This is a long post but, hopefully, pretty well written and somewhat entertaining (I enjoyed writing it anyway).
This is my first post since telling my wife about my crossdressing six weeks ago. I was not planning to tell her as I thought she would divorce me, and I didn’t want to face that (we have been married 25 years and have a 19 year old daughter). However, she found a local hotel confirmation that I had booked for dressing, in my briefcase, and naturally assumed I was having an affair.
So, I told her everything. She was shocked, to say the least. She said she knew something had been going on with me but she didn’t know what. She told me that I couldn’t stay in the house if I was crossdressing, so we started discussing the details of when I would move out and where I would go. In the course of this conversation, I could tell that she really didn’t want me to go, She kept mentioning all the good things about our marriage, how I supported her when her father died, how I helped her with her Masters degree, how close I am to her mother, how it would hurt our daughter, etc..
She really got to me with this discussion, so I asked her if I stopped crossdressing, would she also make some changes, and could I stay. We discussed this for a while and came up with a written list of changes each of us would make. Mine included: No crossdressing, gain 30 pounds (I had lost 30 pounds—from 5’9” 170 pounds to 140); grow back my body hair; no posting on internet—especially pics of myself dressed; start sleeping in the same bedroom (we had had separate bedrooms for the last 2 years). The major point on her list was that we would have sex regularly in a way that worked for me.
We agreed to these changes and then she wanted to know more details of my crossdressing so I told her about my storage unit where I kept my wardrobe. She immediately wanted to go there and get everything and bring it home. We drove down to the unit and, when I opened it up, she was shocked. She couldn’t believe all the stuff I had and how nice it was. She said it was much nicer than her wardrobe (it was). I then told her I had pictures of myself dressed and did she want to see them. She said yes, and looked at them. The look on her face was a combination of disgust and shock. She said I looked horrible and demon-possessed (I don’t know if she really feels this way or just wants to try to convince me that I don’t look good dressed—I suspect the latter). We then loaded everything into the car, drove home, and put it in her closet. I then got rid of all pics of myself dressed including deleting them from Photobucket. I also closed my femme email address and deleted my Yahoo 360 account. I tried to delete my User ID on this forum but it didn’t seem possible so I left it.
Over the next ten days, my wife appropriated the items in my wardrobe that fit her, all the shoes—we are the same size, my purse, and some of the tops. She told me that every time she wears anything from my wardrobe, she gets tons of compliments and she wants me to help her pick out clothes from now on. We have already gone shopping for her several times and she loves, and gets compliments on, everything I buy her.
She also returned the items that I had purchased recently that were unworn (I had kept all the receipts). She then started to give away some of the items that didn’t fit her. Well, by this time, I was really suffering and getting depressed at the thought of not being able to dress ever again. Also, seeing my wardrobe that I had spent to much time picking out, dwindling away was killing me. My body hair was growing back, I had gained ten pounds--I hated it. I was really getting depressed.
Conversely, my wife was thriving. She had been sick with stomach problems and chemical sensitivities (she couldn’t even drive one of our cars as it was new and she couldn’t take the smell). These problems disappeared and she started to lose weight (she had been trying to lose weight, unsuccessfully, for years). We had started to take ballroom dance lessons (she loves ballroom dancing) and she was very happy that I was getting good so fast.
Finally, I asked her if I could dress as part of us having sex. I told her I was suffering and I was worried I would fail if I could never dress again. We tried it that night, but she was really not into it. However, the next morning she told me that she was going to the gym for a couple of hours and that, if I really needed to, I could go ahead and dress.
That’s basically where we are now—kind of a no ask-no tell policy. I dress when I have the house to myself for a few hours (about once or twice a week). I have my wardrobe in a section her closet and she monitors what I have and when I buy new things. Last Monday, I went out en femme for the first time since telling her. So, in conclusion, telling her has turned out well, much better than I ever imagined