I walked through the door and my wife asked me “How did it go?”. I replied with “How did what go?” and I flashed a smile. She had to run out to complete an errand and said she wanted to hear everything when she got back. I went upstairs, turned on some music, and put on the new dress I bought to commemorate the evening. I had been trembling all week. My hands still shook as I applied my eyeliner.
Soon my wife returned and we poured some wine and I told her about telling my mom about my crossdressing.
It is now Sunday evening. A little more than 24 hours from the big talk. I sit at the keyboard, having a glass of wine, wearing a long, summery nightgown listening to Taylor Swift still trying to soak in the conversation.
I arrived at my mom’s last night and we chatted for a bit. Finally I started to talk. I told her why I was telling her. The reason for the revelation. The truth is I would like to have a better relationship with her. I want to more open with her. It seems silly in a way that my wife, my sisters and brother know the whole me, but my mom doesn’t. I can’t tell you how many crossdressers told me that they wished that they told their mom but now it is too late. I don’t want regrets. My mom will not live forever, and I want to tell her everything.
I rambled on about this for a bit until I announced “I’m a crossdresser.” She almost lept back in her seat, completely shocked.
“You mean, wearing women’s clothes?”
“Yes.”
I wish i had recorded the conversation so I could tell the story better, but it went well. Really well. All week I had prepared for the normal questions. No, I am not gay. I don’t want to transition. No, I am not a woman in a man’s body. Yes, I love being a male.
But in the end, those questions were never asked. She was…awesome about it. She asked who else knew. She asked if I went out. She didn’t ask when I started, but I told her I’ve been dressing all my life. We talked about when I dress, we talked about my wife, and our girls nights.
She felt bad that I was so burdened by this. I told her I didn’t feel burdened by my dressing. There’s never been shame or guilt or anything. No, she felt bad about my withholding it from her for so long not knowing how she would react. We talked about Hannah, and her life.
She told me she loved me and that she loves Hannah. She hugged me.
It was a very short, lively conversation. I shocked her with the reveal, as she hadn’t a clue about it. She shocked me with her reaction. There was no hesitation of love and acceptance.
I was stunned. I still am.
I saw her again today and she said she is still digesting what I told her. More questions and talks will arise, I am sure. I hope in my heart that her love and understanding is still there after this sinks in.
I am lucky to have the life that I have. To have the family and wife that I have.
I am lucky to have people reading my blog and offering me support and encouragement.
I am a lucky man. I am a lucky girl.
Love, Hannah
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. I've been following your posts and blog on this subject, so really pleased that your life appears to be going from strength to strength. Long may it continue.
