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The loneliness of a mature crossdresser

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Somewhere in the early nineties I discovered the ‘net and now I could, for the first time, see the vibrant community out there that I could make some contact with. From this point on there was no question of not exploring the fuller dimensions of my crossdressing. As I entered my fifties it became agonizingly apparent that if I was ever to explore, in depth, my femme side I had to do it sooner rather than later.

The unveiling of my femme side to my spouse was not a planned event. She came home early unexpectedly one evening and while I had lots of practice with near catches, I was not willing to continue the charade any longer and literally came out to her while I was partially dressed (lingerie and blouse but no makeup or skirt & shoes. Needless to say it was traumatic for both of us and especially for her.

She seemed to take it in stride but laid down some clear boundaries. While I now had the opportunity to dress while she was at home I could not interact with her as Carma. In fact she has never seen Carma in full regalia.

This opportunity to dress at home is now never exercised. I found it too frustrating because I knew that I caused her stress and I felt it better to continue in my old secretive ways and live with the isolation, guilt and loneliness that were, after all, regular “condiments” to my dressing. It was one step forward and two steps backwards and not at all what I hoped to achieve.

I joined a support group and informed my spouse of same. The combination of geography and costs has made prohibitive my presence at any support group meeting to date. Still I linked up with an officer of Cornbury through several e-mails and we agreed to meet and do things together en femme. Under the guise of going over to Vancouver on business (which I did) I met up with Stephanie who was a true friend in need. We went out together to try on wigs, clothes, and had a make over together before going off to dinner. It was a seminal event in Carma’s odyssey and I have never looked back since. I felt for the first time that here was not only a kindred spirit but also someone who was willing to befriend a recent member of Cornbury and together we fulfilled many of my long held, but suppressed, fantasies that day.

After reluctantly letting Stephanie go home (I was so high on the experiences that day that I couldn’t stop talking) I now realized that while the toothpaste was out of the tube I didn’t have any more opportunities to get out than I did before! My frustration soared and so did my isolation. I desperately needed to find a nearby sister who I could could go to visit and spend a few femme hours chatting up and socializing. I’m not into the clubbing scene. Through Stephanie I was introduced to Shauna, a Cornbury sister, and again I was amazed at the caring and helpful nature of our community. Shauna graciously invited me to her home and over the visits occurring the last two years, we became friends and to a degree, confidantes. This is exactly what I needed but again the new turn of events was only a partial success because I am only able to meet with Shauna in the short winter days when I can leave my home and enter her home without attracting attention. Recently Shauna invited me to participate in a day long outing with her but I declined for fear of discovery. My frustration and loneliness increased because now I had an opportunity to get out but felt unable to exercise that option and again I’m left in an anxious, frustrated and lonely state. It seemed that every time I made a breakthrough I was thrown backwards and my journey is characterized by uneven and halting movement.