Out of the blue last week my wife tells me, I say again TELLS ME, that we are getting a hotel room on Saturday and that I’m to bring my “girl cloths.”
My response, of course, is to say, “No way! You can’t make me! I’m not going to put on a dress…!”
Okay, just kidding!
Of course I’m ecstatic! Dancing in the street even! To be clear, my wife does not like my cross-dressing. She does not find women attractive, and is deathly afraid of my being “outed” and having it affect my ability to support the family, or damage her relationship with her relatives. Some may not understand her position, or agree with it, but that’s the world I live in.
So having her suggest a “dress up” session is a huge step.
On Saturday we drive 80 miles to a different town, get a hotel room and I get to dress up for the evening. Denim skirt, floral ¾ sleeve top, heels, make up, wig, breast forms, and panty hose… It has been months sense my last chance to dress up and it feels wonderful!
As the evening progresses I finally work up the courage to talk to my wife about my dressing. Yes, it always takes me a long time to “work up the courage” to talk to my wife about cross-dressing. Why? The habit of hiding. Most in my generation of cross-dressers (I’m 52) have a built it reflex of secrecy that is almost impossible to break. I my case it is so ingrained that it is sometimes physically impossible to talk about my cross-dressing. All in my head? Of course it is! That doesn’t make it any less real…
Any way, we have a chance to talk about some things. Some things I want to do, like wearing more jewelry and getting my ears and navel pierced. Things she doesn’t like: my long and painted nails… We have the inevitable discussion about sex change (no I don’t want to…), going full time enfemme (again, not for me).
Then she asked, “Just how feminine do you want to look all the time?” This was a hard question to answer. To give you an idea of my appearance, I pluck my eyebrows, I epilate my arms and legs, and I have long nails that are painted with OPI clear matte nail strengthener (yes, you can tell they are painted, no matter what anyone says…). The best, most honest, answer I could come up with is androgynous. I don’t thinks she was totally happy with this, but she didn’t demand a divorce.
It was at about this point in the conversation when she said that she was, “afraid of losing the man she married (Emphasis on the word “man.”) That every time I became a little bit more feminine, I became a little less the MAN she married.”
Wow, that was a long way to come to the point! How many of you have had the same conversation with your spouse? How did you deal with it?