Beautifying the Beast..

I recently discovered a new brand of make up that I’ve been absolutely loving. I’ve gone a bit crazy buying it. The brand is by a famous American tattoo artist called Kat Von D. Her products are vegan and cruelty free, if that kind of thing is important to you. I’m not vegan by any stretch but I don’t believe animals have a place in cosmetics, so it’s a selling point for me. I’ve bought a few other brands too, but hers are my favourite. You can only buy Kat Von D at Sephora, keep well away from eBay for cosmetics, the prices seem cheap until you’re holding a counterfeit in your hands. So don’t bother, just spend the extra and get the genuine product.

One of the positives with having a gender fluid husband is the complete lack of guilt I have in indulging in such luxuries. It benefits us both! Paul (or ‘Bernie’ now!) never complains about it or gets upset with me for spending money on it.

(I’m going to start referring to Paul as Bernadette or just ‘Bernie’ to be neutral. Bernadette is the name Paul uses en femme, so I think Bernie works!)

When it comes to doing my own make up I can do wonders. I know my face, I’ve tailored my style over the years and I’m not bad at all. Until I do Bernies face. Then I’ve got no clue. I’ve never worked with masculine features and absolutely everything is different. Bernies eyes are a totally different shape, the jawline is different, the brows are heavier and so on. So I’m having to learn new skills and I’ve been watching a tonne of YouTube clips to learn how to accentuate hooded eyelids and the like. I’ve bought no less than 4 different base/foundation palettes, and I really must be honest here, I bloody love it! I’ve got a creamy one for colour correcting, two different powder contouring palettes and a cream contouring palette. I’ve just ordered one of the two powdered ones, I got the shade & light contouring palette by Kat Von D as I’ve read so many great reviews about it. Bernie was well chuffed as he was going to buy it for us but the store was out of stock. (He was on a business trip to Sydney, so I coerced him into going into a Sephora store as we don’t have one where we live, and the Instore range shits over what’s available in the online store)

My first couple of tries with make up on Bernie really haven’t turned out too well, I have just been replicating what I do to myself. It doesn’t work. We bought a black wig and the style is ok but black is just no. So it’s back to eBay for cheap wigs until we find what works.

So ladies, what advice do you have for this languishing wife in terms of make up? Or will it be me giving you advice once I’ve got it all worked out? 😉 I just don’t want Bernie to look like a drag queen because that’s not really what we’re going for. Drag is an exaggeration of feminity, designed to be more theatrical than it is feminine. Obviously it is based on feminity, but it’s just a whole different thing. If Bernie wants to go full drag queen tho, I won’t stop it. 

Tonight we had a long discussion about what Bernies aims are. Does he want to go full woman and pass, is he going to go with the current Boy George type look (minus the facial hair)? 

The answer is, we don’t know yet. He’s living through adolescence in his female form. It’s about experimenting, figuring out where he sits in the spectrum between male & female. I feel it’s a fluid thing. What worked for me in my early 20’s certainly isn’t what works for me now. I learnt the hard way by shaving a massive undercut into my hair so I ended up with a long, thick Mohawk. Had that look in the late 90’s and loved it. I don’t love it anymore.

Right. Brain dump is over and now it’s over to you ladies. I desperately need to sleep. Send your advice here! 


Some girls are bigger than others.

I’m at work at the moment updating this! Oooeeer. I was horrified when I went to sign in and it autofilled my blog name. Oops! Oh well, hopefully no one else here logs into wordpress and if they do, hopefully they don’t go reading it. I’ve fixed it to prevent it from happening and will work my way through all the computers later. If they did read it, oh well. Nothing in here I wouldn’t stand by or be happy to say aloud. I want to bitch about work because it’s really depressing me, but it really would be of no interest to any of you and it will sound extremely petty. Also, I probably -wouldn’t- be happy to stand by/say aloud anything I’d write about it.

Groups of women. I know a lot of you reading this would probably do anything to be included in one, as a woman. Let me tell you now, choose your ‘squad’ wisely. I like to speak in generalisations a lot, and I will here. But large groups of women spending too much time together is quite possibly the top of the list in my first world problems. Backstabbing, gossiping and passive aggressive manipulative behaviour trump all. I went to an all girls high school and I hated it. Avoided groups of women for a very long time after I left. I am now in a position at work where I am working with mostly women and OH MY GOD. I’ve lost my eyes to the back of my head so frequently that my brain is more familiar to me than the back of my hand.

Being a woman isn’t all just clothes and make up. There’s a lot of good and bad about it. The other day Paul was the recipient of his first dick pic via an instagram. I’m not entirely sure if he was shocked, amused or what. But welcome to ladies’ night, darling!

Perhaps one of the biggest things that women have battled with over many years is body image. Do not get sucked in to it. Please! My concern with Paul and instagram is not dick pics. It’s the uber glam trans ladies who have money spewing out of their pert arses. The ones with professional hair/make up/photography/costumes/photoshoppers. Ideally in their early 20’s with feminine features. Paul spends a lot of time looking at these types. I am concerned that he has set himself extremely unrealistic expectations of what he should look like. He gets a bit down about it sometimes. I have expressed this concern to him. Ideally, I’d like him to perhaps spend a bit more time looking at the -normal- trans ladies. Your every day lady. Normal (read: so many different types of) body shapes, facial features etc. Older ladies. Not the 20 year olds with the perfect skin, cheekbones, eyebrows and utter lack of wrinkles. Unless of course you are 20, with the above attributes, then knock yourself out checking them out. Maybe what I should say is I’d like him to check out people who have achievable looks. Look at what is working for them, what looks ridiculous on them and what kinds of ‘enhancements’ they are using and how these things could work for him.

Fortunately, I am a strong & confident woman. There is a part of me that could look at Paul staring at his instagram of trans ladies for hours and take that to mean that he doesn’t find me attractive and he wants someone who looks like what he’s staring at for hours. Luckily for him I am wise enough to know that he is looking at it because he’s imagining himself looking like that and it doesn’t particularly threaten me. I think like that now, but I am not sure how I will feel about it in 5 years time. Right now though, I understand he’s got a freedom that he hasn’t had before and it’s really difficult to not obsess over it. Sorry to say though, there’s a lot of women who do not think like me and will think like the first option. That they aren’t good looking in the way their husbands want, and thinking that they never will be because they are cis females, what’s wrong with them, etc.  It’s not to say don’t look. Look. But don’t obsess. It’s really, really, really fucking bad for you, OK?

We, you, we’re all gorgeous. We’ve all got that one thing we can work. Mine used to be my boobs. But then after a while I had turned myself into a commodity by flaunting them all the time. It was never “Oh that dress looks lovely”, it would be more “Oh my god, look at your tits!!! Can I touch them?” Really? Actually, I was lucky if I was asked. So many guys just motorboated, poked, peeked under what little was covered up without even asking. “Well if you’re gonna have them out like that you’ve gotta expect that!” Really? I can expect that they will be looked at and talked about. Yep. But so many guys just figured it was their right to get all up in them because you know, I had them on display. I have since started to cover them up, but they’re DD’s and not the easiest to keep under wraps. Plus I like them. But the attention just became demeaning.

So. Find what works for you. Maybe you’ve got a great smile and look great in glasses. Maybe your legs are where it’s at. Maybe it’s your eyebrows, perhaps the eyes below them. Maybe it’s a particular pair of shoes that show off your calves just right. (One strange thing I’ve noticed and had confirmed by speaking to other women is that guys really go for calves. I think each of us at some stage have been complimented on our calves!! Strange!) Maybe it is your boobs or chest. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Just find what is working for you, even if it means trying out a gazillion different styles.(FUN!) Put the plastic photoshopped 20 year old away. Please look anywhere else for inspiration. Also, and I say this as a ‘larger’ woman (size 18, 5’7″ tall, size 11 wide feet), do not be afraid of checking out the plus size ranges of clothing. Particularly with tights/stockings/hosiery. I can’t wear regular tights. They are too short in the crotch and leave a terrible roll around the middle, or under my belly to really accentuate the roundness of it. Plus size tights are a lot longer which means a lot more comfortable. Same goes for jeans. There’s an Australian brand that both Paul and I swear by called ‘City Chic’ and their jeans are just superb. All their clothes are. But plus size specific brands are great because they are not only larger in size but also made for a bit more height and width in the shoulders. And great fitting clothing will instantly make you feel sexier.

Take a look at all the body image related content on line (it is generally aimed at women) about how society views women. This was the opening to a story about Jessica Simpson in a trashy womens magazine (New Weekly – Au) “Holy Hooters! The star’s on a mission to get the biggest melons in town” It then went on to explain how much her husband loves her curves and can’t wait for her to get bigger boobs. Truly, it’s fascinating reading. Forget your significant business achievements, Jess. Tits, or get the fuck out!

Ok. I don’t know what my point on this entry is. I just don’t want to be at work. I am so tired. I don’t want to talk to the person I am stuck with tonight. So I have kept myself occupied by spewing out the internal thoughts on here. Sorry for the ramble, it’s all important stuff though. 🙂

For what its worth, for those who notice these kinds of things, I am going to start using song titles as my titles. I’ve used one previously and decided that it’s what I am going to do as I am crap at thinking up titles. Guess the artist. Here’s the lyrics to the title. They are not this artists finest by a long shot.


From the ice-age to the dole-age
There is but one concern
I have just discovered :

Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers

Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers

As Anthony said to Cleopatra
As he opened a crate of ale :

Oh, I say :
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers

Some girls are bigger than others
Some girls are bigger than others
Some girl’s mothers are bigger than
Other girl’s mothers

Send me the pillow…
The one that you dream on…
Send me the pillow…
The one that you dream on…
And I’ll send you mine










Single of the week..

So I started writing this before we got married. I want to finish it though, even though some of it may no longer be relevant. 🙂

Paul and I get married in a week. Seems like yesterday that I first met him. I shouldn’t be writing blogs, I should be writing my vows, but frankly, I need a break from wedding stuff, just for a few hours!

In any case, writing this is a good way to remind myself of little things and to give me time to reflect on just exactly how much life has changed for myself and those in my universe since Paul burst in.
Moments.  You know those moments. The ones where the world outside of your moment just pauses and ceases to exist. Life is lived for those moments. Maybe that moment is just yours or perhaps it’s a shared one. Take time to appreciate them.

Sorry for that random and sentimental thought, but that shit is important. I’m not even drunk! But I -am- getting married in a week, I’m tired, a little bit stressed and emotionally vulnerable! Plus I’m in bed, Paul asleep next to me and the dog has fallen asleep with his head in my lap. My heart is full.

I started writing yesterday. I got as far as writing ‘8 days until I get married’ (drinking game: drink for each time I use the phrase “I’m getting married”, guarantee you’ll be plastered by the of this post!) and got no further. I’m glad though, tonight brings much more interesting topics!

Pauls workmates decided to throw him a little hens night of sorts. None of them have really seen this other side of him, even though they know about it. But they support him and I abso-fucking-lutely love them for it! Started out at the pub, Paul in his every day man wear with sheer black tights underneath. All good, situation normal. No one notices or if they do, they don’t care. Then we hit our favourite gay bar. Paul went into the guys to get changed into his little black dress and his shoes of prey heels.

Gonna go on a brief tangent here; I have a theory. Sometimes you see crossdressers who look great and other times you see some that just make you shake your head and wish you could style them. Not their fault, growing up with men’s fashion isn’t exactly a great training ground for flare or style. Here’s a $3000 suit that pretty much looks the same as this $300 suit. Etc. Paul has this pair of heels he bought off Ebay cheaply that are leopard print, with orange heel/sole trim and blue straps. The colour combo is ‘interesting’ and I think it’s because there are a lot of males out there who are colour blind and they just can’t tell that it’s quite a hideous combination of colours. There’s really no other explanation. If they were your shoes, I’m sorry but I think you should get your eyes checked.

Anyway, so we are at this club (I really wish I had finished writing all this when I started it!) and Paul had got changed into his femme gear and was so welcomed by his workmates! Many pictures were taken, and they gave both myself and Paul ‘Bride to Be’ sashes to wear. We were later advised by security at the club that we had to remove them. They do not allow them as where we live, marriage equality hasn’t happened, and once everyone can get married the sashes can be worn. Fair enough. Paul was very unhappy about this but complied. I digress. Pauls workmates are just the greatest. So supportive! Paul was concerned that one of the party from out of town wouldn’t be comfortable and what happens if it gets out etc. Was this going to be a career limiting move? His boss (a lady who also happens to be lesbian) said absolutely not and if it became an issue she would stand behind him the entire way. I currently really struggle with loving my job, I’m hating it and I kinda want to quit and go work with Pauls crowd!

Whilst we were at the club, we were approached from behind by our lovely jeweler who sold us our engagement/wedding rings. He got a photo with us and gave Paul some advice about standing around in heels. We chose the right jeweler, obviously!

We had such a great, happy and supportive night with such a wonderful bunch of people. Every so often Paul will get the shits with his job and want to leave. Fortunately it’s usually temporary and he knows what he has in the people there.

I kept notes to refer to when I returned to writing this. One of them was ‘Gogglebox – I am Cait – positive reactions’.  I’m not going to talk about my opinion on Cait. But I am going to talk about the reactions of the people on Gogglebox (au version). Generally it was very positive, even from the least likely. One father was being quite derogatory and was shut down and schooled by his teen daughters. So, there’s hope. Whatever you are going through, whatever challenges you face or present to others, I think they’re worth it. Change is happening. Though do you ever wonder if it’s change until faced with it in reality? I like to think that the positive reaction would be the same from afar or in your face. But people do find in your face a little more of a challenge. Generally though, I believe that attitudes are definitely changing and it’s a great thing.

I’ll write about the wedding at a later date. But for your spoiler alert – it was a fabulous ceremony followed by a wonderful party. We’ve had several people say that it was the best wedding they have ever been to. 🙂 Definitely the best one that -I- have ever been to!!!!






Sometimes I wish I could just think the words on to here, rather than having to type them out. I often think of things I want to write, sometimes never quite getting around to them because I simply can’t be arsed typing them!

I’m not sure how to word this situation I’m thinking about. I’ll try the best I can. Life for Paul has changed significantly since I entered it and sometimes I wonder if I make it easier or harder for him in terms of his dressing. He’s got the freedom with me to dress as he chooses. He has since our first date. It’s not something I’ve had to be coerced into accepting. So life should be easier, right?

I mean, it probably is. But he’d got to the point of accepting his lot in life. Not giving up, but at that stage where this is who he is and is always going to be and he wasn’t really expecting anyone else to accept his lot, I guess. 

So now we find ourselves at that stage where he’s starting to push his boundaries, thus far it’s all been good. He’s told several of his (closer) workmates and we even went dressed up to a Bowie tribute night with a couple of them. He was a bit anxious about it, but it all turned out great. We had a moment when a Mr Below-Average-Normal started asking Paul about his clothing choices. I was standing behind Paul when this started, hand on hip, stare down in progress, when Pauls workmate dove in between Paul and Mr Below to protect him. Very sweet of her! Nothing happened and Mr Below could see Paul had his harem of supercool ladies around him and left us all to it. 

He may have been confused as to why Paul was wearing what he was (remember, we’re at a Bowie tribute, the concept seemed lost on him ffs) but I was enraged by Mr Belows outfit. Pair of boring jeans with a polo shirt emblazed with his local group team building event bullshit that no one except him and his mates care about. He knew all the Bowie songs, but seemed perplexed at the wonderfully weird people surrounding him. I’d forgive him for his clothing choice if he’d just stumbled into his local pub, but this was his night out on the town and -that- was the best thing he could think to wear?!? I mean, really!! Pffffffft! Polo shirts, btw, should be burnt. Terrible. And seeming shocked.. Has he ever actually -seen- even a picture of Bowie during the era of ‘Space Oddity’? He certainly knew all the words.. 

Anyway, so successful night, Paul feels good. Next day we’re heading off to our usual district to get lunch and Paul asks if he should wear tights under his shorts. I tell him to go for it and walk off to do something I can’t remember. I walk back and he’s putting his shoes on, wearing shorts with sheer black nylons underneath. “Oh you’re wearing the black ones” exits my mouth and I’m asked if its a problem. I explain that I just assumed he was going to be wearing nude ones and that was it. He then basically threw a bit of a tantrum and ripped them off. All because I noted he was wearing black. (Well not all, that was just the trigger for his insecurities to rush forth)

So that scenario made me wonder. Is it easier to have the freedom and face these dilemmas of tantrums fuelled by insecurities, or is it easier to continue hiding? What’s better for him in the long run? Personally, I’d go for option A. I’ll face all the hissy fits in the world. 

I don’t think either way is easy. I think option A is the hardest, but by far the best. 

If you were to (or have already) be given permission to be entirely yourself, what are your thoughts on how you’d deal with that sudden freedom? What would be your biggest mental obstacles? Would you get lost in the “pink fog”? 

For what it’s worth, I told him no more tantrums at innocuous observations as I don’t want to get to the point where I feel the need to self censor out of fear of more sulking episodes. (Sulking episodes of this nature don’t bother me further than that they are unnecessary and I can’t be bothered with them, not that they happen too regularly) 

Do I find all of this hard? Not really. The hardest part for me is definitely dealing with insecurities. There are a lot of them. But I understand their roots and we talk about it a lot. I’m the first partner to “allow” this part of him and I don’t think he’s quite used to it yet 🙂

Slowly we are getting there. Every tantrum, every person he tells. It’s all one step closer 🙂

Maintenance Day

Today Paul got to be completely himself, as much as he allowed himself to be, anyway. 

We had a bit of a maintenance day. Long showers and hair removal. I washed my hair (something I find an absolute chore) and straightened it. I smeared veet all over Pauls back. Best stuff for getting rid of man back hair,  a tip I got from a body builder friend of mine. Leave it on a little longer than advised, unless it’s burning you. Does a brilliant job and is a good alternative if you don’t react well to waxing. Don’t ever use it on your swimsuit region, even the ‘sensitive’ stuff. Trust me on that one, please!

We then went to the nail salon and I got a manicure whilst Paul got a pedicure. His took a bit longer so I got my eyebrows shaped & tinted, got my eyelashes tinted too. It was Pauls first pedicure and he was a bit worried about getting colour (black), and what people would think. Who cares! It worked out no problems, as these things tend to. He’s very happy with his toes, I’m happy with my fingers and we’re hoping to make it a bit of a regular thing.

We then went to meet a friend of mine at a local small bar. Paul always stressed about what to wear and what people are going to think/say. All these ‘what if’ scenarios. None of the ‘what if’s have ever happened. Tonight he wore white women’s jeans with tears down the legs and his gender neutral(?) Can’t think of another way to put it) t-shirt. It’s got a merged female/male toilet sign on it, basically. Half toilet sign woman, half toilet sign man. All gender. So nothing outrageous, but enough to give him mild anxiety, which he gets  any time he wears something even slightly ‘risque’. However anxious he is, he soldiers on through it and it goes away quickly once we’re there. 

He gets to be open about things with my friends, which is something I enjoy. I love that I can provide him a social outlet, in normal settings, where he can wear, and talk about, anything he likes without fear of judgement. I’m hoping the more it happens, the easier things will become.

Since we’ve been together he’s been out socially wearing his heels in the company of other people (my brother has joined us on many outings), he’s told a couple of people at work and has started wearing leggings around his friends, to name a few things. Sometimes I think he forgets how far he’s come, but so far every reaction, every outing, every experience has been a positive one. 

But I’m glad that today he got to have a day of indulgence, both physical and emotional. I’m so lucky to share it with him.

I’m still around. I haven’t forgotten about here! Time has not been my friend. 

Every so often I look at Paul and still can’t believe my luck. Other times I look at him as we’re wearing matching pairs of jeans and envy how much better he looks in them! We quite often end up going out in matching outfits. 


This was us on Halloween. It was good fun and we pretty much look for any excuse to match. I dunno why? Sometimes I think I enjoy “twinning” more than Paul does.

Either way, every time I left him to go to the toilets or whatever I’d come back to find him being chatted up by men or women. Lucky I’m secure in our relationship!!! Though one girl got the stare down of a lifetime when she tried it on in front of me. I need not utter a word. My glare is such that she was not to be seen again! 

Anyway, I’m at work and super cranky. I needed to take a moment to think happy things. 🙂 Maybe one day I’ll finish off all those posts in my drafts folder, but not today. 


Paul and I discuss children a fair bit. We are planning to have one in the future (not quite yet) and we wonder about their upbringing, how we’ll approach various aspects of our lives etc. 

I’m 38, yes, I know, I’m getting old, hurry up blah blah. At this age babies, toddlers and small children take up a lot of Facebook space. 

I was scrolling through my feed this morning and saw a friends kid who woke up screaming that he’d lost his football teams flag. His Dad (who posted it) is a fanatical footy supporter, religious (one of those hillsong types) and a bloody fitness freak. His kids are avid in the pursuits of footy and religion too. Makes sense, that’s their normal. Mum & Dad love these things, this is just what you do on a Sunday. (Frankly, these types scare me. One eyed blind faith in things does not encourage open mindedness!) (oh, and fitness freaks can just fuck off, I don’t care how far you ran today or how many calories you burnt, could you be any more boring?)

Other friends are creative, arty types and so their child is growing up picking out records, drawing pictures, being in nature and exposed to all sorts of weird & wonderful people. Then there’s the science based parents with their kids rattling off names of dinosaurs, doing science experiments, going to museums and that kind of thing. Again, what their parents are interested in, whatever their normal is.

My science friends have a transgender friend. Do the kids know that’s she’s transgender? I don’t know. They just know her as Aunty and love her completely. Aunty is just Aunty to them, as she should be. (Couldn’t we all learn lessons from children?)

So how will we bring our kids up? The best we can, in our version of normal, just like everyone else does. The younger years are going to be the easy part though. What do we do if our child finds their own normal in their group of friends that doesn’t align with ours? I guess that’s a bridge to cross should we get there. Is Paul going to continue with dressing up? I will certainly encourage him to. If we can’t even accept it inside our homes then we’ve got no hope for an accepting society. If the child grows up with Paul always having dressed up then it’s just normal for Dad to do that. How will it impact on our child if other kids find out about it? Dunno yet. How is it going to impact on us if the kid blurts it out to those yet exposed? Dunno that, either. We can’t plan for that. Not yet at least! 🙂

We all get to make our own normal when it comes to families and I’m looking forward to making mine.

I like to think that Paul and I will make good parents. We’ve both battled a fair bit, we believe in communicating and we’re happy together. We want to travel with our child, expose them to different cultures, different people, different foods, different everything. I don’t want to indoctrine my child with one eyed views; whether that comes down to religion, art or science. I want for them to make their own discoveries and know that they’ll always have our support. 

I dunno. Just seeing my friends kid, clutching his teams flag whilst ensconced in his team themed bed… It just got me thinking. (Actually it scared the shit out of me, which is why I started thinking!)

the clothes maketh the (wo)man


, ,

I started this post 198 days ago. Might finish it now!! My ‘drafts’ folder has so many half written posts in it. 🙂


I look forward to getting old. Really old. 70’s, 80’s type old. There are certain liberties that come with each decade of ageing and I really enjoy exploiting them. I believe that old people are written off as a little bit senile or seen with a sense of ‘nawwww, good for them’ type attitude.

One of the common themes I see reading blogs, forums etc is wanting to live full time as a woman or transitioning. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to have the body of the wrong gender as I’m completely comfortable in mine. Paul enjoys his masculine side, transitioning isn’t on the cards. I wasn’t so sure about the full time living issue so I asked him.

As it is, he’s never really gone out fully dressed as a woman. He doesn’t think he’d pass, which is probably fair! I’m pretty good with make up, but doing it on a male face requires different techniques that I need to investigate further. I bought a bunch of cheap wigs from eBay (which turned out to be better quality than I was expecting) which we play around with. He dresses in something, we throw a wig and some glamourous sunglasses on and I turn into a photographer! I love taking sexy pictures and he’s a willing model. I’ll often dress in some sort of matching outfit. It’s generally part of our foreplay and it’s a lot of fun. But he’s not really been in public as a woman, he just wears what women wear., but as a male. Anyway, he doesn’t want to live full time either as a woman or just in women’s clothes at this stage in his life, he also enjoys his masculine side. It’s important that we maintain dressing up and socialising in public and I will absolutely ensure that happens!

Back to the getting old thing though, I told him that when we’re old, we’re both getting dressed up as little old grandmas and going out. When we’re greeted with “hello Ladies, how may I help you?” I want to be able to reply with “Ladies? That’s my husband!! lol lol lol lol lol”, just to see their faces, really.  I’d do it tomorrow, truth be told, but I want some goals left for old age. 🙂

I want a happy Paul. Taking care of his feminine side is important to his well being. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed or afraid to be seen with him when he’s dressed up. I actually rather enjoy it. I like interesting looking people and I really like being the interesting looking people! Though we usually hit up one of the LGBT clubs (still plenty of us hetero queers there!) as it’s somewhere we consider ‘safe’ and it has been. Plenty of interesting looking people there! We’re lucky, our club has a lovely outdoor area with seating areas and food available, so we spend most of our time out there as it’s easer to talk to randoms!

I’m also very lucky that having grown up goth, there’s a large portion of friends who have seen or have been weirder. Paul rocking a pair of purple tights or some leggings isn’t even going to raise an eyebrow, or if he decides to rock up in a skirt it wouldn’t be of any issue. Friends outside of my alternative circles, such as work friends, well they just have to put up with whatever I throw at them. They know that I’m different, enjoy different things and could not care less what anyone thinks.  They seem to still love me! 🙂 If it bothers them, I consider it their problem and not mine, I continue on as I am. Too bad for them! However, it is up to Paul how he wishes to dress in various social situations. It’s just nice for him to have the option and know that I’ll be behind him 100%

There have been a couple of occasions now where Paul has gone out with his friends (who don’t know about his cross dressing) wearing pretty much 100% women’s clothing. He wears shapewear under his clothes most days (let’s see how long that lasts come summer!) and women’s jeans more often than not. He likes them because they’re generally tighter and stretchier. He does bemoan the lack of pockets though. Can’t have everything!!

When Paul was first granted the freedom in my house to dress as he pleases it was a case of he’d get hard the second he put some tights on. We were discussing it the other night. I can’t recall what led to the conversation, but basically he doesn’t get hard the second he puts tights on now. Having the freedom to wear what he wants any time has kind of diminished the fetish side of it (it still pops up sometimes, depends what he puts on) which I think is good. It means it’s becoming his new normal. I barely notice these days that he’s come home and changed into tights etc. it’s  becoming my new normal too. 🙂

Paul has really started to find his style, which is great 🙂 He has started an Instagram account for his outfits and he’s started to get followers. Here’s a snapshot of it! I’m really pleased every time he announces that he has a new follower.

In the top row you will see on the right he’s actually out in the club dancing. I took most of these pics, apart from the obvious leg selfies. Bitch has such great legs. 😉


Shame is the name


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Something I see popping up all over the place when it comes to ‘alternative’ lifestyles is a feeling of shame, guilt and a whole bunch of other negative emotions. 

I know why there is this feeling, in a generic way. I mean that in the sense that I’m a cisgender heterosexual female. I’ve had sex with females in a threesome environment (MFF) but it by no means makes me a lesbian. I’ve wanted to don a strap on and fuck the life out of someone, and I have penis envy like you wouldn’t believe, but it by no means makes me confused about my gender. I’m a strong female, far more comfortable with guys than I am with girls. (I put that down to going to an all girls’ high school – hated it) I love sexuality and I love to explore it.

I suppose I’m a feminist, but I hate that term. I strongly believe in indivuality. Equality. We all have strengths and weaknesses and we need each other. Believe in yourself, be who you are. Respect you. Respect and believe in others. Sort the toilet seat out yourself. 

But the feeling of shame. There are times where it is appropriate and you need to feel it to grow emotionally. Most of the time that I hear about the feeling of shame it’s because of something that can’t be helped.

Most of you reading this are here because of cross dressing. You all have different journeys, but all the same in the sense that this is a part of who you are.

Please, please, I beg you, STOP feeling ashamed of who you are! It absolutely kills me, I get overwhelmed with sadness. I just want to reach out to you all and hug you! 

Embracing your true self is really hard, especially if you don’t have a support network. But you’ve got to start accepting who you are and start developing an expectation of people to accept you. Do not allow them to make you feel shamed. Your own shame validates theirs. You are a beautiful soul who has suffered enough. NO MORE! Ah, if only life were so easy.

Yes, it’s not out in the open ‘normal’. Even gay people, widely accepted, still struggle with stigma and name calling etc. Today at work a couple of us told our boss that referring to a guy as a ‘faggot’ is not acceptable. We’re not going to get fired for that, but the boss could (unlikely though!). My workplace (one of the emergency services)  is heavily male dominated. Very much a boys club. But things are changing. We’ve got a transgendered officer in charge of a station. Some of the guys are uncomfortable with it, particularly some of the older ones, but in general they’ve been great about it, even when they haven’t understood it. She’s open to discussion about it and has said that she’s received more support from her workplace than her family. I think it’s great she’s still in her job and I’d love to meet her one day to talk. 

I guess, in a long winded way, what I want to say is BE HONEST. Any foundation based on covering up and hiding the truth is going to crack and it’s generally irreparable. If the cracks are laid bare to start with, well you know what you’ve got to work with and just maybe they can be filled.

Accept yourself. Love yourself. Be yourself.

Only then do you give someone the opportunity to love you completely. But you must love yourself completely too.

For what it’s worth, I’m happy I found out about Paul on the first date. I valued his honesty, it wasn’t easy for him. It opened the door to an emotional intimacy I’ve never known and I’m not afraid to ask him about anything. He’s not afraid to answer.

But here we are, a year later, happiest we’ve ever been in our lives and planning our wedding. Paul will be wearing some kick ass white lingerie under his wedding outfit. I absolutely insist on it. Slowly but surely I’m working the shame out of his system. I can see it happening all the time. It’s gonna take a while, but every inch forward is a step closer and they add up! I can’t even imagine how liberating I am for him, and I’m not sure I can explain how liberating he is for me. 

But please, men, ladies and everyone in between, love & respect to self first and share it with others. Stop the shame. 

I love you all xx