Regular readers to this column will know that outside T-web I have only one friend (Paul) who knows how I really am. Or at least so I thought. Recently he told me that he’d told someone else (William) about me when I’d first told him. This was many years ago and I did actually say at the time that I wouldn’t mind if this person knew. He’s a mutual friend of ours, a little older and wiser, and also gay. William helped Paul a lot when he came out so obviously they’re very close. I don’t see William very often now but I’ve known him a long time and he’s one of those people with whom I have a special bond, he’s very lovely, and you couldn’t help but like him. Anyway Paul asked me to email some pics to William, I know what you’re thinking, gay blokes emailing pics to each other… no it was nothing like that, something to do with antiques in fact. Anyway I thought it was about time I spoke up so I’ve just written him a letter, to accompany the pics. It’ll be the first time he’ll have heard me refer to myself as Lucy, in fact I’m not sure if he knows my real name, and I just wanted to explain briefly where I was coming from. Even Paul is only just finding out some things about me, things that I knew but found difficult to put into words. And even I have found a few keys recently which have unlocked secret compartments in my soul which I never even knew were there. It’s a voyage of discovery alright. Anyway the point is, if people know about me I want them to know the facts, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "He’s a cross-dresser" is simply not sufficient, and could mean any number of things, and I’m not even sure exactly how Paul has explained it to William, but I’m sure he wouldn’t have been able to have been as thorough as I am. I tried not to waffle on too much in the letter, as I’m inclined to do; a brief précis of my life in two paragraphs, but I think I got the main points across. I was recently told that writing unsent letters, as I have done to my family in the past, is actually a form of therapy, and I can see why – I’ve tried to explain that myself; it’s all down to my favourite word – catharsis. But writing letters that people are going to read and you can discuss afterwards is even better. There are a lot of girls here who have told close friends and felt a sense of relief. I was never aware of being troubled by it, but keeping something like this to yourself, not being able to talk about it, can’t be good for you. I felt better having told Paul, but in recent years I’ve not had much to say on the subject, until I joined this site and started going out of course, now he can’t shut me up. I’m glad someone else knows now, which is why I started on the subject; someone else I can open up to. Openness is a need which perhaps we all have, but which has been made greater in myself by bottling things up for so long. Like a bottle of fizzy drink that’s been rolling around the floor for ages and just wants to burst open, and probably have a splash of vodka added for good measure. The unsent letter which I will be sending at lunchtime was good to write, very therapeutic. In much the same way as this blog is for me. But my blog is made all the more special by the people who are reading it. Thanks for letting me share it with you, and thanks for being special, and for just being there. xx