact a rather well accessorized complete women's outfit. For some reason, perhaps it was the sports connection, but I had an intense flashback on my own life, to a personal dark secret, one which has always held the deepest of guilty pleasures. It started when I was perhaps nine. My mother thought it would be fun to dress me up as a girl for Halloween. My little sister thought it was a great idea, I thought my mom had too much time on her hands. But something happened that evening when we walked around our friendly little neighborhood, I had the best Halloween of my life. And I felt so comfortable. The next year I let my mother think it was her idea to dress me up like a girl again (I think we settled on some movie star of the moment). Over the years I found ways to indulge my secret pleasure, attending an all boys high school I was always 'willing' to take on the female roles in drama productions. Even my wife to this day doesn't know of the moments of freedom I still steal in a nice spring flowered dress. But mr. Rodman has begun to give me hope and courage that someday I too will be able to proudly walk like a real man in my favorite evening dress.

submitted by Ray D.
Pomona, California USA
March 1997