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. 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 "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" 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, 7 April 2019

The lie of the land

Not a proper entry, more a repository.

Tilly said I would probably prefer beer to an egg for Easter today, and I was off out to charge the car, I thought about it. No. I don't want anything from her. I told her this on my return. In a previous conversation I explained to Tilly how I am about hugs: they are romantic things and thus I don't hug people that aren't her. She has alleged that I have not been initiating hugs, she's been keeping track (a la my reports previously I note) but she has no idea when I was doing this - especially after I raised my chastity and my deliberate efforts to be more romantic and submissive within that. Of course she doesn't know, she hasn't been keeping track at all, she's reaching. My reasoning for this digression? I'm not sure about hugs now. Now I know that there is no hope, that we are sexually incompatible, I am not sure how to proceed.

On Thursday I researched divorce. It costs £550 to apply. I cannot cite my own behaviour, my Father has pointed out that my cross-dressing would count as unreasonable behaviour and would likely result in Tilly getting the house at least. I'm not sure he's wrong. If it were contested. I checked out counselling to deal with the end of the relationship, it costs £60 a pop - so like my therapy cost - I can't afford that or a divorce. Good to know I guess, it's not like it would change anything, I haven't worn my wedding ring for about three years, we haven't really been married for a long time. Tilly has made that clear over the years.

Saturday, Tilly told me she'd seen a romantic poem about growing old together that she felt summed us up, but she had lost it. She's reaching. I am unclear how one can believe that after all that has been said on the matter over the last fortnight. For reference, she has told me that no outsourcing can take place under this roof - there can be no looking at porn, masturbation, dressing, communication on kink etc under this roof. Naive. Of course I already am. It's my fucking house too. I didn't illuminate her - what she doesn't know won't hurt her (as she said, I disagree) - so I can add that I am a liar to the litany of counts against me. Also, her demands are a little unreasonable in my estimation, so fuck them.

I had an evening off on Friday - Tilly and the children were out until late in the nearby city for the eldest to practice for a national show and for the boys to troop around with Tilly. I watched The Lobster whilst they were out, had a beer, had some me time. Fuck 'em. I liked the film. Over the weekend I have done my best to be helpful around the house and look after the children. Bloody-mindedness, I have some of it. And now I am not working again. I don't care. Can't afford divorce so... death? I dunno. I have looked at rents - there are some apartments for around £400 pcm, if I could find a way of having a car for cheaper than I currently pay I could maybe afford that. I can live off a surprisingly small amount per week. Tilly would have to shop on a weekend. Maybe if I ditch the car? Depends on rail costs to get to work. Hmm.

Why has this taken me so long?

Friday, 5 April 2019

I just read a quote and I liked it

It was in an article about the issues with teaching. A terminally ill woman on a walk said to her recently retired husband, an ex headteacher, that as she faced the end of her life she wished that she could have been his passion.

Powerful stuff. It cuts to the very heart of what teaching does to people. The marking, the planning but most of all the stress expand to fill headspace. And I have been guilty of this for all of my time with Tilly and the children. As Tilly has often pointed out, even this last week, I am very often not present because my head is somewhere else, usually worrying about teaching.

But that isn't what struck me about the quote. No.

I honestly can't imagine Tilly ever wishing that she was my passion. As much as she blames me for all our relationship issues, she is happy with things as they are. Every conversation, every failed compromise, every talk about change... She is happy. She doesn't want physical intimacy. She cannot comprehend any of my quirks or wishes and doesn't want to.

I spoke to my Father. As predicted, he agrees that Tilly is mostly at fault, he pointed out that his recent consultant work with a body looking after the victims of childhood abuse gave him the feeling that Tilly was probably abused as a child given her views on relationships, sex and my role as father. But, equally predictably, he suggested that I should suppress my crossdressing and give up on being submissive. These were not normal and, for all her faults, Tilly was right to cite them as reasons for the breakdown in our relationship. Between those things and our decision to homeschool lay the biggest problems that could be solved. Divorce wasn't an answer. Harsh but honest - traits I inherited from him. My brother got the charisma and charm that turns women's heads. Even Tilly has said that if she were my Father's age and she'd just met him she'd find him attractive and interesting. Many female friends who have met my Father agree. My brother is similar. He was never without a girlfriend except through choice and has always had women swoon over him, still does though he's married, a bit fat, and has two children and loves his wife. Point is, they are considered to be good catches.

I got the other part.

I spoke to my Mother. Turns out that she is kinky - she didn't offer and I didn't ask in what way - and she thinks that I need to do something. In typical ASD logic she argues that all people are secretly kinky and that Tilly and I need therapy because not wanting sex is abnormal and I am too ready to take the blame. My stress is making me awful with the children (my Father was up more recently and confirmed that he thought I was being a shit father to my children). If I am to blame myself for anything it's not being a loving father. She also pointed out that her ability to compromise had meant that she had many sexual partners in her life (and every one kinky in a different way).

I get the ASD and negative self image from my Mother. My brother got her ability to remember things about the people she meets and the ability to accidentally make firm friends with strangers as a result. My Mother's ability to change enough to be approachable without ever changing her core beliefs is my brother's inheritance. I got her unyielding logic and bloody mindedness.

I don't have passion to offer and, as I reflected again talking to my Father, I have never been anyone else's either.

Tuesday, 2 April 2019

We drink together not alone

I have lots to say but now is not the time for details.

Never gonna happen.
Chastity ended in failure, like most of the things I do, because I failed to spot some chafing getting out of hand. Lost my Holder, out of chastity, still not tried to masturbate or orgasm. Which, I think, is fitting. It led to quite an emotional time on Sunday, resulting in me being a monster to the youngest again, because I am shit at dealing with pressure. On the Saturday Tilly and I had sparred because I had asked for a conversation on unfinished discussions from October - I was planning to raise a Female Led Relationship and my chastity, actually discuss what I had learned so far and see what happened after that. Would you believe that I was actually daring to hope that she might join in? Ha!

The sparring was not edifying, she was getting her blows in first because she didn't know what I was going to talk about. Raising how thinking I may be cross-dressing made sex impossible, forever; how much I had been unable to help her and how shit I was at supporting her generally. I was like another child and so on and so forth. You know the deal by now, you could probably sing along. And so we got to Monday. Not trusting myself after a week of firing off randomly I hid in my room and spoke to no one all day. The pressure built. Tilly was upset when I got home, stormy discussions followed.

Never gonna happen.
However, the upshot was that I sort of said "fuck it" and thus followed a full and frank disclosure about my submissiveness and my chastity to Tilly. I explained that I might actually be a submissive and not the switch I had assumed. I explained that I had found out about FLRs and that I would like to look at that. I explained that I had been in chastity for over 50 days and that had helped me look at these parts of myself. That I might be wrong, that I was still learning, that nothing was set in stone. Tilly said she couldn't imagine hitting me - she would laugh, she would feel too self-conscious. I assured her I would do all in my power to help her not feel that way - hitting or no - because if there was anyone she should be able not to feel self-conscious with it would be me. It all seemed positive and good. I was shocked. Dear reader, was this it? Was the worry be careful what you wish for rather than the end of days? We paused. Tilly went to the toilet.

When she returned it was with anger that I had had the space and time to think things through to that level. It was with recriminations that I was forcing her to take on yet more emotional labour and we were already the worst people she knew for that kind of shit. Did I not think she deserved time for work, now wasted and gone due to this discussion, did I believe she didn't deserve some slack because she had a child? Oh, she saw how it was, I could have the time and space to shit about learning about chastity and sex stuff and she was consigned to eking out time that was needed for teh children. I provided nothing, no support, and I was selfish and shit. It... took me aback. |I fired back though, it wasn't fair to accuse me of such things when there wasn't the physical time to offer and marking wasn't time I got - it was work, and we needed the money. Extra marking? I would ditch it all tomorrow, had been trying since 2010 actually, but couldn't because we need the money. Angry silence followed, brimming with resentment. But then snuggles were offered and we went to sleep.

More likely.
I texted Tilly this morning and it was an agonising ten hours before she responded this afternoon. Apparently she hadn't seen the text. I felt sick all day. Stuff kicked off without me knowing, but I was worried that I was staring at the end of days. I had gone into work discussing frankly with Him Upstairs about the potential end of things - how would I cope? But the text was reassuring. This evening, when she got back, she revealed she'd been reading. About subs, about FLRs and such. She had done her homework and, well, no.

No, these were not for her. At all. But me being a submissive was helpful to know. Her anger, her nagging, her lashing out - they stemmed from my submissiveness. She wants something a bit more 'manly' not submissive. Trying an FLR, she said, wouldn't be healthy as she would get very critical, naggy, and resentful whilst my low self-esteem would allow her to do that and get worse as a consequence. Knowing what she now knew, and she thanked me for being honest and open, it explained the problem that we could never quite put our finger on. It wasn't just the cross-dressing - it was the combination of cross-dressing and submission. It was my inability to be the 'manly' man she wanted. That tendency of mine encouraged her worst impulses. I had helped her become a better person over time but at the expense of any adventurousness and desire to experiment. I did not now, nor had I ever, turned her on. She enjoyed sex, but the idea of being 'turned on' is alien to her - it's not how that works. I had kinks, I saw things differently and there was nothing that could be done.

There is, she said, the option of outsourcing, using a pro-domme. Otherwise, she said, it was unfair to me. That's a first, an awareness that it may be unfair to me. She said she realised that I would be suffering, that I always had been, and there was no real way to deal with that. She hadn't read much on out-sourcing beyond seeing it could be an option. She joked that she could pay for a session for my birthday when I said I would be uncomfortable paying for it (something she also said she would have predicted and was the absolutely most me response I could have given). The least attractive option is to end it all. And that, ladies and gentlemen is where we left it.

More another time.