Crossdressing Thoughts & Reflections - The Wife

I discovered "The Wife" via a comment she left on another blog.  Then, as I always do, I followed the links to her site and found this fabulous website/blog authored by the wife, The Wife, of a crossdresser.

I don't know her name, where she lives, or what she looks like.  She does have a way to contact her via her site, so I asked her if she would like to write something for this series of guest posts.  What she wrote is simply beautiful and I have got to believe that many of you will read it and just wish it was written by your own wife or girlfriend.  Maybe print it out and just leave it on the kitchen counter?  If anyone is brave enough to do that, leave us a comment!

Since I don't have a picture of The Wife, I lifted this from her FAQ:

What do you and your husband look like?

Well, I’m a reasonably attractive curvy girl with brown hair, brown eyes, and fairly large tracts of land.  (And remarkably straight teeth if I do say so myself. lol) I’m a bit of a tomboy, so I tend towards jeans or comfy pants and a tee shirt or nice blouse.  I don’t wear a lot of makeup (I had a ‘competitive’ phase where I tried to out-girl him and it failed miserably) and I generally wear my hair in a simple ponytail.

My sweetie is smaller than I am, a delicately made little thing (and don’t think that hasn’t caused some grief over the years, let me tell you) who “can pass” for the most part.  His lady-self has a good selection of wigs, so the color and style changes day to day, but the natural hair color is dark brown and the natural eyes come in a very pretty shade of grey-blue, if I do say so myself.  His style when not dressed up coincides with my own – shirts and jeans – but Melanie tends towards the emo or gothic look when going out on the town.

Although she writes this from purely the view of the wife of a crossdresser, I do believe that all of our readers will enjoy this post and that includes spouses, crossdressers living with spouses, and transsexuals living with spouses.

The Wife and I share a philosphy.  In her words:

"I’m not big into policing people, so the comments won’t be moderated too stringently.  All I ask is that you respect one another and don’t be a jerk.  We’re all people here – have some dignity and respect, folks."

 - Calie 

As I sit here, my sick baby breathing snottily beside me, I'm attempting to muse on the state of crossdressing and being married to a crossdresser.  You'll have to forgive me for my informal tone, but I'm finding the idea of delving any deeper than I normally do on my own blog somewhat difficult.  I know that may seem strange to you, but in my family crossdressing is a natural part of life.  It just is.

Once upon a time crossdressing was dramatic and full of tension - the mere act of bringing up crossdressing enough to ruin a night or cause a fight - but now it's no more exciting or stressful than choosing what to eat at a given meal.  Sometimes there are special occasions - Halloween, for example, is like crossdressing Christmas for my husband - but in general his choice to wear a skirt, to apply makeup, to shave his beard and go from HE to SHE is just that... a choice.  A fancy.  A whim.  We've reached a point in our relationship where he knows that he can wear a skirt all week if he wants and not only will I not be bothered by it, I view it as commonplace.

There are limits, of course.  Rules.  Structure to our choices, outer boundaries to what and when and where, but generally he's willing to live within these loose confines in order to shed his masculine persona and don the girl he is inside.  It took a great deal of struggle to reach this place of equanimity. Many evenings were spent hand-in-hand with heightened emotions, discussing, debating, approaching and retreating, and compromising.  

Compromising.
 

Compromising.

Some folks feel that the state of compromising with your spouse once you've discovered that you're a crossdresser or transgender is the same as denying who you truly are and, after so many years of conforming to fit society's standards of what is "right", they are unwilling to forgo even the idea of eyeliner or underwear.  It is a battle for them, the right to shout proud and loud, "THIS IS WHO I AM!  DEAL WITH IT!".

I can't say whether that is true or not for most crossdressers or transgendered individuals.  All I can speak with authority on is my own family and in my family compromise is not a dirty word, it is how we live and how we love and how we show our respect and devotion to one another.  I respect my husband's need to wear a bra and stuff it with realistic silicon breasts and spend hundreds of dollars in clothing that society says he shouldn't be wearing.  I respect that these acts make her feel more whole, make her feel attractive, make her feel more herself.  And she respects my desire for a break from my wife and the fact that I am not primarily a lesbian.  She knows that when I say that I need my husband then it's time for the skirt to go in the hamper and his strong arms to hold me, versus my loving arms holding her.  It's a delicate balance and we still falter now and then, but on the whole, we've made it work for us, which is all that is important.

If it were not for my husband, I would not have my glorious, wonderful  little boy.  If it weren't for my wife, I would exist in a relationship where I would feel discomfort discussing the myriad of mysteries that exist for women, the strange intricacies of our female-stratosphere, the occasionally envious give-and-take we must struggle with in our patriarchal society.  I'm free to admire and envy Melanie - she can discard the clothing and walk like a particularly masculine sheep amid the wolves.  Perhaps every now and then a hoof is exposed, but only around the wolves who love us, who've heard tell of my husband's vast collection of attractive skirts.  I, on the other hand, can not vary my gender to suit my mood.  I am who I am and she who is occasionally he, can choose who she feels like being today.  That, I feel, must be very freeing... and very confusing.  For myself, I prefer being solidly female.  I like my chest.  It's squishy and nice to poke when I'm bored.

Hmm, I feel I've lost my way in this talk.  I'm feeling through the text, trying to find a neat, polite way to sign out, to close the post, but doing so is difficult and uncomfortable.  It feels false.  I suppose then, instead, that I'll leave my goodbye rather open-ended, mutable, and open to interpretation.  I'd rather leave with a piece of advice - a truism that I repeat every chance I get when referencing this complex and varied crossdressing/transgendered world we choose to exist in.

Simply put: If you are the SO/Spouse of a crossdresser/transgendered individual and you don't want to leave... You Don't Have To.  I know it's difficult.  I know it's complex and confusing and hard and you are facing a possible lifetime of confusion and angst.  But-but-but...if you love that person - not the gender but the PERSON - if they make you laugh, if they buy you your favorite food at the grocery store without having to be asked first, if they always kill the spider or climb up on a high, rickety ladder to hang the Christmas lights, if they hold your hand when you're happy and let you wet their shoulder when you're sad... if you LOVE THEM, then you can make it work.

If you want it, you can always make it work.

I swear.
 

Good luck.

TheWife