It’s been a fairly odd week and I’m not really sure how to deal with the miriad emotions running through my head.
I have, from time-to-time, attempted to broach the subject of crossdressing with my wife. Never directly bringing it up, but talking about the subject to try and feel her attitude out. Well, Monday night I got my difinitive answer.
I was grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge; she was asking me if I wanted to come shopping with her and her friend Sunday if I got my school work done. I told her that I really didn’t have a reason to and joked that she always asks me to come shopping, but never lets me buy a dress. She said something to the effect of, “If you ever actually told me that you’re a transvestite, I’d probably divorce you.” Well, since I consider myself a crossdresser, I told her I wasn’t, but that really hurt me.
Tuesday, I had had a long day at work. That, combined with a serious lack of sleep for the past sevral nights, caused me to be a lot more open with a friend of ours in an IM conversation than I normally would have been. I ended up, trusting in her words of encouragement and assurances that she wasn’t going to “ditch”, telling her the quick story of me and my desires to wear women’s clothing.
I wasn’t at all sure what to expect, and I was incredibly nervous waiting for the reply to come through in our semi-asynchronous communications. I was both relieved, and mildly shocked, when her response basically said that I had only confirmed something that she suspected, and later that it didn’t at all change how she cared about me.
Even recalling it now, I’m tearing up thinking about the fact that she is willing to accept me for who I am, no matter what is in my head.
Over the last few days, I’ve vascilated between feeling good about it, and a mild amount of anger and guilt.
Until now, the only people who have known about this part of me are either those that knew about it before I got married (mostly a couple of previous girlfriends), and you all who started out pretty much knowing this side of me existed. Now I feel mildly like my worlds have collided. Before, it was really easy to justify not telling my spouse because no one who knew her had any idea. It was like I could keep those “parts” separated. but now I’m dealing with feeling guilty that I’ve shared something like this with a close friend and not my wife (who is supposed to be my soul mate and partner), but I’m also angry because I know that, based on her reaction, she will never be open to accepting that I’m still me, and this is just a part of me.
There’s also some guilt surfacing telling me I should have told her about me a long time ago. Even reminding myself that, then, I was pretending it didn’t exist, isn’t making me feel any differently. I don’t love my wife any less, but I don’t know what to do with the certainty that, if she knew about “all” of me, she wouldn’t like me anymore
Ugh. I hate feeling this uncertain, this confused, this lost, but I pretty much don’t know how else to feel or what to do now.
I’m hoping at least writing it down will get it out of my head a while so I can concentrate on the essay I have to finish. We’ll see.