Since my "coming out" with my wife many years ago we have continued to work at the transgender issues concerning us. And, it has not been easy… for either of us. She has allowed me to wear her clothes, a privilege with which I have taken great pains not to abuse or misuse. She has offered suggestions as to which items look best together, and at times has suggested what I should wear for a specific occasion. At the last Christmas banquet and dance put on by The Gender Mosaic support group I was even allowed to wear a classy, semi-formal outfit which she had recently purchased but, as of this writing, still has not worn. Now that is something!
We have had t-girl friends to our home for dinner, or just for a daytime coffee and chat. We have had several stay overnight as our guests. Some have come, and stayed, totally en femme, and some have chosen to come otherwise. She has been the instigator in almost every case.
Yet, she has not wanted to "meet" Samantha, and has said that I had better get used to the fact that such a thing might never happen. As a result dressing has been basically restricted to those infrequent times when I go out. This has led to a lot of frustration, tension, and feelings of rejection on my part. Still, taking the advice of others I have tried not to push forward activities involving dressing at home, or involving her outside home.
I became resigned to the fact that the expression of the feminine side of me, which involves cross dressing, would never be fully accepted by the one I love so completey and absolutely.
So, you could have bowled me over with a feather when, one evening, out of the blue, I was given an invitation to a candle light dinner!
Just the two of us!
To say that it took my breath away would be an understatement in the extreme. The event was to take place the following week, barring unforseen events, and I was to dress any way I saw fit. It took a few minutes for the full impact of what I was hearing to sink in. When the realization finally took hold I was speechless! (And, that doesn't happen very often.) I am sure that I must have looked quite a sight, sitting there, bug-eyed, with my mouth wide open. She just smiled, and added, "Unless, of course, you are not ready for it."
Ready? Ready? Gosh I had been wanting this to happen for so long that I can't remember ever thinking otherwise! And now the big event was on the immediate horizon. My wife was wanting to meet Samantha, face to face. I was sure that over the past few years there have been times when she has caught an accidental glimpse of me, and I know that she has seen many pictures, but this was different. Quite different!
I started having self doubts. Would she think I looked like a woman? Would I look like a man in a dress? Would she laugh? Would she just turn her back and tell me to change?
Over the next few days I became a nervous wreck as I contemplated the upcoming Saturday. And yet, I was as excited as a kid just a few days from Christmas.
And then it arrived... the day of reckoning!
For most of the day I helped out with the preparations for the dinner as if it was someone else who was coming. I had to keep busy to keep my mind off the actual event. My stomach was in knots. And all too soon it was time to get ready.
I carefully laid out on the bed the articles of clothing I was going to wear and hurried to the bathroom to shave, shower and put on my makeup. I was so nervous that I had to redo my eyes three times before I achieved an acceptable look. Once that was done I dressed.
One last glance in the full length mirror, and a very deep breath later, I announced that I was coming down the stairs. My heart was pounding, and yet, I was certain that everything was going to be all right. As I came into her view she just held out her arms to me, the warmest smile gracing her pretty face. I shall never forget that image of her as long as I live. She took me in her arms and gave me a big hug. I burst into tears. Just recalling the event brings tears to my eyes.
"Well there goes the mascara," I said. She just smiled and gave me a bigger hug. I felt so loved, so accepted.
Samantha was home at last!