The Care and Maintenance of Barbara

I have neglected the blog here as my few regular readers may have noticed. This is more an indicator of my neglect of my entire Barbara persona than lack of interest in writing or blogging in general.

It seems to have started when I realized that I was constrained by circumstances outside of myself from maintaining Barbara's smooth legs. In male mode its the thing I would notice first so naturally it is one f the things that defines Barbara. Seems silly given that I went decades without really wanting to shave, that I would feel angst at all about it. I think though that crossdressing is a progressive condition. The more involved your preparations are for transforming yourself get the higher the bar is set. Once I saw myself in a skirt, mere pantyhose wasn't going to suffice. Add another layer of a wig and make-up and tasteful clothes, and that becomes the point where I feel like Barbara. I still like the soft satiny feel of a nice pair of panties but that is a comfort to my male side, not really anymore a step towards feeling en femme as it was in the past.

As I said in a previous post realizing how much I missed smooth legs scared me a little. If I miss it is important. If so I have to re-evaluate in my heart and mind where it is I fit in on the spectrum of wants, needs and behaviors that is described as "being trans-gendered". I like to believe that I am a fetishist. Why than the angst at doing without that that I did nicely without for so long in the past? Why is is such a comfort. Why is it less and less of a sexual thrill, while maintaining its allure in indescribable ways? And most un-answerable, what does any of this mean now and especially in the future. If I dress more will I be sated or demand ever-more?

Tonight I was going through my closet sorting a bit. I have skirts that I purchased after I had lose 20 lbs and a couple of sizes that are now much to big. This one skirt is cute and I never really ever wore it. It is a size 12 wrap-around reversible skirt. green plaid on one side a green floral print on the other. Even the label is cleverly reversible. I wrapped it around me and tucked it in to itself. (The skirt! not well the other!) I wore it as I surfed the net and spent some time on an adult site that my wife and I have been enjoying together as of late. It felt nice to be so, and it seemed silly I don;t dress just for emotional comfort. Whether that sates me or raises my desire to dress more shouldn't be the criterion for whether I dress or to what degree.

As I vacillate about these issues I can feel Barbara slipping away, and it makes me sad.Best evidence of this is the fact that I can't get her out of third person.