Did I Say I Was Better?

 My brain is like a bag of cats.

Yesterday I felt fine. Better than fine. I even got a little girl time after work. Wore a dress, enjoyed being feminine, win / win, right?

Today I came to a horrible realization. But more on that later. First, the setup...

My fiancee and I are taking a trip to Arizona, which starts a week from today. We're going to the Grand Canyon, Antelope Canyon, Horseshoe Bend, etc. Then we're heading south, visiting Tombstone and then spending our last 2 days partying our asses off in Phoenix. So far, so good.

Did I mention that the day we fly to Arizona is also my 47th birthday? Well, it is. My fiancee, whose heart is absolutely huge and ever-flowing with love and affection, has been grilling me lately about what I would like her to give me for my birthday. I'm not big on receiving gifts, be it my birthday, Christmas, Valentine's Day, etc, so I always tell her the same thing -- "your love and attention are all I ever want you to give me."

Great sentiment, but also complete bullshit. What I really want, and have for years, is for her to accept me as I am, dresses and all, as if it were no big deal. This has been my fondest wish for so long, and with this trip coming up, I feel like I have an opportunity to prove to her that it's no big deal. I can wear skirts and the like on our trip without anyone we know ever seeing it. What's even better is that I doubt anyone in Arizona is going to make a fuss over some dude in a skirt. My experience has been that people either don't notice or don't care.

I typed a letter to my beloved on Saturday (3 days ago), laying it all out. The trip, my recent outing to the movies, everything. I even went as far as to state that if she can't get her mind wrapped around this, we'll have to break up. It's not going away, and I can't bear the thought of suppressing it for the rest of my life. I love this woman, more than my own life, but I can't pretend to be someone I'm not. I'm a crossdresser. I crossdress. I always have. I always will. If I don't drop this letter on her, and damn soon, the opportunity is going to slip away.

So here's the horrible realization: I'm a coward. Fear rules me. I know how to make Millions of Dollars investing in real estate, but I'm afraid to talk to sellers on the phone, so I give in to the fear and keep my day job. I know that crossdressing makes me feel more comfortable, confident and alive, but I'm afraid to have this conversation with my fiancee, so I let fear win once again. The letter has not been printed. I have not told her about it. I am terrified of her reaction to it.

Oh but to be bold just once in my life! To push fear aside and live MY FUCKING LIFE on MY FUCKING TERMS!! But I'm a coward, you see. I have always let fear dictate my actions, and chances are very good that I always will. Not only am I a coward, but a fucking loser as well.

My fiancee senses that I'm deeply troubled by something. She has tried to pull it out of me. She doesn't know how volatile this situation really is. Every time I mention crossdressing to her, she turns cold. Every time I ask her to just try to accept it, she becomes enraged. I am, at this very moment, presented with the sadistic choice Willem Dafoe mentioned in Spider-Man. Do I cling to the woman I love so dearly, and in doing so denounce a part of myself forever, or do I embrace who I am and lose her? There is no happy outcome to this conundrum. I must choose whether to value her affection over my own sanity or not. To be content and lonely or miserable with this wonderful person at my side.

The coward in me is telling me to take the layup. Go with the safe bet. Keep the woman and burn the girly things. But there's another voice vying for my attention. This voice tells me that fortune favors the bold. If I lose this woman, another will appear, one who doesn't care what kind of clothes I wear or whether I present myself to the world as male or female on any given day. But I love her so damn much...

Feeling A Bit Better

As it tends to do, my depression has waned just a bit. I still feel alone, but not as much as I did last week.

All I want is to be accepted as I am. I'm not a drag queen. I'm not transgender. I'm just a man who likes to wear feminine things.

I look at Instagram and see men, with beards and mustaches, wearing over the top makeup styles. They don't look bad. Actually, they look pretty cool and, well, pretty! Men looking pretty, posting pictures of their pretty faces for the whole world to see, and I'm over here in my skirt, pantyhose and heels like, what's the big deal?

I intended to have another crossdressing adventure this week, but my laziness got the better of me. I also intended to mow the lawn wearing a skirt, which I also didn't do. It's a good thing I didn't, though. Halfway through mowing, my landlord showed up to drop of something or other, and made a point to wave at me. Had I been wearing a skirt, it may have become awkward.

That's just what I'm talking about. Why should it get awkward? Aren't clothes just clothes? Should my landlord make a big deal about the clothes I choose to wear while carrying out my yard duties? As long as he gets his check every month, it shouldn't matter to him. Yet somehow my mind places an irrational fear upon the prospect of anyone who knows me seeing me wearing the clothes I'm most comfortable in.

I know it's all in my head, with the exception of my lovely fiancee. With her, it's all too real.

Even my sister, with whom I had a semi-drunken conversation yesterday, is more or less accepting of my fashion choices. She said it would take her some time to get used to, but whatever makes me happy and comfortable is cool with her.

A little back-story on my sister: When she got married back in 2007, I did not attend. I believed that she had stopped talking to me when I told the whole family about my crossdressing. For years I believed that she would disown me because I liked to wear girly things. Time passed and we started talking again. Our relationship has improved drastically since then, and I now realize that the wedge between us wasn't crossdressing, but our mother. My sister didn't invite our mom to her wedding, for her own reasons, and I understand them. However, the method by which our mother learned that she wasn't invited was cruel and hurtful. I couldn't help but side with my mother and agree that my sister should have told her outright that she wasn't invited, and explain her reasoning for it. That misunderstanding cost me 5 years of my relationship with my sister, and it hurts my heart when I think about it.

So, when that same sister tells me she's cool with however I choose to attire myself, it gives me a warm feeling. It feels like acceptance to me, which is all I ask of anyone.

I'm still feeling depressed, but it's manageable now. I still feel alone, but not as utterly alone as I did a few days ago. I still wish and hope and pray that my fiancee will come around to acceptance, and will take whatever baby steps are necessary to facilitate that, but if it never comes, I'll have to find a way to endure and soldier on. I can't let one person's judgment cripple me. I'm a magnificent, vibrant person, with a lot to offer. I feel love in my heart. I know there is kindness and decency within me, even if I haven't found a consistent way to present it outwardly. I know there is a place in this world where I can be who I want to be, without the scorn and judgment of everyone close to me. All I have to do is find that place, that state of being, to cast off the chains of shame and guilt, and be the person I know I can be.

I'm going to try to do another pantyhose review very soon. I found some ultra sheer, soft and comfy pantyhose at Kohl's that I'm anxious to tell you about!

Hello Depression My Old Friend

The high I felt from going to a movie in a skirt and nylons has faded. Reality has intruded once again.

My fiancée is terrified that someone she knows will see me wearing what I love to wear - namely skirts, dresses, feminine hosiery & high heels. Every time I broach the subject of crossdressing, she instantly goes ice cold.

There was one such moment last week. I was still feeling really good about my movie trip, so I brought up my feminine wardrobe to her, mentioning the fact that I'd found a pretty necklace at a local thrift store. Instead of encouraging my happiness, she went cold. She made me feel ashamed of myself for doing something which harmed nobody, something I truly enjoy doing - shopping for feminine things for myself.

I felt lower than a snake's belly. I felt like a filthy degenerate. She didn't have to say a word to reduce me to a repugnant little worm. Just like the last time I tried to discuss crossdressing with her, the experience left me feeling alone. So very alone.

It was at that very moment that I realized that this relationship is doomed. As long as we're together, I can never be who I truly am. I can never feel the freedom I felt at that movie theater, for any prolonged period. I can never be ME. I'll always have to put on an act for her.

Knowing that the relationship has to end hurts. We've been together for 9 years. She is closer to me than anyone else in the world. Yet she refuses to know the real me. Refuses to even consider my feelings.

I've been on the verge of tears ever since that moment. I feel disconnected and alone. So very alone. I've become a stranger in my own life, and now I have to choose whether to remain this stranger or let go of the person I love most.

Life sucks. I mean it just fucking sucks. I'm depressed. I'm contemplating suicide. I'm in a no-win situation. The good news for my fiancée is that I've lost all interest in crossdressing. The bad news is that I've lost all interest in everything else, too.

My life has been drained of all joy. This is the power she has over me. Do I love her enough to spend the rest of my life pretending I'm something I'm not?

I want to die. I want to be gone from this shitty life forever. I hope there is no afterlife. The prospect of continued existence is absolutely horrifying. I want oblivion. To never feel or think again. To not realize that I ever existed. To simply be gone. No pain. No depression. Nothingness.

HUGE Milestone

I've been in love with wearing feminine clothes since I was 5 years old and tried on a pair of my mom's pantyhose. I was instantly hooked!

I'm a month away from my 47th birthday. My favorite uncle passed away on April 1st. Though unrelated, these two events have inspired me to look inward, at why I don't feel fulfilled or happy with my life. What I realized was that I haven't been living my authentic life!

42 years after I tried on mom's nylons, I'm hiding my feminine proclivities from the world out of fear of being "found out" by coworkers, friends, the public at large. Why? What is so wrong with wanting to wear dresses and heels and tights? Nothing. It's harmless.

That's why today, of all days, while at work, I hatched a scheme to face my fear once and for all.

Several hours later, I stepped out of my car at the local movie theater wearing a black heavy metal hoodie, a blue skater skirt, glossy black tights and black ballet flats. Nervous as all hell, I strolled into the theater and collected my ticket from the Fandango kiosk in the outer lobby (amidst the laughter of people behind me) and strolled into the lobby as if everything was perfectly normal. I ordered popcorn and a large soda, calmly walked to the soda fountain to fill my cup, then proceeded to the auditorium and sat in my comfy recliner seat to enjoy a seemingly endless barrage of movie previews.

All the while, only 2 chuckles, including the people behind me walking into the building. I got more than a few odd looks and sidelong glances, but nobody was openly hostile or even rude.

All in all, it was a tremendous first outing as a man in a skirt. I feel so accomplished and genuinely happy, all because I stepped out of my comfort zone. The sky didn't fall, nobody tried to shame or humiliate me, and the world keeps on spinning.

Maybe I'll do it again tomorrow....which is actually today! It's 4:30 am already! Good night!

Some Quick Pantyhose Shots

As I mentioned in the first post to this blog, I sorta have a thing for pantyhose. Alright, I'm a full-blown pantyhose FANATIC. I love pantyhose, in all their varying shades and styles. They're absolutely the most feminine garment ever.

Having said that, I actually shaved my legs today for the first time in years. Needless to say, I love the way they feel, but even more importantly, I got a chance to indulge in my favorite pastime -- trying on and wearing glossy, shiny, slippery new pantyhose!

So here they are...

First off, a teaser. These are Leggs Silken Mist pantyhose in "Nude." They're silky, very sheer and very, very comfy. 

Next, we move up the gloss scale ever so slightly. In this shot, I'm wearing Italiana Women 15 Denier Glossy pantyhose. 

These are also very comfy, just a bit glossy and more durable than most glossy pantyhose. I bought these because they weren't expensive and they promised a "high gloss" finish.

You can buy them here.

 


In these 6 shots, I was wearing Cecilia de Rafael Sevilla Gloss Tights in the shade "Natural." Like the previous pair, these are advertised as "high gloss," and I must admit they're much glossier than the Italiana pantyhose. 

 

For the final entry of this post, we have the often-imitated, never duplicated, Platino Cleancut 15 pantyhose in the shade "Caresse."

What can I say about Platino Cleancuts that hasn't already been said hundreds of times? BUY THESE PANTYHOSE! LOL

These are the slipperiest, glossiest, most elegant pantyhose I've ever worn. These photos don't do them justice at all. My legs look like they're coated in glass!

Well, that's it for this pantyhose show. Wait, did I just hear the mailman? I bet there's a pair of Cecilia de Rafael Eterno 15s in my mailbox...

Hello!

So...

My name is Marika (my CD name, not my birth name) and I'm a crossdresser. To the uninitiated, that means I'm a man who wears clothes traditionally worn only by women. 

Don't be shocked!

A lot of men do it. A lot more than you'd think, really. Estimates range from 10% to over 25% of American men! Most don't do it in public, and to be perfectly honest, I've gone out into the big, scary world only a handful of times in my feminine finery. The point is, crossdressing isn't this horrible, disgusting thing. It's just a man's way to express himself through the clothes (and / or jewelry, makeup, etc) he wears.

In this blog, I'll post whatever pops into my head to post. I'm a HUGE fan and collector of pantyhose, so I'll almost certainly post reviews of new pantyhose brands I try. If I get really brave, I'll even include photos! Oops, time to go shave these hairy legs!

Thanks for visiting my blog! I hope it becomes something that entertains and inspires you.