|Yeah, kinda like this.|
The cowardice is easier to explain. Twice in this blog, recently, I have said that things feel 'right' when I do things. I have explained at length how wearing full briefs tops wearing boxers; how I enjoy the feeling of a camisole on my upper body so much that I have bought four of them. I have shared how a feminine watch with white leather straps and a pink face feels more like my own watch than the one that I have worn almost consistently since 2008 (and it feels very much like my watch, let me tell you). And, in both cases, the very sage advice has been "go you, you have discovered something that makes you feel good that you enjoy - why not do that more and embrace it?" And, again in both cases, I have immediately demurred, dissembled and then moved on from trying to do it more. Out of fear more than anything, I fear being so at home with myself that I would likely challenge others. I mean, what I should do is broach it with Tilly - say I'll wear camisoles for example, but promise that I shall clean and dry them and make sure she doesn't have to really see them but explain that I like wearing them and it's not sexual nor the start of me transitioning. Or the watch. I mean, for Heaven's sake, I can't see how that could be anything other than wearing a watch. Tilly doesn't even wear one!
Then there's the parenting thing.
|Ah yes, swimming underwater. I miss doing this, I'm a bit|
too tall these days. Oh, and my hair has always been too
short. And, well, I'm male.
Yeah, there's that.
We went with some friends whose parenting methods usually get Tilly and I bitching afterward. And I was already in a spiky mood.
But I know (from experience) that this is not forgotten and that it will remain. It will remain in the fear that the Boy will carry of my temper, the feeling that it is his fault and that somehow he could have acted differently. I am recreating the worst parts of my youth for my Boy and I am doing it with my eyes open. I am doing it because I can't stop. I am doing it because, fundamentally, I am a coward and so I am piling stress on myself in a place where there is no stress and where I am actually happy.
So, yeah, a confession.