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Recently my wife had surgery which has immobilized her considerably. As such I have taken over her responsibilities around the house. I carry them out willingly and as lovingly as I know how, yet there is a shadow of sadness. I am dressed as my male self.
“Why be sad?* I ask myself. “You are doing housewifey duties. This is what being a traditional housewife is like, right?”
One would think so, yet I am frustrated; not by the duties themselves. I am glad to serve my wife this way. The frustration is created by the reality that my wife and any one visiting her at the time I am busy with these responsibilities sees a man, a husband, caring for his recovering wife. And true to their reality (and mine also) that is what I am and that is what is happening at that time.
I have thought about this, “Would that same sadness be there if I were dressed as my femme self; appropriately underdressed, a denim skirt or jumper, a nice sweater (it’s sweater weather here. I love sweaters) nice flats, hair tied back in a pony tail, light make up etc?”
Yes & no, but with a stronger no. Why? Because (and this is my greatest frustration with dressing as a woman) I understand under all the outward pretence I am but a man dressed as a woman. That is how my wife and others see me; that is what they expect from me. So even if they would accept my crossdressing that doesn’t mean they understand and accept my womanhood; the fact that at my core, like them, I also am a woman.
It is this deep sense of personal female identity that leads me to conclude that I am trans woman. Dressing as a woman is nice. It is stress relieving. I love it and would dress so much more if I were single. Yet resorting simply to dressing is but another closet for me.
Doing traditional woman’s duties is satisfying for me. My wife commends me in keeping a tidier kitchen than most women she knows. Yes, she knows that I have a strong feminine side. We have discussed this aspect of who I am, yet I have not come right out and said plainly, “I am a woman in my heart.”
I guess my purpose in writing this is to ask if experiences like these are normal precursors on the journey to finally fully coming out, ultimately leading to a certain level of transition to an authentic life as my female self.
Thank you all for being here for answers in this life of conundrums.
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