As I sit in my room, staring at myself in the mirror, I can't help but feel a deep longing inside me. A longing to be a woman, to experience the feeling of being called pretty, sweet, beautiful girl. I want to try on all kinds of dresses and feel the soft fabric brushing against my skin. I want to wear high heels and feel my hips sway as I walk.
My name is Rohit, but in my secret life, I go by the name of Rhea. Rhea is the woman I always wanted to be, but I can only be her in the privacy of my own room. In the real world, I am a man, living in a traditional Indian family where such thoughts and desires are not only frowned upon but also considered taboo.
I was always fascinated with the idea of dressing up as a girl, ever since I was a child. It started with sneaking into my mother's closet and trying on her sarees, and gradually progressed to trying on my sister's dresses whenever she wasn't around. The feeling of wearing something so delicate and feminine made me feel complete, as if I was living my true self.
But it wasn't just about the clothes, it was also about the way it made me feel. When I put on a dress, I felt pretty and sweet, like a beautiful girl. I longed to hear those words from someone else, to have someone else see me in that light. It was a secret desire that I kept hidden from the world, knowing that it was not accepted in our society.
One thing that I was particularly fascinated with was having long hair. I would spend hours imagining what it would be like to have hair that flowed down my back, and all the different ways I could style it. Ponytails, braids, buns - the possibilities were endless.
But as a boy, I was never allowed to grow my hair long. I would stare enviously at girls with long, luscious locks, wishing that I could have hair like that. Sometimes, when I was alone in my room, I would tie a towel around my head and pretend that it was my long hair.
The idea of having my hair combed by my mother was especially enticing. I would picture myself sitting in front of her, while she ran a comb through my hair, gently untangling any knots. It was a comforting thought, like a mother taking care of her daughter.
I knew that these desires were not accepted by society, that I was not supposed to want to be a girl. But the more I tried to suppress these feelings, the more they persisted. I couldn't help but dream about a life where I could dress as a girl, have long hair, and be called pretty and sweet.
I want to be the center of attention among my friends, to be the pretty girl who turns heads when she enters the room. But instead, I am always the shy, reserved boy who tries to blend in with the crowd.
It's not easy for me to say this, but I have always felt like I was born in the wrong body. I am a man, but I have always wanted to be a girl. I know that sounds strange, but it's the truth.
I have always felt jealous of girls, especially when they're in a group. I've noticed that they always seem to get so much attention from everyone, especially boys. Boys are always trying to impress girls, giving them gifts and talking sweetly with them about everything. I've always wanted to be a part of that, to be one of those girls that boys are always trying to win over.
It's not just about the attention though, it's more than that. I've always admired how girls dress up and make themselves look pretty. The way they do their hair, the makeup they wear, the clothes they put on - it's all so fascinating to me. I want to experience all of that, to feel what it's like to be pretty and feminine.
I watch girls in my class all the time, observing the way they move, the way they talk, the way they interact with each other. I notice how they always seem to be having so much fun together, laughing and joking around. I want to be a part of that too, to have a group of girlfriends who I can hang out with and be myself around.
I've even thought about what it would be like to have long hair. Girls always seem to have such beautiful hair, and they're always doing different things with it - putting it up in a ponytail, braiding it, or just letting it flow down their backs. I would love to have hair like that, to be able to do all those things with it.
As I grew older, I started noticing the attention that girls were getting from boys. They were given gifts, sweet talk, and lots of attention. It made me feel jealous and left out. I wanted to be that girl who was showered with affection and attention.
But my desire to be a girl didn't stop there. I also wanted to experience what it was like to be someone's girlfriend, to be pampered, and made to feel special. I wanted to be the apple of a man's eye, the one he couldn't resist.
I longed to be treated like an angel, like someone who was cherished and adored. I wanted to be the one he couldn't wait to see and hold in his arms. I wanted to be swept off my feet and feel like I was the most important person in the world.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I wanted to be more than just someone's girlfriend. I wanted to be their girl, the one they could take care of, protect, and cherish.
I wanted to be the girl who could make him laugh, who could listen to him when he needed someone to talk to, and who could be there for him through thick and thin. I wanted to be the girl who could support him in his dreams and goals and who could make him feel loved and appreciated.
I wanted to be the perfect girl, the one who could make him forget about all his problems and just be happy in the moment. I wanted to be the girl who could make his heart skip a beat with just a smile or a touch.
But most of all, I wanted to be the girl who could experience the joy and intimacy of being with a man, of feeling loved and desired, and of being able to give my love in return.
I want to be a real man's partner, to be loved and cherished by a man who sees me for who I truly am. I want to be the woman that he desires, the woman that he wants to protect and pamper.
I even dream of being a wife, experiencing the pleasures of the flesh as a woman. I want to feel the passion and love of my partner, to be completely vulnerable in his arms. But I know that this is just a dream that will never come true.
I've always felt like I was meant to be a housewife, taking care of the household and all its members. Whenever I see a woman taking care of her family, cooking, cleaning, and being the glue that holds everything together, I can't help but feel envious of her. I want to be that person, the one who is responsible for making everything run smoothly.
I imagine waking up early in the morning and starting my day by cooking a delicious breakfast for my family. I want to be the one who sets the table, prepares the food, and serves everyone with love and affection. I want to make sure that everyone is well-fed and happy, ready to take on the day ahead.
After breakfast, I would clean the kitchen and do the dishes. I love the idea of taking care of the house, making sure everything is clean and organized. It's a small act of service, but it makes such a big difference in the overall feel of the home.
Once the house is clean, I would move on to the other household chores. Dusting, vacuuming, laundry, and anything else that needs to be done. I know it may sound mundane, but to me, it's an act of love and devotion.
In the evenings, I would cook dinner for my family again, and we would all sit down and eat together. I love the idea of having that quality time together as a family, talking and laughing over a delicious meal.
As a housewife, I would also take care of my husband's needs. I would make sure he has a warm meal waiting for him when he gets home from work, and I would listen to him when he needs to talk about his day. I want to be the kind of wife who makes her husband feel loved and appreciated.
I often imagine how it would feel like to be loved by a man as a woman. How it would feel to be in his arms, to have him caress my soft, feminine body. I picture myself with long, flowing hair, long hair cascading down my back as I am being held by my partner, my husband gently running his fingers through it as he pulls me closer to him.I often imagine myself in the arms of a loving partner, feeling his gentle touch on my skin
I want to feel submissive, to let him take control and show me what it means to be a woman. I want to feel his hands all over me, exploring every inch of my body, making me feel desirable and beautiful. I want to feel the warmth of his embrace and the security of knowing that he is there for me.
I want to make love to him as a woman, to feel his body pressed against mine, his breath hot on my skin. I want to be the one who is held and cherished, who is made to feel like the center of his world.
I long to experience the pleasure that women feel when their partner touches them in just the right way, sending waves of ecstasy through their bodies. I want to feel the intensity of a woman's orgasm and the way it leaves her feeling fulfilled and complete.
And I want to experience it all as a woman. I want to feel the softness of my skin, the curves of my body, and the sensations that only a woman can feel. I want to be lost in the moment, to forget everything else and just be in his embrace.
All of these physical sensations are so elusive to me, yet they are something that I crave with all my being. I long to be able to experience them as any woman would, to feel the beauty of being a woman and to revel in the unique and wondrous physical sensations that come with it.
I know that it's not just about the physical sensations, but also the emotional connection that a woman can have with her partner. I want to experience that level of intimacy and vulnerability, to share myself completely with someone who loves and accepts me as I am.
It's not just about sex, it's about feeling like a whole person. As a man, I often feel like I have to be strong and in control all the time, but as a woman, I imagine being able to let go of that and just be myself.
When it comes to family, it's not just about the housework and taking care of my husband. I want to be there for my in-laws too, to take care of them and treat them like my own family. I want to be the daughter-in-law who is always there to help, always making sure that everyone is happy and taken care of.
And when it comes to festivals and celebrations, I want to be the one who dresses up in a beautiful saree and wears all the jewelry, looking like a traditional Indian woman. I want to take part in all the rituals and ceremonies, feeling like a true part of the family.
I have always wanted to experience the feeling of being a mother. The thought of carrying a child in my womb, feeling its movements, and knowing that I am creating life inside me fills me with such an intense longing. It's a desire that I cannot explain, but it's always been there.
As a crossdresser, I know that it may be impossible for me to physically carry a child, but that doesn't stop me from dreaming about it. I often imagine what it would be like to be pregnant and to feel the life growing inside me. I wonder what it would be like to have a child that is a part of me and my partner, to see their features and personality traits develop as they grow.
I also yearn for the attention and love that a mother receives from her husband during pregnancy. The way he would dote on me, make sure that I'm comfortable, and shower me with affection would be something that I would cherish forever. I imagine that we would spend hours talking about our hopes and dreams for our child and planning for their future.
And when the child is born, I long to be able to raise them with love and care. To watch them grow, learn, and experience the world would be a joy beyond measure. To hear them call me "mom" and know that I am the most important person in their life would be the ultimate fulfillment of my deepest desires.
But as I remove my makeup and take off my dress, I am forced to return to reality. I have to hide all my feminine clothes and accessories, making sure that no one in my family discovers my secret. I have to act like the man that I am, hiding my true self deep inside.
Every day, I try to live my life as normally as possible, but my heart yearns for something more. Something that I can never have. But still, I keep dreaming and hoping that someday, somehow, my true self will be accepted and loved for who I am.
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