So it's been a little while since I last posted, a month or so, and a lot has happened.
I'll try to be succinct. Even I get pissed off with my verbiage sometimes.
Those who've followed my story will know I'm a full time carer to my American wife of 20+ years. That I came out as a crossdresser (much to my own surprise) 2 years ago. And that Lee was diagnosed with breast cancer in February.
Lee's struggled with my dressing. She seemed actually quite supportive throughout 2018, even buying me dresses and shoes. But by last Christmas it became clear to her that this is not a phase as she'd hoped and she made her displeasure known I'd just coined the name Abigail and joined this site so I was feeling more like me than I ever had. I even quit drinking after 30 years. It's zero exaggeration to say I should have died in 2018.
So because of her unhappiness I didn't dress. Then she was disgnosed with the cancer and asked to not deal with my gender issues until she'd completed treatment. I assented, not wishing to add to her already full plate.
Ah were it ever that simple.
I started dressing a little hybrid. Knickers. She'd noticed the VPL. Bangles. She hated the sound. Just little touches. I figured I was doing pretty well at keeping to my word since had I my choice I'd have dressed more fully but this constant low level femininity wasn't doing her any favours.
Despite nothing else having changed really everything has changed. In early September just after her lumpectomy surgery I attended an NB social and it was good. I made a really good friend there who lives close by and whom I've seen on a regular basis since. She never calls me anything other than Abbie.
Then in discussion with another girlfriend, in Canada, I was asked to recount my CD life story. This was a watershed because well one I'm not writing again, for the first time in years. But also in the course of writing the tale I remembered a number of incidents in my life that I'd so thoroughly repressed as to render them non-existent. I'd already realised some months ago that this is a part of me. I thought I was at peace with being a crossdresser. However I not recognise I'm trans. Simple as.
Except 'simple' isn't ever a part of the equation. I don't want to lose my marriage. I have an awful lot invested in it. So, since these epiphanies I've been trying to realise a compromise. I now venture out as me (yay me. Kept that quiet didn't I? !), at the moment once a week, but that time as Abbie assuage my dysphoria to enough of a degree (at the moment) that the rest of the time I'm 100% Chris. I keep hoping that this is enough for her, because ultimately it's the best I can do. After almost half a century trying to be someone I'm not I can't go back in that box. It was me drinking myself to death, not Chris. I had to in order to silence myself enough. In order to try to comply with the multiplicity of voices telling me 'boys don't think, feel, act or speak like that'.
So yeah that's my news of the last month or so...
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