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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.
Kindly,
Charlene Victoria
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There are no words I can say but I have been there and I know…
Miriya
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Miriya, thank you for your reply. A picture is worth a thousand words we are told.
Your picture has brought a special sense of comfort to my heart that you are understanding and accepting me as the woman I am. That is so helpful. Thank you.
Oh how I wish this were my moment by moment reality.
Kindly,
Charlene.
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It so helps me to do the “housework “ in femme it is when I truly feel like the woman I am on the inside and playing some music in the background makes it all go by much nicer hugs to one and all
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Charlene, what we all seem to go through, isn’t something as simple as picking what TV show to watch. You pick up the remote, scan the listing, and make a pick. No, this is much bigger, a lot more knowledge, research, understanding, and planning, needs to be brought into the mix. And as all that comes together, there will undoubtedly be some degree of vacillating back and forth. Akin in many ways from a child going from one stage of life to another.
I see that in my sons. One day they can do the dumbest things, as they did as a little boy, the next day they can work trough a problem with the logical thinking that astounds me. But in the end, under the hood, we are all human. Being human is our common denominator. Remember, factor to the least common denominator. At least that’s what the math teacher said.
So, I’m good with me. Hey, some have a sports car body, some have a minivan; but underneath, they all have an engine. They get you from point A in life, to point B. Life is short, and I wanna just be happy and dance the dance of life…..
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