It’s perfectly normal.
That’s the wonderful thing about roleplay. You can be whoever you want to be, whenever you want to be.
Who says the characters you enjoy inhabiting have to be the same gender as your anatomy?
Dressing up is a common fantasy, and cross-dressing is a very popular activity. How cool is it, that clothes, like words, are capable of transporting your consciousness into another character’s mind? As if you were donning an enchanted mask, granting you the power to momentarily experience reality through another’s eyes.
Personally, as a straight cis male, I prefer to play with those who have a vulva. But I find it thrilling to discipline gamine women who dress up as tomboys. It’s a delight to be able to construct a shared fantasy where I scold them as naughty little boys, and address them using male names. When I pull down their shorts or trousers, it doesn’t matter that I see a smooth bare slit when I pull down their underpants.
I’ve also hugely enjoyed playing a headmistress and an Edwardian governess too. I can be just as strict wearing women’s clothes, because to me it’s just a costume, not a sexuality transplant.
It’s actually quite exciting to be called Miss. To discipline a girl with a maternal compassion, or with a schoolmistress’s sternness. To undress and inspect her, because “you’ve seen it all before”. All whilst having an erection beneath one’s skirt, which we all do our best not to acknowledge.
So, there’s nothing wrong with your kink (or mine). Imagine how dull your fantasy life would be if you could only ever be you. Instead we have access to a vast wardrobe of virtual sexual personas. We can be someone new for a night, whenever we choose. It’s close to magic.
Isn’t that profoundly wonderful?