Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Sunday, 12 February 2012

My addiction and my Ex pt3

What I guess I was looking for.  Like it
even exists or I'd want it if I had it.
So, early on in the relationship, when everything was going well, Toby would say things like "if I had legs like yours, I'd wear dresses all the time, show 'em off!" and she would compliment me on my feminine body.  She was keen to support me in my transvestism, and just didn't realise.  I guess I was still new to everything but I was also incredibly selfish and, ultimately, I viewed the whole things as a means of getting myself excited, as a consequence I wanted to be forced to dress and simply being complimented wasn't really enough.  I always wanted more.  I can't quite believe how selfish I was being actually nor how much I didn't notice at the time.  I could have really taken advantage of the situation, I could have been dressing and in a relationship at the same time!
The only knickers that I owned
at the time.  Plain black hi-legs
from a cheap Morrison's pack
of five.

However, there was the time where I did dress to go out.  Up until that point I had dressed at Toby's suggestion and she had been in the driving seat.  She had put me in handcuffs and locked me outside her room, she had chosen the wardrobe, put me in make-up and teased me about wearing knickers.  All of these things were good, they were consensual, they were fun.  They were also very exciting, even if I was pretty poor at accepting them.  We had masturbated one another in bed, we had both reached climax and we had both slept in the same bed all night numerous times.  But she had been in the driving seat, even prompting me to be more forceful.  Now and again I took the driving seat, with her permission, and tied her up or held her down or whatever.  I knew that she was into bondage and pain because with her own ex she had ended up with bite marks and bruises and, once I was going out with her, I saw that this wasn't abuse - she did ask me to try the same and while we did bite one another a little, I really didn't want to leave a bruise, so I didn't.  There are ways.

So, after her birthday, where I dressed as a schoogirl and had a really good time, I wanted to dress again.  On her birthday I was able to hang around with Toby and the girls rather than the blokes.  It was nice, we talked about everything and nothing.  I should point out that they weren't really girly girls, they were roleplayers, and so the conversation wasn't about 'typical' girly things - that wasn't why I found it nice - it was just nice to talk with them and to be seen, in some ways, as equally feminine - enough to share the conversation and not to feel that I was out of place.  We ended up touching arms a lot and we hugged when parting or when having conversation generally.  In the club we discussed dancing and I tried to use more feminine dance moves, turns out I was better at that than I would have been at dancing normally, something Toby later confirmed.  I had enjoyed the experience and so convinced Toby to assent to my dressing the next time we went to a club.  I had a dress that I had bought on eBay, a mini-dress with a white stripe down it like a racing car, and I really liked it.  It was rather short, but I put it on, stuffed the bosom and wore a wig and also make up.  It was cool.  However, it was a very cold night and I had to borrow Toby's jacket, but I was wearing my own shoes rather than female ones.  We had tried Toby's boots but they were too small, which figures.

This is how I'd like to look when driving: assured and
confident.  Interestingly, despite the cliche, women are
statistically more careful drivers and, generally, have
greater confidence in their own ability to drive.
I, on the other hand, hate driving with a passion and am really
waiting to have that fatal accident.
During this night, Toby spent a lot of time away from me, avoiding me, and on the way home was less talkative than normal.  Once back at her place she revealed that she was upset with me going out dressed and that she would have preferred that I didn't do it again.  Sure enough, this was the end of dressing in her bed, it was the end of her teasing and things became markedly colder.  I then arranged for her to come back and meet my mother, we had gone round to her mother's a few times already by that point.  She agreed.  When we went she was ill, and I was concerned for her, and when we were at my mother's she was so ill that she couldn't leave the bed in the morning (we didn't share a bed at this point) and eventually we had to cut the visit short and go back to her place.  On the three hour journey home she became progressively worse, running a high temperature and looking like she was going to be sick and slowly losing consciousness.  It was at this point that Toby revealed that she had got herself so drunk the night before we had gone to my mother's that she thought she might have alcohol poisoning, she had had this before so she knew what it felt like.  This much turned out to be true.  I asked her if it was because she was nervous at meeting my mother and Toby replied that it was not, it was simply something she had done with her friends and something that meant she was more likely to cheat on me.  I asked if she had, she said not, I believed her and then she got upset that I would believe her.

This is the sort of thing I imagined when
Toby said I should wear dresses more
often and complimented my legs.
We'll be honest, I don't have legs
this nice.
All of this led to the first time that we split up, I reasoned that I would function better as a friend than I would as a boyfriend, I was prepared to avoid dressing at this stage but recognised enough that I wanted to stay close to the person who had brought that part of me to the surface.  What followed were a series of errors of judgement on my part, we got back together after she had slept with her ex in the meantime and there were other occasions where I was dressed, but these were not the same.  Toby was not happy with my dressing nor was she really up for the kinks she had enjoyed at the beginning and it was obvious that she was looking elsewhere to get her 'fix' of these.  She lived vicariously through other people who were doing what she wanted to do and made it clear that she didn't really want to share that aspect of her life with me any more.  There was no pretence that this was for my benefit.


Toby became 'bored' by me and said so, alleging that I had a boring voice, a grey life and was just not an interesting person.  I was too organised, I wouldn't 'drive a motorbike into a lake', which I suppose is true.  I know that I wasn't right for her, I know that Toby would never have been happy with me, and I know that my passivity toward the end was the most annoying behaviour that could ever be used.  I know that I asked too much from her, I expected more than I could reasonably expect given Toby's issues and past.  I also know that I was always waiting to go back to how things were in the beginning.  I am still unclear on what changed at the beginning and why it was that the dressing became the issue it did, but I know that it did and I know that it drove a wedge between us.  I don't regret the relationship ending but I do regret the fact that I made myself as vulnerable as I did without some form of insurance.  That is, I do regret not embracing the dressing and the compliments when I had them.  Perhaps if I had, if I had taken the opportunity to dress without being forced, then things would have been different.  I don't think we would have remained together, we weren't right for each other, but I may have had a friend who would help me dress and keep offering compliments, someone who not only knew my tendencies but would be able to support me with them.

I guess the whole thing is an example of something that has plagued me.  I had the opportunity to safely embrace my transvestism in a supportive environment and, rather than embrace it, I pushed it away as hard as I could.  I was embarrassed, I worried about the consequences and I was concerned about the religious implications and these selfish concerns overwhelmed the kindness that was being shown me.

Mid-way through the relationship after the above break-up Toby held me down and had her younger sister shave my legs from half way down my calves to my feet because I was going on holiday with two girls I had liked the look of back in University.  That was part of what made me stick around - the occasional bit of domination and bondage.  I also quite liked the feeling of my legs being smooth and without hair.  As usual, I over-egged the pudding and asked if I should shave my whole legs, completely missing the point of what had happened at Toby's Mum's house.  She only didn't go on the holiday herself because I was hardly a 'good time' person.  This blog stands as testament, I think, to the fact that I find being positive over a long period virtually impossible.

About as masculine as I look shaving.  Not
that pretty though.
Also, I told Toby how much I didn't want to be checking http://www.fictionmania.tv/ and http://www.sticky-site.com/ so much and she did try to help me give them up too.  It didn't work, I now check them irregularly whilst looking into self-hypnosis, guided masturbation and other pretty dark and dank corners of conditional sexual pornography.  I'm not really in a healthy place.  Anyway, yes, I proved about as able to give up these addictions as Toby was of giving up smoking.  She said she'd do it for me, and I guess my failure to do anything substantial, or indeed anything at all, for her meant that she didn't really feel any compunction to keep that going.  I over-reacted to her smoking and that led to more arguments and stupid moods.  Basically, I behaved like a complete tool.  I know that Sara, for example, has been able to embrace and enjoy the fact that her partner sees other men.  I guess I gave the same sort of feeling to Toby.  Thing is, I don't think I could cope with that kind of thing.  I'm selfish and territorial.  It's slightly ridiculous that I am as territorial as I am because I completely lack the wherewithal to do anything about it!

The razor was a pink one that Toby deliberately left for
me.  The mini-skirt I wore afterwards was a gift from
her too.  As was the nightgown I wore at her place.
After we split up for the final time I did shave my legs totally.  It was in a long break from work and I obsessively wore trousers despite it being a warm summer that year, 2005, and I combined it with shaving my face completely too.  It was after doing this, and taking pictures of myself with my phone, that I revealed to Caroline what was going on too.  I digress.  The point is that I recognised the role of my dressing in ending the relationship with Toby and felt, at the time, that she was 'the one', so it was pretty upsetting.  And yet, despite that, I actually increased my dressing and went further than I had ever been before.  It seems that the more problems my addiction causes the more addicted to it I become and the greater the lengths I will go to in service of it!

I'm not really certain what purpose these entries serve, but perhaps they have been cathartic.

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