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Slowly my soul has become possessed by this devil. Definitely an insidious onset. I remember as a young child wearing a skirt at kindergarten under the guise as pretending to be a ghost. A bit older I remeber saying "I wish I was a girl." In junior high, I remember the girls on the bus pinning me down and putting makeup on me, and how everyone was shocked how much I looked like a girl, and more importantly how I liked it, and wanted to see. Then I did the military thing. I messed around with guys a handful of times, always feeling kind of guilty, but eventually always trying again because It was quite right, there was something more that I needed. Since then, I've introduced strapons to two seperate marriages, and messed around with guys a handful of times. With clarity I can say I'm not attracted to men, but I love being the more submissive partner. I love being penetrated. I love feeling feminine, I can feel it in my brain, in my loins. I can feel where my uterus should be. I can feel where my labia and vagina should be. I had a blood test come back as part of a physical, and my Dr at the time thought that my testosterone was low, but later seemed unconcerned about it. I forget what it was, but it was a bit under the normal range, and I love that. I think about it sometimes and fantasize that it comes back a zero!
Of course, I've started wearing panties. Most of us love that, I'd imagine. At one point, I recall not even owning mens underwear. Now I wear the most feminine mens undies that are readily found. As the situation allows, I of course slip panties on to help be more congruent with how I feel. I work in healthcare and have worked with essentially all women. As the only guy, it sucks. Kind of on the outside. But the woman inside me loves it. I get to take cues from them. I'm up on Etsy, thirty-one, etc. I love to see their clothes, etc.
Then I came out to my wife. And she freaked. Now, this shouldn't have been a gigantic surprise. I'd often openly wear her panties to bed. She just got off using a strapon on me. She Knew about my exploits with guys. Like, hello!? Kind of surprised that she didn't ask me about it first. What really works against me here is that one of her longtime boyfriends was a CD, and she couldn't stand that. In the immediate aftermath of that, I bought a wig and a few bras, and some panty hoes. Then she really freaked. So I said I'd stop. I drew the line at throwing away my new things. The best thing to come from coming out to her is my wig and a couple of b-cup bras that fit. I freaking love my long black hair! I think the combination of low testosterone and 10-20 extra pounds gives me enough fit nice in b-cups. Having my own hair (sort-of) and bras feels so feminine and liberating.
I did try to stop dressing like the woman I should have been, but I can't. I guess I was born this way. I think about being a woman everyday. For most of the day. Any time I'm alone near a mirror I pull up and cover up my junk and I can see what my labia would look like, and it always makes me feel better. Especially when I have to pull my panties to the side to look...I just stare and stare. When I put it away, if I'm wearing a nice dress or something, I'll look in the mirror and see all woman. Very peaceful feeling.
I think the unspoken acceptance now is that I dress up when she's at work, but never admit it. I essentially got nailed not too long ago when a pair of her panties that she never wears was in the laundry. Like many of us, I'll shave my underarms, sometimes my pubic hair. This will often bring an accusation of "You've been playing dress-up" I'll say "No" while thinking "Duh, I dress up like a man everyday." She really hated when I recently shaved my chest. I've been blessed with being paricularly un-hairy. But we all know that in a bra that chest hair, no matter how slight, makes us feel less feminine. She likes a hairy guy she says, I hate feeling like a gorilla. My leg hair is super fine, so I don't really need to shave that, but if I could get away with it I'd get rid of the hair on my chest, tummy, arms, and certainly face, as permanently as I could.
I work part-time and have a lot of days off during the week. My biggest concern isn't getting caught, it comes second to wearing women's clothes. So I'm still careful. I hate, hate, hate the fact that I have to rummage through her dirty clothes for outfits that are often too short. Other than being cursed with a penis, my biggest source of personal anxiety is being a bit over six feet tall. Makes you feel like a freaking amazon warrior. Just a little bit too much belly, but I could work on that. Besides, I'm not the only woman that isn't happy with her weight. I'm reasonably unhairy, kind of have some natural cleavage without too much weight, have a great rump and can fit into my wifes dresses and shoes. But don't we all wish we had a full closet of clothes that fit and flatter our figures. Some jeans and slacks, shoes that fit perfectly, our own bras and panties. Not just a few items stuffed in a bag locked in a trunk, that we hope a significant other doesn't get frisky and throw away.
Sometimes we have arguements, and they get ugly. I do wonder if she's trying to push me away, but that's probably just paranoia. If she does nuke this marriage, I know that the next day I'll make an appointment at the VA for an overdue annual checkup, and have already practiced saying "I'd really like to talk to someone who speacializes in Gender Dysphoria and Gender Identity disorder. I imagine it would take a few months to get on estrogen. Could probably pass as a man at work for a year or two. At some point, my therapist would guide me in coming out (again), to the people that matter. I feel like I could tell my dad anytime, but I'm not going to stress out anyone just yet. But if this relationship ends, the begging of the plan is set. The VA would cover the therapy and hormones, so I could save my money for the surgeries. And the clothes. And shoes. And makeup.
I think I could successfully transition. You know when you look in the mirror and see a beautiful woman, but then you look again and pick out all the masculine things... it's like wtf is wrong with this mirror! I think hormones would really help with a lot of that. I also never wear makeup to keep from getting caught, so that would certainly help. I hear the hormones can make you more sensitive to male pheromones, but I could really see myself in as a lesbian, especially with someone on the butch side. Do we all fantasize about meeting someone wealthy who loves us and excepts us, who removes all barriers to us becoming women? Someone who enables us to become a great housewife/soccer mom, and shields us from those that put up the social and emotional barriers. Too bad there is only one Ellen.
Sorry so long, just needed someone safe to talk to. A question to end: I've always wondered where the post-op girls go online. Don't see a lot of them. Oh, well. Thanks for listening.
OMG that's even longer than I thought. Abridged version: Hi, I'm Jessica, I'm literally and figuretively in the closet. I came out to my wife once and it didn't work so great, but I got a great wig and some bras out of it. I frequently fantasize about the woman I can become, and often feel that I could blend in as a beautiful woman who is on the tall side. I wish we could all find our own personal Ellen.
Jessica, quite a few women on here are post-op. Its not something a lot of people put too much emphasis on. we are all just people. It does tend to make some people sound elitist. but they are here, to help out with their experiences and offer support and help.
Hi Jessica, yet another (quite recent) post op here! I think for some of us transwomen, once we are post op we become at peace with ourselves and just want to live our lives as women, and leave behind our past conflict.
Sarah xx
