Sarahjanus's Blog

December 7, 2010

Under-dressed and wore women’s jeans shopping

I wrote a quick post this morning out of frustration. I cannot convey to anyone other than those who also dress, the feeling of peace and comfort that I am imbued with, when I dress. This morning started as a near perfect day. The house emptied and I dressed. I wore pantyhose under the leggings because it is winter here and my feet seem to feel warmer in shoes with nylons, than without.

The sweater top was clinging to me. The wide belt at the waist was snug around me. I felt like I was securely wrapped in my own clothes. Not to mention, the snugness of the bra and the light weight of the forms. I put on a pair of heels. Even for walking about the house I wanted the pleasure of the heels rather than the comfort of the flats.

I was the complete picture, truly at home in clothes that match how I feel. I began the tedious task of sorting through e-mail and either saving it or disposing of it. That’s where I was when I was summonsed to be the taxi again.

I wrote the short post and went off to change. Now, I’m sure there are many cross-dressers out there who saw the option before I did, so I’ll let you have your “told you so”. I put away most of the outfit. It’s in a drawer rather than its storage box because I will be back into it tomorrow. As I was about to peel off the nylons, the penny finally dropped. Why am I not under-dressing? So I left the bright red panties with the bows, on. I left the nylons on, and I took out my women’s jeans to wear over them. I grabbed a pair of gender neutral runners and was out the door before I could take it a step too far.

I gathered up the last child standing and off we went to comparison shop for something he is intending to buy. We shopped through 4 big box stores including a Walmart before we returned home. I don’t think a single person took note of the jeans in any way, shape or form. I know this isn’t much to mention but it does show where my mind is going as my dressing progresses. I get more and more comfortable with female attire and accoutrements, so I very gently push the boundaries of where I am prepared to wear them.

I would have been in trouble today if my wife had decided that I needed to bring the last child standing to lunch. She would have picked off the jeans in a mille-second and I would have been on the hook for an explanation that doesn’t exist.

I will have to try the jeans again with a camisole and/or bra under the coat to complete the effort and, maybe the pants shoes that I have and have never worn.

My exam is over, my course is over, and my program is complete. I’m a bit lost. The continuing education has been a part of my life for some time and has always been present during my retirement. I have always had a pile of textbooks that need to be read, posts that need to be written for discussion boards and so on. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the extra time in every day.

There are some sharp rocks ahead in the river that is my life. Next week, all of the children (and their wives, significant others, interest of the moment and children) arrive home for the Christmas holiday. Not only will the peace and tranquility of the house be shattered on a never-before-seen level, but the chance of every-one being out at the same time, providing me with an opportunity to dress, is infinitesimal. It is so small that it counts for nothing. And, there is not going to be an opportunity for me to gather up my clothes and flee for a few hours. People will be arriving and leaving from next week until after the New Year.

Once the New Year is over, I have only a few weeks of regular absences of the last child standing before he is home during the day full-time and working evenings and weekends. With him home during the day and his mother home in the evening, I don’t see any easy opportunities in the foreseeable future. I can see myself running away on the filmiest of pretexts to get time dressed.

The alternative, of course, is to out myself and establish some time to exist. It’s an option that once was beyond consideration. Now it is a possibility that lives in my thoughts every day. What would my life become? How would I live? Would I find the happiness I am seeking? How destructive would my wife be in her hurt and anger? Can I avoid this forever? Isn’t it inevitable?

I don’t think I can put the genie back in the bottle but I am worried that this is just another of my self-destructive fixations. The therapist that we went to during one of our efforts to understand me said I had a pattern of sabotaging anything that looked like it might produce happiness for me. Apparently I don’t believe that I am entitled to be happy and when happiness appears on the horizon, I do what I can to sink it long before it can arrive. Sucks, but there is a ring of truth to it, I know from long experience that I am afraid to allow myself to be happy because as soon as I do, something nasty happens.

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