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, 10 January 2016


I've recorded the bad and the ugly, now the unexpectedly good.

Doctor, doctor, I think I'm Genderqueer?

How can you tell?

I've been listening to the Tron: Legacy  soundtrack on repeat pretty mush since finding it by accident last weekend. Never seen the film, saw the original and wanted to see this but it was 2010 and there was a Boy and stuff happened. On Thursday I was alone on the evening, things were not good, I vomited about it to Tilly on Friday. It all came out, everything, in a splurge of random invective and self-hatred. I think I took Tilly aback. Mostly because I turned everything on me, the whole lot: I blamed myself (I do, despite appearances on here) and basically went on about how much I hated myself for my failings and flaws and the fact that I had no clue in what direction to move.

I shared my fear of rejection, which runs pretty fucking deep, and my fear of things happening that I want. I wanted stability and reasoned back when 14 that my family was pretty good, actually, and that I would not be that useless teen that complained about their family. I think the exact line went "Thank You, God, for giving me a family when so many have to deal with divorce and absent parents." It was one week before my father left. I wanted a girlfriend who was devoted to me. And I got one in University. It was cloying and sad, she was not for me and I wasn't for her, but she wouldn't see that. I had to leave. I broke up with her. And, in so doing, did the one thing I had promised myself that I never would: I hurt someone in a relationship by, essentially, being my father. I wanted an MA, so I went and got one, but I discovered in the process that the perpetual student life was not for me, something I had wanted since childhood. I wanted a job, I got one, and got abused by my boss to the point where I still get the sweats from not working hard enough. I wanted my Mad-Ex and gutted it, being the bastard to her ex and then being bastarded in return. It was a fucking pattern that I actually knew before getting involved and got involved anyway. I saw it coming and ignored it and, by seeing it coming, hastened it coming.

Population: everyone who ever tried anything once.

But mostly I'm scared to go there. And, no, getting rejected
was always worse than I feared.
In short, with these random examples, whenever I get anything I want I find out that a) it's ruined and I am hurt and b) it's not what I needed.

I explained this to Tilly - I cannot ask for what I want because I am scared shitless that if I do and I get it then something terrible will happen. It's why I rant on here and froth at the mouth rather than talking to people IRL about things.

I shared that I was bummed about the lack of any actual progress since the Discussion, and that I had checked whither future compromise only to find that all compromises had already been made. Tilly asked what I wanted, and then realised, the penny dropped. I agreed, I had no clue where I wanted to go because I had purposely not considered it that way for fear of the above happening. She thought about it for a bit. In the morning, yesterday, she came down from bed and started talking back. She wanted me to know that the me she loved was the me I was, not an invention, and no, she didn't know who that was entirely, but she wanted to. She said that it was stupid to forbid me to get a girly watch, if that was me, then she ought to be embracing it. No, she didn't want to see me dressed, but accepted that I hadn't actually asked for that. Unbidden, she remarked that my support for her Anxiety was more than she expected, that she wanted to do the same for me. We were both learning. She was trying, she wanted to try more. She wanted me to be me, even if I didn't like what I discovered about myself, it was me she wanted to get to know.

Because why the Hell not?
And I was shocked, glad and happy, but shocked. Where did this come from?

Then, that night, she asked and I agreed. Today we have hugged, kissed, shared moments and actually behaved a little more like I thought married couples do. And we both have got work done. And looked after the children. And done chores and and and.

I'm not complaining, quite the contrary. After everything I've written on here I think this has to be one of the most positive things I have typed. I'm guarded, but maybe this is the turning point. Maybe. I've been somewhere close to here before and it didn't go anywhere. And there you have it. Thought you ought to know.

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!