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Archive for January, 2010

Today my wife, daughter and I went to the mall.  My daughter’s birthday is tomorrow and she wanted a second pair of earrings.

We parked outside Macy’s.  Five minutes later we were in the store and walking through the men’s section. My wife gravitates to a pink button-up shirt and starts fawning over it.  It’s a men’s shirt, remember, a fact I point out to her.

“So?’ she says. “Women can wear men’s clothes.  Sometimes they’re more comfortable.”

Forgive my language, but that pissed me off.

I’m forbidden from talking about my crossdressing, from even hinting at it or mentioning anything that could offend my wife about it (which is everything).  So I bite my tongue and take the blow squarely on the chin, because I can’t defend myself against it or fight back in any way.  I can’t say “that’s why I like wearing skirts”, or anything like it.

It hurt, more than anything she’s said to me recently.

So what do I do about it? Do I dwell on it, let it simmer and burn inside of me?  Because that’s what happens when we bury our feelings.

Do I talk to her about it?  Not right now I don’t.  She can’t talk about this with me.  She says she wants to understand it, but she can’t hear anything from me. I understand that.

No.  The only thing that will make me feel better is to let it go.

I know why she has the blocks she has.  I know why she can’t talk about it with me.  I don’t have to like it, but I can’t fault her for it. I have to forgive her, or it will eat me alive.

She doesn’t realize that she’s hurt me.  It doesn’t occur to her that what she said could possibly cause me as much pain as it did. She doesn’t know her words stabbed me like knives.

I can talk about it here, or with my sisters on-line who support me and have been better friends to me than any one I know personally. I can hope the topic comes up in our couples therapy next Wednesday.

Her hurtful words come near the tail end of a depressing weekend, but they would have hurt in any other case.  She admits to the double-standard, but I don’t think she realizes the extent to which she contributes to it.

Tomorrow is an underdressing day.  Tomorrow I return a pretty blouse that doesn’t fit, and try to find the next size up.  Tonight I can talk to my sisters on-line, and feel a little peace from that.

I forgive my wife for the pain she caused me.  I know she didn’t realize she did it.  The pain diminishes.

Another fire through which I have been carried.

-Dianna Rose

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Last Saturday, my wife went out for the evening with her brother.  I stayed home, because my kids each a friend over and because my wife needed some time away to cut loose.  She often goes out with her brother, which I encourage because for years they were not close at all.

Now, I was a little hurt that she wanted to go out with him but I couldn’t join, partly because the night before she had been complaining about being bored, so I offered to take her out anywhere she wanted.  I even offered to take her dancing, which is something I never do.

We didn’t go out.  What she needed was to escape for a while, and that meant escape from me.  I make her uncomfortable, remember, because I like to wear women’s clothes.

So There I was on Saturday, feeling a little lonely and sorry for myself.  I figured I’d peruse the boards at crossdressers.com and see what people were talking about, and welcome any new members.  I like to welcome the newbies and try to make them feel at home, because many are new to this, and many are confused about themselves.  I try to make them comfortable when they walk in the door.  I’m not alone.  Several of the ladies (CD/TG and GG both) offer this welcome.

One of the new members that night was a GG who signed up because her husband had just come out to her, didn’t have a computer (she’s in the military and is stationed away from home for a while), and she wanted to start gathering advice for him.

She signed up to cd.com solely to support her husband’s crossdressing!  I thought that the most wonderful gesture a wife could make for her husband, and I hated both of them for it.

Yup…I was jealous.  Here was this wonderful, super-supportive wife doing research for her husband to satisfy his crossdressing, while my wife was out escaping from mine.

But, God hates this kind of jealousy, and he set a seed in my heard to supplant it.  I offered this supportive wife the hand of friendship, sending her a private message telling her how wonderful she was and how blessed her husband is to have her there for him.

Well, let me tell you, we had a wonderful post-to-post conversation that night.  Before I knew it, my wife was walking in the door.  Time had flown, and my loneliness and hurt had utterly disappeared.

Gift #1.

By the way, this GG has made friends all across the boards at CD.com.  She’s so open and pleasant and nice that it’s impossible not to be friends with her.

Fast-forward to yesterday, Wednesday.  My wife has her appointment with her therapist (for her anxiety issues and self-realizations) later that morning.  Now, on these days she wakes up nervous and anxious, because therapy stirs the pot.  We talk, and she tells me that on Saturday she had told her brother everything about us—everything, she stresses.

Yes, she told him about me.  No, I had no clue, because when we were over at his house for football Sunday (the day after she told him), he didn’t act any differently toward me than he always does.  She told him I like to wear women’s clothes, and his response was, essentially, “So?”

I think it threw my wife a little, because he was the first person she told about me (she’s told two others) who didn’t think it was bizarre.  His open-minded nature soothed some of her anxieties about me.  Not all of them, and there’s certainly a long way to go yet, but she now sees me as just a little bit less of a monster than she did before.

Gift #2.

I had told my wife some time ago that if she decided she wanted to tell people about me, I was cool with that, so I wasn’t upset at all that she told her brother.  I told her I’m not the one ashamed of what I do or who I am, she is, so if it helps her to talk about it with people, she should.

I’m now “out” to five people (not including my wife, or any of my on-line sisters and brothers), two of which are counselors, one of whom has been working with the LGBT community for two decades.  The others, my wife told.

But I’m okay with that.

Thank you, God, for your gifts of an open-minded brother-in-law, and a GG who not only supports her husband, but has support enough to spare for the rest of us.  You are an amazing Parent!

-Dianna Rose

PS – here’s how supportive this GG is.  Part of our conversation was about nylons, and how she hates them, like most GGs apparently do. I told her I loved them and would wear them 24/7 if I could.  We joked about it, and she said that after she gets out of the military she’ll send me all of her nylons that don’t have holes in them.

Sure she’s joking, but just hearing those words made my night.  🙂

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For some reason, the thought of me going out with the local SISTERS group was causing my wife some intense anxiety and pressure. So I took it off the table for the next six months. Anxiety relieved…hers, anyway.

I was really hoping 2010 was going to be my year for getting out en femme for the first time, but it begins to look as if that’s not going to happen. Will it ever? God promised me it would, but clearly I’m going to have to wait for His timing.  Well, isn’t that always true anyway?  🙂

I’m not a little bummed about it. My only hope is that with this pressure off her, my wife will come to accept me a little sooner. I have my doubts about that too.

I can foresee her becoming equally anxious now about some other aspect of my crossdressing. Am I going to have to keep taking things off the table to keep the pressure off? Will I end up with nothing?

She’s going to make me choose between my crossdressing and our marriage, I think. A life without femme will kill me, I know.

What would you do in my place? Please comment.

-Dianna

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I have four Bible verses today.  The relationship is pretty apparent:

Luke 2:10-11:  But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ[a] the Lord.”

JESUS in Luke 9:48: “Whosoever shall receive this child in my name receiveth me: and whosoever shall receive me receiveth him that sent me: for he that is least among you all, the same shall be great.” .

Gal. 4:4-7: But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to ransom those under the law, so that we might receive adoption. As proof that you are children, God sent the spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, “Abba, Father!” So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.

2 Corinthians 5:17: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!


The Christmas season always gets me thinking about children, because of the special child whose birth we celebrate.  Yes, I know the holiday was a few weeks ago.  Does that mean we must stop celebrating the greatest gift ever given?  I, for one, celebrate Christmas all year long, by constantly remembering what it was that our Parent did for us in sending His son to pay for our sins.  We can mark that invoice “Paid in full”, and all we have to do is believe in Him, and love Him.  He already love us–you can bank on that.

As parents, we love our children – unconditionally and without price or payment. (Okay, for the sake or realism I will state that this is not always the case, but it should be). We never stop loving them, no matter the mistakes they make, no matter their failings or successes. A good parent loves her or his child. Period.

How can we ever think our Parent doesn’t love us?  Yet people do, all the time:

“I’ve done bad things.  God can’t possibly love me.  I don’t deserve love.”

“There are people who are so much more needy than I.  God doesn’t have time to love me.”

“I never see any proof that God loves me, so He must hate me.”

…and so on.

God became flesh so that He could suffer for us!  God sent His only child to die for us! Think of it…that tiny baby, lying on a bed of straw, would grow up solely so that God could prove His love for us. What child deserves that fate?  None.  But God gave us that gift anyway. Yes, gift. He did it to show us He loves us, by becoming one of us, but not so He could feel our pain.  He feels that every moment of every day of our lives–He knows us better than we know ourselves, how can He not already know pain?  No, He did it so that we could see that He feels our pain.  So that we could know the depth of His love for us.

And if our Parent loves us, how can we think He doesn’t want what’s best for us?  How can we imagine He won’t take care of us, if we ask Him to?

When our children are too young to fend for themselves we fend for them. When they are frightened we soothe them. When hungry we feed them. When cold we warm, when lost we search until we find. WE–the parents–do these things, and our children trust us implicitly. They don’t worry about where the food is coming from or how we obtain it. They don’t think about the cost of heating or the roof over their head. They know we’ll always give them a hug after a bad dream, hold them until the fear subsides. They know we would search the planet over to find them.

We ALL were young once. Not one of us was born old (even if some days we might feel like it) 🙂

So when did we stop trusting our Parent to care for us?

We grew up, started fending for ourselves with regard to our worldly needs.  We soothe ourselves when we’re stressed, we calm ourselves after nightmares.  Over time, we get used to doing things for ourselves…to the point that we forget we have a Parent to whom we can always turn.

We let our children grow up.  We let them make mistakes so they will learn.  We allow them to make their own choices and follow their own paths, but we don’t turn them down when they ask for our help, or our comfort, or our advice.  We give as freely all their adult lives as we did their youth, with one difference: we wait for them to ask.

That’s not saying we don’t offer advice or ideas or suggestions, or tell them first that we love them, but we wait for them top decide to come to us for most things.

God still loves us.  He still speaks to us, even if we are too busy or stressed or lost to hear.  But He waits for us to ask Him for help.  We must be as children again, and trust our Parent to give us what we need, to hold us when we’re scared, to feed us when we’re hungry.

So the next time you’re feeling down, or overburdened, or lost or scared, ask your Parent for help, or guidance, or advice, or love.  He gives it freely and without price, because the price was already paid.

Go ahead.  Ask.  And then Trust Him to deliver.  It may not be the package for which you were hoping, but it’ll always be the one you need. Our Parent loves us more than we can comprehend.

Peace,

-Dianna

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God does give us hope

On Saturday, I had a one-on-one appointment with our marriage counselor, a wonderful woman who has been working with the LGBT community for twenty years.

Talking with her alone was an incredibly freeing experience, since I was able to talk about things I can’t mention when my wife and I see her together.  My wife’s anxieties prevent her from wanting to hear or know anything about my crossdressing, so I am frequently brought up against roadblocks in our sessions–“no, can’t talk about that or it might cause an anxiety attack.” “Oh, that topic would lead down this road and she can’t go there right now”–that sort of thing.

But for the first time in my life I was able to tell another soul about me.  My history, my fears, desires, thoughts, feelings.  I was amazingly comfortable speaking openly–which to me is a further sign that I really am pretty okay with who I am. And now our counselor has a better idea of who I am–that can only help her to sort through the miasma of our marriage.  My wife has her own one-on-one appointment in a little over a week.  I hope she will be as open about her fears and wants, so that our therapist has all the information she needs to start effecting a solution.

I won’t go into the details of the topics on which we spoke, but out therapist gave me hope, in a measure I haven’t felt for a long time.  Even something as mundane as closet space–completely out of the question before–now seems no longer out of reach.

One of the last things she asked me was my femme name, and she is now the only other human besides myself who knows both sides of me.  It is a lifted weight.

God frequently works through people–that is a given.  He has definitely worked through my counselor to restore my Hope, and in doing so He has strengthened my faith.  How can we not love a Parent who loves us so much?

One final happy note…when I told my counselor my femme name–Dianna Faith Rose–she said “That’s a pretty name.”  That made me feel pretty, and was a wonderfully uplifting end to our session.  She is good, our counselor.  I thank God for putting me in the right place at the right time in the right frame of mind to find her.

-Dianna Faith Rose

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