Hello, gurls?I am reaching out to you today for some relationship advice on how to deal with a situation that I am sure a number of others here have already encountered in the past. Input from the GG?s here would not only be appreciated as well, but indeed welcome.

Back in November, my wife went for a regularly scheduled mammogram at which time an abnormality was discovered in one of her breasts. A biopsy (very painful!) was subsequently conducted which confirmed the initial suspicions and resulted in a cancer diagnosis. This devastating news was delivered exactly a week before Christmas?exquisite timing, to say the least. The initial diagnosis that was delivered over the phone (Covid-19, social distancing and all that) appeared to be relatively positive, all things considered. It was deemed to be a ?good cancer?, allegedly relatively easy to treat, the tumour itself was small, and a simple lumpectomy appeared to be all that would be necessary followed by some radiation treatment. We went with that initial optimism up until the actual in-person consultation with the attending surgeon, which I was not only permitted - but actually encouraged - to attend to provide the required moral support, as well ensure that we both heard the same version from the same source (I actually recorded the entire discussion on my mobile phone with the surgeon?s permission). Ironically, that consultation was scheduled for December 31?what better way to end an already miserable year and ring in the New Year?NOT!

Long story short, upon examining the affected breast in person and with much additional prodding and poking, the surgeon determined that a more invasive procedure was now indicated, and that if my wife still wanted to go with a lumpectomy, it would leave her breast badly deformed. Not only that, given the position of the tumour and being so close to the surface, it became clear that she would also lose her nipple in the process. Based on that, the surgeon was now recommending a full mastectomy. He felt that this approach would be far less disfiguring in the long run, lend itself more readily to a future possible breast reconstruction, as well minimize the risk of any stray cancer cells being left behind using a less radical procedure.

As long as I live, I will never forget the look of surprise, disbelief, and trepidation on my wife?s face when she heard that diagnosis. I have never seen her as vulnerable, exposed and shell-shocked, sitting there on the examining table wearing only a flimsy johnny-shirt and being expected to make a life-altering decision on the spot with no prior knowledge of what was about to come down. And here I was?ostensibly there to provide moral support for my wife but instead finding myself concurring with the surgeon?s recommendation based on pure logic, when having to make such a traumatic and emotionally-charged decision like that is probably one of the hardest things a woman will ever face.

What right did I, as a man, have to add my $0.02 worth to the discussion even though in my heart I knew that the surgeon was correct in what he was recommending? That awful thought will haunt me forever as well. Fortunately, my wife was able to draw upon an incredible inner strength at that moment in accepting the surgeon?s more radical recommendation of her own volition and signed the required consent form, concluding ? quite correctly ? that given the available choices, she would rather lose a breast than compromise further her chances for surviving this cancer.

The reason for me going into this level of detail is to provide some context around the question that I am about to ask, and it?s all about being in a DADT situation and how to navigate this new development within the framework of a decades-old marriage. My wife and I are both in our early 70?s now, and I would imagine that there are others here whom fate has placed into a similar position and who would be able to share their experiences and provide me with some badly-needed advice.

It is no secret to any of us that much of the reason for ending up in a DADT situation with a wife or S/O is that on some level, our partners see our ?female? selves as either some sort of competitor for their love and attention i.e., the proverbial ?other woman?, or else that we are creating some sort of ?fantasy woman? for ourselves whose standards she cannot live up to and is therefore a repudiation of her own sexuality, sexual attractiveness, and innate femininity. Of course, much of a woman?s sense of self worth is tied into how she perceives herself as well as how she looks to others and her breasts are often a large part of that, which is also why losing one or both can be so devastating to her.

So here we are. I am still a crossdresser and will always be. And like most others here, I am completely heterosexual, am strongly attracted to women, and my desire for ?dressing up? is a compartmentalized expression of my gender identity that I keep to myself while otherwise navigating the day-to-day world as a ?normal? man. Consequently, I keep it out of my wife?s face as much as possible for the reasons already stated above, and have always tried to be an exemplary husband, father, and grandfather. But with her already fragile innate sense of femininity, where does her losing a breast leave us now? Will she now become even more hard-core DADT, and will our marriage face even more challenges than before because of my crossdressing, especially since reconstructive surgery is off the table as far as she is concerned?

That said, I am not so shallow that my wife?s attractiveness to me is centered largely on her appearance, including her breasts. My love for her goes well beyond that - DADT notwithstanding - and if anything, my love and respect for her has only increased seeing how incredibly she has handled this devastating news. I am not freaked out at the prospect of her losing a breast, and yet, how do I communicate this credibly when there is still this huge elephant in the room?

Hopefully, some of what I have said here will resonate with others here who have been in similar situations, and I look forward to getting helpful feedback based on their own real-life experiences.