I bought a dress!

I bought a dress!

Okay, some of you are wondering why I make it a big enough deal to title this post with that information.  Here’s why: this is *my first dress*!  The first dress *I* own.

I told you how my wife wants to deny my crossdressing.  She is so far into this denial that she has told me to lie to her about it, so that she can go on trying to see me as her rock, her stability, her reassurance.  She tells me it’s my secret and I should just go on keeping it a secret.

Because I was trying to avert a full-fledged breakdown as I was coming out to her, I told her it was nothing more than an occasional urge to wear women’s clothes–four or five times a year, I said.  I wish I could have told her the truth, but I’m not joking when I said I was trying to avert a real breakdown.  As it was, it was a very near thing, I think.

The truth is that I love thinking of women’s clothes, all the time.  I like appraising other women’s outfits, sometimes wondering if I could pull them off, usually just admiring them.  I love wearing all kinds of feminine clothing–underwear, dresses, skirts, blouses…if it’s even remotely feminine, I’ll try it.  I especially like wearing pantyhose and tights.  There’s just something about the feel and look of them that makes me feel good. Some of you know what I mean.

But I was telling you how my wife wants me to keep it secret.  When I get the urge, she says, I should just take care of it, and she doesn’t need to know, and she doesn’t want to know.  She also feels violated because I had worn her clothes, so I decided this week that A) I’d keep it as secret as I possibly can (I held one secret for twenty-five years, I can hold another), and B) I’d buy my own clothes.

So for the first time ever, I went on-line and ordered a dress.  It’s hot pink, A-line, above the knee, with a wide matching sash that ties in a big bow in the back.  *Very* feminine.  I also ordered a pink bra and black panties, and berry-colored tights.  I’m nervous and excited about doing it, and hope the dress fits well and looks good.  I picked up some pink lipstick, too, even though I’m still figuring out makeup.  The only thing missing, and I hope it’s a good choice for the outfit, is silver pumps.  I’m on a quest for silver heels, girls!  🙂

I have no idea yet where or how I’ll hide these from my wife, but I will.  I’m hoping I’ll have a chance to wear it soon after I get it, but I’m putting my trust in God and awaiting His timing. If He wants me to wear the dress, He’ll give me the opportunity.  If all goes well, I may have two days coming up that I can spend in the dress–from 8:30 in the morning until 3:00 in the afternoon.  Please, Lord, let that happen!

We were watching television yesterday, and a show was on where they were doing shoe makeovers.  You know, pull women off the street, tell them their footwear is lousy, and put them in more fashionable shoes.  Lot of heels, lot of boots–both of which I love.

Naturally we were commenting on which ones we liked,  which ones we thought worked and which ones just didn’t. Which ones I thought would look hot on her. She stopped in the middle and asked, “You mean on me, right?  You’re thinking about them on me not you, right?”

Remember that she needs constant reassurance that I’m still her rock, her foundation, right? Remember that she asked me to lie to her about my dressing and desires?

So I reassured her, told her I didn’t think about wearing shoes or anything like that.

Well, darling, that’s not entirely true. I *love* looking at shoes, I do like wearing heels, and yes, dear, I *can* walk in them. But here’s the thing:  I don’t think about wearing them all the time.  Usually, I’m just admiring and appreciating a sexy shoe or a hot boot.  I don’t actively imagine myself wearing every pair of heels I see.  Do you?  Can I not just look and say “Those are sexy”, without wanting to try them on?

Okay, some people have a shoe fetish and need to try on every pair they see.  That’s not how I roll, though.  I just like to admire.  A pretty or sexy shoe on a well-turned ankle is like art to me.  Do you need to possess every great painting you admire?  Don’t you just like to look at it, follow the brush strokes, let the colors and patterns release the serotonin and make you feel just plain good?

Anyway, that’s me.  Yes, I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to wear a dress or a pair of boots or some sexy tights…but *not* all the time.  I *do* like to look and appreciate and admire, nearly all the time.

“Come Unto Me, All Ye Who Labor and Are Heavy Laden, and I Will Give You Rest” -Matthew 11:28

God’s peace,

-Dianna

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