In a previous blog, I commented on how my conclusions were that a ladder in a pair of black stockings followed by an on-line session in which a female admirer had asked me to – well, let’s just say ‘spoil’ them – had scuppered my crossdressing.

This was because I then no longer had my preferred black stockings to go with a number of black outfits available but neither did I particularly have the urge to go and buy another pair from my trusty home and hardware store.

I also commented on how my own sub-conscience – the Jekyll & Hyde, the angel and devil on either shoulder – had then fought their own battle, the evil half able to emerge victorious to remind me that I’d actually got a flesh coloured pair of hold-ups in my hidey-hole.

Frankly, this was enough for another dress-up session one morning this week, one which did all the things that I frustrated myself with in previous weeks.  You know the sort of stuff, the double checking that you’d tidied everything up properly, making yourself late for work leading to fabrication of excuses, skipping breakfast at home and eating on the move instead, pushing time boundaries for the public transport and not anticipating traffic, using more time up to make sure browsers didn’t have any tell-tale evidence.

I didn’t care. On came those flesh coloured stockings and the aforementioned pink bowed and ribboned cami-suspender, up went the (in need of replacement) temperamental webcam and on-line I went for a short time.  This was the GerryLynn of old, but truth be told, I was content with the manner in which I was crossdressing on this occasion.

It was a quiet session with folk coming and going, one including one of what they may call ‘my regulars’ who hadn’t seen me for a while and appreciatively understood why I’d not been on line but also appreciated my appearance and was very complimentary.  Were they trying to get me back on line more often I asked?  I think the answer skirted around the answer perhaps to be helpful to me in some respect.

I do like people I speak to, to be polite, good manners, Ps & Qs etc but with this in mind, I felt content with what had been asked of me and the way it had been asked and duly obliged, the chat quite turning me on to be honest and once I’d had a taste of things, I went no further, largely as it was time for them and me to go.

Truth be told, there’s yet another battle of minds going off again, planning when and if I might buy another pair of black stockings, when I might crossdress again, but there’s also the strong mindset of doing the other things I know I need to do, and there’s also the mindset to stop crossdressing because I don’t want it to take over my life in the way that it has, well documented on previous blogs.   Split personality?  As I’m a crossdresser, perhaps I do have that – yes.

There’s also the aim to focus on the more personal aspects of my life.  Am I being completely attentive to my wife whom I love dearly?  What effect has that had over the last few months?

Am I any further forward than my first blog?  Perhaps I am, but given that I’ve stopped crossdressing before and had several purges, perhaps those who say that you are who you are and can’t change are right.  Perhaps you are wired the way you are and there’s no change – unless the mindset and the circs are right for an individual.

As I read on another crossdresser’s blog the other day ‘…we’re all on our own journey’. That’s a very good way of putting it – infact, there’s probably not a much better one to be honest.

I still view crossdressing on-line, I still read other crossdresser blogs, I still think about crossdressing and, only very occasionally nowadays, I do crossdress.

That makes me the recovering crossdresser.  Something else for me to mull over.

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