I really can’t remember whether one of my many blog entries has touched on this before, but in any case, it’s relevant to go over it again.

This year, it is 12 years since I found myself transported into the closet somehow and started crossdressing.  I don’t know how I started, exactly when I started or, more to the point, why I started but it’s largely irrelevant as it’s twelve years on and here I jolly well am!

Somewhere along the line, way back it has to be said, I came up with an en-femme name but there was clearly nothing in my head at the time any better than the one I’ve been using until this week.  In something akin to a dawn-breaking realisation, and having come across a blog link to the evidently fantastic ‘Boys Will Be Girls’ salon in London, it occurred to me that my en-femme name used for all these years was, to be fair, slightly ridiculous and almost tantamount to a parody – as if I wasn’t taking crossdressing seriously.  For that, although unintended, I apologise for any offence that may have been caused.

You may like the name ‘Gerry-Lynn’, and see it as somehow perhaps appropriate, some how feminine, girly and cute, but somehow, despite the absence of any clear thoughts of an alternative until now, I have gradually started to take a dislike to it, hence the branding of it as, for want of a better term, an unintended parody of my feminine side.   It is by no means a parodied, comedic or tongue in cheek side – it is, genuine, heartfelt, and sincere.   It took something of a ‘Eureka’ moment and a few minutes of thoughts to myself to come up with something better that just ticked the proverbial box

So about that name, Gerry-Lynn.  How on earth did I come up with that?  Is Gerry short for Geraldine?  No.  The ridicularity of the name – well that’s how I’ve suddenly seen it this week – is that it was concocted – (I really can’t come up with a better word than that) – from the word ‘Lingerie’, such is my love for the undergarments.   Yes – you’ve guessed it – swap the ‘gerie’ and the ‘Lin’ around and play around with the spelling a bit and that’s what you get – ‘Gerry-Lynn’.  Ridiculous?

Sure, people have addressed me on-line that way without any adverse reaction – only respect for me as a person. I’ve had an e-mail address built with the moniker in it, I’ve appeared on Literotica forums and crossdressing websites over the years as that name, and of course there’s (been) my Twitter feed – @gerrylynncder.

But there lies the problem.  I am something of an obsessive compulsive, evidenced from the drive to crossdress I suppose, but it is also evidenced by the many situations in my life where I’ve just got to do a particular thing right away once my mind gets fixed on it

Having realised that ‘Gerry-Lynn’ was no longer acceptable, having seen the much nicer en-femme names of others on line this week, that, I suppose was the trigger to make me think of something more suitable.  It didn’t take long.

It transpires that had I have been born a girl, I would have been called Fiona, so there you have it.  From here on in, I am Fiona and with that, I am more than content.  Having reached this conclusion yesterday, today I felt it completely appropriate to get things sorted.

So I am now well into the process of closing email accounts and opening new ones.  As for the Twitter account, well, although I changed the profile name as of yesterday, today somehow, that didn’t quite cut it, i.e. for it to be ‘Fiona’ @gerrylynncder.  I need and needed to remove it as much as possible.

So, having set up a new ‘Fiona’ email account, I set up a new Twitter account @fionacder and am now working to move over then close down relevant accounts and profiles, leaving Fiona to take precedence.  It is something of a cleansing exercise, but I have felt somewhat euphoric over it today it has to be said.  If you followed me @gerrylynncder, please do now follow me @fionacder in advance of me closing the former down – thanks!

The only problem is mulling over was that of my WordPress account of my old alter-ego name.  Having sorted e-mail and Twitter, and being content with my webcam presences, this led me to take a look through the settings.  I need not have worried as it was perfectly OK to change things over, add a new e-mail address, change the user name etc.  All done.

So, with some euphoria it has to be said, (and I said last time out that I wanted to introduce you to someone), I am Fiona – and I have probably been for a while, I just didn’t know it until now!

Finally, this time around, changing the subject, this week has seen me spend two working days underdressed. On the one day, black bra, stockings, suspenders and lacy g-string, on the other, for the first time, my bridal white cami-suspender set – the one that fits somewhat snug and tight to my slim body but purchased before I took a better grip an understanding of sizes.  Trial and error and all that.  Although, don’t mention those bloody pinging suspenders with those plastic clasps!  Infuriating!

In each instance, as research has found, going underdressed in public needs some careful planning.  Wearing thicker winter trousers, there has been no need for baggy boxers to hide strap marks and I find that experience somewhat more satisfactory.  It was nice to be able to casually reach in as part of an innocent looking ‘tucking my shirt’ in moment, and feel the lacy material of the lower cami-suspender as I sat, and how the suspender straps arched across the angle between stomach and top of the legs whilst sitting at the desk.

The opportunity to reach in allows a quick check that the shirt underneath the jumper remains baggy and pulled out, not tight to show cami-suspender lines, particularly when standing and moving around the office – another tip for those that don’t already know and to date, have not yet tried underdressing.

Nevertheless, something about being underdressed seems to make an internal radar, operating out of the corner of my eye, crank itself up and carry out scans for people looking my way, particularly as I sat in one of the comfy chairs in the works staff room this week.  I felt sure that there were people passing me by, who, as I sat there, minding my own business, casually reading, were, I felt, taking a slightly longer look in my direction slightly longer than might be naturally expected.

Maybe it was just me, in a partial state of paranoia, but then again maybe it wasn’t.  Had my strategic planning on work clothes still left a few hints as to what lies beneath?   If not that day, perhaps it was another day.

Working in a large office with more than a few people, many of which I don’t know nor perhaps will ever really know, I wonder, somewhat without regard it seems, whether there are whisperings in corners.

I care little to be honest, and I don’t do anything different, but merely process what I believe I am seeing out of the corner of my eye.  So long as I am content with my cover work.  It is not as if I was sitting there solely in my lingerie for goodness’ sake.  As I said in a previous blog entry, being covered up and not entirely giving the game away means that people may hesitate in saying something in case they are wrong, although that doesn’t stop rumours and speculation in corners I suppose.   On this occasion, they aren’t wrong, but this is 2017.  We are nowhere near where we need to be in becoming a tolerant society, but people should be allowed to be who they want to be – me included.

I – Fiona – will continue to be as meticulously careful as I have been since 2005, the closet about as private a place as a private place can be.

Until next time, thanks for reading.