Tomorrow, in the company of some friends I will be attending Swindon Pride. (Looks at clock) No, today in the company of some friends I will be attending Swindon Pride. This one's been on the calendar for a while, anticipated because it's a rare chance for me for an outing in the real world en femme.
So far so good. Unfortunately though it probably isn't going to happen as I've described it above, I fully intend to be there but it's looking as though I'll be there in my everyday oversized bloke guise, scruffy jeans, stubble and all. Why? It has become obvious that such a lengthy public excursion en femme in her company has edged outside my wife's comfort zone. What was previously acceptable has retreated into the dangerous as the moment of its occurrence has approached, and to avoid a difficult afternoon for both of us it's probably easiest if I just forgo the dressing and go along in bloke mode.
On one side I don't think she's fully aware what the chance to go out as girl means in terms of my needing the feminine expression to stop myself going potty, but on the other side it's obvious that this has become too much for her at the moment and I have no desire to push things. This condition has told me more than I ever needed to know about stress and depression, so why should I wish to bestow those problems upon her?
So tomorrow the chances are I'll be bloke all day. It's not all bad, as bloke I avoid all that tedious getting ready, the endless agonising about my choice of outfit, makeup or even shoes. After all, who in their right mind would want that!