Gender fluidity…how appropriate. It seems it can move like a rushing river…

For anyone who has read anything I’ve posted (thank you), it’s somewhat obvious that things have been moving quickly for me.

As soon as I opened myself to the process (of whatever this is) the rate of self-discovery has been rapid and unsettling.

Living in hiding is stressful. Even if you don’t dress up you are harboring a deep secret. The people closest to you may not know you. What a weight to bear…

1) Terror #1: Was doing a pre-buy inspection on an aircraft located in town for a potential buyer. The hangar was cold so I had to put on a sweater. I warmed up as I worked so I decided to ditch the sweater. As I pulled the sweater up it also pulled my t-shirt up exposing my satin bra. Was very close to being seen by others. I nearly had a panic attack.

2) Terror #2: I finished my aircraft inspection and head home. My amazing daughter (I’m a single dad) was more social than usual and came up to give me a hug. Great! Right? Nope, another panic attack as she put her hand on my shoulder nearly touching my bra strap. What seemed like my fatherly hand making contact with hers (in a touching moment) was really me pinning her hand so it couldn’t move another 1/8 of an inch.

3) Terror #3: My beautiful girlfriend came up to visit me for the weekend. Naturally I am doing a thorough look to make sure no signs of real me are laying around. The deeper you get though the more you need to be diligent covering your tracks. Based on how things went I expect to get found out very soon. She never goes in my walk-in closet. This time she did. I had a long pink wig right behind my door. I moved in instantly to put myself between her and the door, distracted her with a kiss. As I looked over her shoulder, to my horror, I saw an open Amazon box with a bra and breast forms on top of some diving gear. If she turns around and looks I am so screwed. I’m a good kisser so my distraction works and I lure her out of the closet. Next I get all my designed-for-men fetish wear out so I can tie her up and have some kinky fun dressing up. I pull some stuff out of the closet without her seeing. She starts to look at the pile (I own a lot)…I almost have a heart attack. There is a black satin mini-skirt in the pile. I didn’t notice it among the black. Again, I move in and distract her with affection. Once again I am successful. Next time she leaves the room the mini-skirt got stashed in my secret drawer. I also see I left some lip-gloss out on my nightstand behind by my bluetooth speaker. She never saw it. Next we are out for lunch, having a couple of Bellini’s to kick off our day. When I go to pay the bill my makeup appointment card falls out of my wallet right in front of her. She gives it a quick look and my cat-like reflexes scoop it up before her formidable brain can process the words. I think I must subconsciously want to get caught…

We talk a lot. She had mentioned wanting to talk about my fantasies – I managed to make sure that conversation never happened. She also mentioned my manliness a couple of times. I answered sarcastically “oh yeah SUUUUPER manly” and such…only I knew what I was inferring.

4) Terror #4: I sure spent a lot of time worrying that my “situation” will affect my sexual performance. The last thing I want is for my wonderful girlfriend to think something is wrong….and for us to have some kind of conversation about it. I managed to get through the weekend without any real issues….thank God.

5) Terror #5: I really didn’t think this was going where I currently find myself. I was just a kinky kid with a bunch of semi-feminine fetishes, then I was a kinky guy with a crazy sissy fetish, then I became the closet crossdresser, then I wanted to be a woman at least part time in real life. Now, despite being a fairly decent looking guy (I do just fine with women…zero issues there) I find myself looking in the mirror and liking the person inside but really hating looking in the mirror and not seeing the correct person physically. I have experienced a new type of sadness I could very much do without. I don’t think I was ever really comfortable in my own skin – I just fake it well. I somehow think it’s much worse to be uncomfortable in your own skin and actually know why. To not be you is horrible. I almost cried.

So for those of you who ache to be your true self. How do you cope with your reflection? Why is this escalating constantly? Sigh…where does this end?