Up to a point I think we are our own worst enemies. We sometimes make things worse than they need to be.
A few years ago I had shaved my chest while my wife was off visiting grandchildren. I told her that I had done that and that I was a crossdresser. This was sometime after 2018, when I had finally come to the conclusion that I was indeed a crossdresser. Until that moment of clarity I thought I was some freak, pervert – and I constantly dealt with the guilt and shame. I also “knew” I was the only one like this. But enough of that. She answered me back – I always use texting to make my thoughts known to her – she said, yes, I know. You have always been a crossdresser. I think I was too shocked to understand what she really meant.
Since that time I have been up and down about how much I need to hide and how much I need to tell her. This is a constant battle with me. A few weeks ago, I decided I would tell her I wanted to wash some of my “clothes” and would she help me with the machine. She said yes. I told her that I didn’t want to hide them from her. That I wanted to be more upfront about it. I have started wearing panties a few days a week, all day. I put them in the laundry. She has not said a word. So much so I think she is avoiding saying anything to keep from “scaring” me.
It was not my intention to hijack the topic here but reiterate that sometimes maybe the problem is not as big or bad as we think it is.
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