5 – Life with Wife

The wife and I have had one hiccup in our entire relationship, and it happened the night after Yanni. <dramatic pause> She broke up with me.

W T F?

We had had a great date, cuddled the entire concert, took transit back to near her place, and walked to a Boston Pizza where we stayed until near closing (I think we were there til 1:30am). Nothing had gone wrong. Which, apparently, was the problem. It was too good to be true for her.

So, like George Costanza I would not turn my key. I was not letting her break up with me after one date. Especially because it was a good date, damnit. 🙂

Within that first year of dating, my lovely wife met Jessica. That name was my second choice, my first choice being a best friend’s name, and that’s just weird. So, I thought of Jesse James and came up with Jessica Jaymz. A perfect stripper name. Jessica was still rough around the edges. Makeup was horrible, as I have a very dark 5 o’clock shadow that is ever present. Immediately after shaving, it’s there. The wife is my greatest supporter, and my greatest critic (besides myself) – which is more helpful than it sounds. 🙂

I would wear women’s clothing around the house. Not a lot, but mostly just a skirt when I could. I was still a bit gun shy from the previous relationship. It’s not like I was completely dressing up, but little things would make me feel nice. Not once did she complain.

I’d dress up completely on occasions. No where near as often as I’d like. At the time, it was an ordeal to do, so that I looked up to my standards (I never did, but I got close a few times). It would take me between 1 and 2 hours to get dressed. Often we’d have that friend over that was my confidant, Glenda. That way I could express myself to 2 people instead of just the wife. I was realizing I wanted an audience. I wanted to be related to as Jessica. I wanted to relate as Jessica.

There was a small problem with this, I’ve realized recently. I was still protecting myself. I was a boyfriend and, later, a husband. I was the male in the relationship (my wife will laugh at that). I couldn’t appear too soft, too feminine. I’d ruin things. So, the Jessica I was showing, was still mostly just a guy in a dress. Oh sure, some of Jessica was getting through. But not all of her / me.

The effort involved, combined with the not quite fully satisfying expression of self, led to some lengthy periods of  ‘Jessica suppression’. My wife never understood why I didn’t dress up more. It was so obviously something I wanted and needed. But it was becoming more frustrating than relieving, more aggravating than comforting.

On our trip to Ireland, I was listening to an audio book. The book was George Carlin’s autobiography (I highly recommend this book). The theme running through the whole thing was about being true to yourself, and how you limit yourself in life by not being true. This struck a chord with me SO deeply that I cried while listening to several sections of the book. I determined at that point that I was coming out. As the wrong thing. I was going to come out as a cross dresser.