The consequences of laying one’s thoughts down on a blog post seem to have sown a proverbial seed.
I went to sleep mulling over what I posted last night and woke up this morning in much the same mindset.
Awake before the alarm, a call of nature established that it was time for the alarm to go off anyway – the body clock finally retuned after the clocks were changed again.
This morning, my mind reached the conclusion that I should put myself to the test once more. At least that was what I was telling myself at the time. I cross dressed in my new tight fitting pink lace outfit and black stockings and, contrary to concerns previously indicated, thought little of it other than paying attention to the intracacies of the dressing process.
However, having quite quickly completed the process, the only thing I did I was to focus on things that needed doing before I set off for work, and that I did over the next two hours or so. Having dressed, I covered up in a light dressing gown, socks and light pyjama bottoms for an hour or so until the house was empty then did away with the coverings and enjoyed a controlled hour to myself attending to other things.
There was no on line presence, no peaks, no relief but I confess to appreciating the look in a full length mirror the odd time or two.
Having set myself a time to prepare and get off to work, I donned the work attire, hid the lingerie away, pulled myself together, acknowledging that ‘other’ things had delayed me and not crossdressing and set off to work to analyse what had just happened.
What had happened was a period of control and restraint. I told myself throughout that I must do that and that I did.
I enjoyed it, I craved more right there and then truth be told, I’m looking forward to more but am determined to retain the same level of control and philosophical approach that if it can’t happen for a reason, it can’t and shouldn’t happen and I will make sure I assess the lie of the land, the vibe, how I’m feeling at the time and what else and who else I should be considering.
Being the analyst that I am, the whole thing is still being scrutinised and that’ll take as long as it takes.
I cross dressed. There. I did it. No one knew but me. No one was hurt, including me and I felt no guilt – just control. I cannot let it control me, it cannot be the be all and end all as there is always another day. Maybe not tomorrow or this week. But that’s OK. The break will allow the focus and time on the people and things that matter.
The recovering crossdresser? Recovery doesn’t necessarily mean changing away from what and where I was or necessarily what might be defined as getting ‘better’ per se – it is just recovering from something that wasn’t right for my well being – right?