The benefits a wife might get for putting up with CD'ing

I read an angst ridden post this morning about a wife lamenting the loss of her husband's maleness. I don't know the couple well so it isn't for me to say. Her CD might be truly transsexual in which case she is married to someone whose gender on the inside doesn't match the outside. Her lament about not having a male to hold might be tragically real.

I only mention it as the thing that got me thinking. My situation may well not translate for them.

I have never thought of myself as a girl. I envied girls, and more especially their clothes and have fun emulating them, but this is not the same as wanting to be one. I am glad to be male. I used to think I wasn't male "enough". I thought I was too skinny, and that my features were too soft. This, until I tried some foundation to cover my beard and found that my square jaw is distinctly male. Same with clothes. I never thought of myself as broad shouldered until I tried on a size 8 dress. I look like a linebacker! :)

What I am getting at is that I had kind of poor self esteem about my male side. I actually felt better about my appearance as I started to get a double chin at 178 lbs. I believed I had finally been able to gain muscle bulk once I had some fat reserves built. I found that my long lean muscles are still as strong and as skinny as I have dieted back down. I have long hated the camera partly due to family issues and partly appearance issues. In Barbara mode I wish I could take more pictures more often. My wife, and avid photographer and graphic design artist, has really had to chase after me in the past and settle for annoyed shots that say to the lens, "Take it already!" She usually gets only one chance. She actually used one of the shots of me in a national magazine once.

Lately, she has been counting up the benefits of having a Husband and a Girlfriend housed in the same body. The obvious ones has been shopping and as she is dieting faster than I the now blending of two pretty good sized wardrobes. The less obvious is a more willingness on my part to explore my feelings, and the use of dressing to put the angry male persona away at times when he needs a rest.

I haven't felt as much like dressing up lately,partly I think because after you have done the whole wig and make-up and hose treatment, a pair of panties seems a bit less than fulfilling.

Sunday she wanted to take some family pictures. I went eagerly, wanting to see how my practice as a photographic subject as Barbara, would translate to having "his" picture taken. As an acknowledgment to Barbara's help with this issue, I wore a pair of red velvet panties on under. Dee was encouraging a smile and whispered "Pretend you are wearing panties!" I told her "I AM!" with a big grin that she describes as a leer.