Well life in your early fifties, so the world would have you believe, is mortgage freedom, empty nests and the lure of playing off sctratch in the golf club.
So why am I STILL surfing trans sites? Why am I stil trying to work out who I am?
I've a happy marriage, two 'sorted' kids - now young adults, and things are good... but my mental wellbeing? Well, it seems to ebb and flow. So what? You may ask - don't we all? Well, I'm sure many on this site will recognise the ebb and flow intune with the purchase and purge of femme attire. The feeling that being me, isn't being male.
I've seen my sexuality squeezed through the mangle of 'kink' as I've fallen into fetish rituals - the quick fix. The notion that 'if someone forces me, it's not my fault' desires of certain femdom websites. They all leave guilt beyond what I'm prepared to accept.
So here I am - basket full of the next wave of outfits. Click and collect simpliticy. Then more guilt, then more purchases...
And what about the people around me who love me? My wife - of 30+ years? I came out as a cross dresser to her years ago. Then 'Chrissy' got selfish. My wife put her foot down and 'Chrissy' was locked firmly back in the closset - but not before both of us had explored and enjoyed some nights out. But that was then.
Chrissy now haunts me.
Selfishness sees me off into a chiffon sunset of self obsession.
Loyalty holds me in my relationship - keeping my manhood floating just above the surface.
It's exhausting.
Mental termoil.
Luckily, being a bit mentally unhinged is currently vogue - so I talk about feeling 'down'. People assume the pressure of work, or family or general 'stuff'. Non would suspect my desire for a 40C bust and hairless body.
It's exhausting.
I had my chest waxed once. I told my wife it was curiosity. She saw through it. I sobbed into her shoulder. She understood, but wants me - her 'hubby'. Not a wife or girlfriend.
So here I am. Basket full of click and collect - hovering over the 'buy it now' button.
Another fix for a 'can't face the truth' gender junky.
It's exhausting.