I Don't Miss It

Like so many others, I’m a complete closet case. The only times I get to express my inner self are the few times when my wife goes away for a few days.

But do I miss all the dressing and playing and excitement? Not a bit!

I don’t miss looking down and seeing the sensual smooth shape of a pretty shoe curving around my toes and hugging my foot, encasing my foot, transforming my foot. I don’t miss seeing the long shape of an elegant heel extending down from the bottom of my foot. I don’t miss the feel of high heels as I walk - forcing my steps to be more careful, more elegant, more feminine.

Do I miss it? Not a bit!

I don’t miss the smooth sensual feel of stockings as they caress my legs, encasing my legs in their web of delight. Making my legs look smoother, more shapely, sexier. Making me feel smoother, prettier, more like myself.

I don’t miss it, not at all.

I don’t miss the joy of wearing skirts, their varying styles either granting me unencumbered freedom or comforting restriction, or any of the ranges in-between. I don’t miss their playful hems tickling my legs wherever they happen to fall. I don’t miss their many styles and colors allowing me to express myself differently with every mood that I feel: playful, reserved, flirty, business-like, casual, sexy.

How could anyone miss something like that?

I don’t miss wearing pretty blouses and tops, or having a myriad variety of fabrics to choose from to cover my body. Blouses and tops that come in a seemingly endless variety of shapes that can cover everything… or almost nothing. Blouses that come in an endless variety of colors and patterns to match any mood or occasion. Blouses that are elegant, or trashy, or restrictive, or comfortable. Their never ending variety enabling me to mix and match and remix and rematch my clothes to my heart’s content.

How could I possibly miss that?

I don’t miss wearing makeup in the least. I don’t miss being able to at least attempt to transform my face into something more pleasing, less plain… maybe even approaching pretty. I don’t miss playing with the colors or textures, I don’t miss smelling the fragrances against my skin or tasting the lipstick on my lips. I don’t miss changing my face from boring and washed-out and monochrome to something more colorful and interesting and alive.

So sue me, I just don’t miss it.

I don’t miss wearing pretty jewelry. I don’t miss having pretty earrings dangling from my ears, or sparkling gems hanging from my neck or bangly bracelets encircling my wrists. I don’t miss their sparkle, playfully reflecting the light into someone’s eyes, adding interest to my vision, making me feel pretty, confident, feminine.

No, that’s not something I could ever miss.

I don’t miss wearing perfume. I don’t miss having that subtle scent surrounding me, transforming me into a pleasing breath of fresh air to anyone who happens to come near. I don’t miss having a scent that could make others smile and implant a positive, pleasing attitude toward me in their heads.

No, I don’t miss that at all.

I don’t miss having pretty hair that I can play with and style in ever changing ways. Hair that I can decorate with ribbons and hair clips. Hair that can hang loose or be pulled back or up. Hair that can be either straight or curly depending on my mood or whim. Hair that can add so much interest to my face. Hair that I can wrap around my fingers and play with, unconsciously.

I have absolutely no interest in it at all.

And finally, because I have one additional little quirk, I don’t miss the erotic feel and humiliation of being in diapers. I don’t miss their thick padding encasing me, their unforgiving fullness controlling me, their private shame humiliating me - endlessly.

How could I possibly long for something that would make me feel juvenile and controlled? Something that would humiliate me?

These and so much more are things that really have no meaning for me.

So do I miss any of this? Not one bit! …Am I fooling anyone?