47 years later…
My wife walked in on me 5 years into our marriage. At the time, I was convinced that I was “just a transvestite, make that, cross-dresser,” since the other has negative connotations. All I knew was that I had been at it since I was nine and the sure cure, marriage, hadn’t worked. So didn’t make any promises that I’d never do it again. I knew I couldn’t stop.
After a discussion, she settled on, “Do it if you must, but don’t let me see it.” Her words. It boiled down to that if I went in the bedroom and closed the door, she wouldn’t come in without knocking and I could do what ever I needed to in the bedroom only.
The first of many compromises. Each one a little less restrictive. Slowly, but surely, I gain more freedom to express my feminine side. I took nearly 30 years of incremental gains to reach a point of freedom to dress as I wanted anytime I wanted at home and to be able to come and go en femme. During that time, I determined that I was indeed transgendered, but that I’d never really pursue transition. Though I’d been fantasizing about how to manage a self-medicated HRT to grow breasts. There weren’t many options for transgendered treatment in those days.
Finally, after my kids have grown, and my grandkids have reached adulthood, I’m on HRT. My wife has come to a point of realizing that I’m still the person she married, just not the person she thought she married.
How did I make it all work? I went out of my way to see her needs were met. I slowly introduced my feminine nature into seeing to those needs. When she balked at a change I wanted to make, I held off and poured on the good husband process.
It wasn’t until my brother turned up with prostate cancer (my father had prostate cancer listed as his cause of death) that I found the excuse I needed to go on testosterone blockers. prostate cancer feeds on testosterone, blockers limit the available testosterone.
OK, so I cheated a little. Blockers don’t really prevent prostate cancer. The best you can get out of it is to slow the progression if you get it. Then I pointed out that with the blockers I was halfway to HRT. She allowed that since it would take up to five years for there to be a real change, she’d be OK with it.
So, I’m two and a half years into HRT 47 years after the first confrontation. Don’t let me see it, to open dressing and HRT. Baby steps the whole way.
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