Nocturnal Wenchy

I barely made it past the second year of marriage before going through the “getting caught (crossdressing) and promising to abstain” routine.

Seven years later and nothing but the carcass of life remained, the lights were on but nobody home. The last thought before (finally) succumbing to sleep usually entailed a familiar prayer: To be spared the agony of awakening, only to be forced to breathe through another day of a dull, dreary and meaningless existence.

It may be incomprehensible for most but dressing up lies at the core of a person like me’s psyche. Without the outlet expression provides, one tends to whither away. I was “morbidly depressed” but too much of a coward to do anything about it.

The message was clear: Either grow courage (yes, kill yourself) or re-negotiate. It was tough, but I managed to do a bit of both: I grew the courage to re-negotiate. It got worse, the fall-out more nuclear than anticipated in the worst of nightmares. But, somehow my wife had to learn to hold the “moral high ground” over your crossdressing husband does not guarantee victory in every argument. BOTH parties in a relationship have the right to some measure of happiness. “Happy wife, Happy life” is the single biggest lie sold to men (and some women for that matter) everywhere. If it doesn’t read “Happy spouse, Happy house” you’re headed for trouble.

It was terrible. Still, now, some days play out worse. Arguments tend to bring out your most primal instincts. The price of hurt (by both parties) is incomprehensible but somehow we are working through it whilst managing to not split ways.

I’ll highlight one lesson I’ve learnt (through all the strife) regarding women which I hope will help someone somewhere: They are resilient enough to adapt to things and circumstances that really don’t suit them and they’d rather do without. They can (even somehow) regain their (inevitable) loss of libido (for you) experienced after seeing “their man” fully decked out as a woman the first time. (Though I suspect this is not universal and provided you don’t insist on making “undesirable” items part of your love life). But… But…

If there is one area you need to know you are seriously mining for shit it’s this: Lying to her. That’ll get you EVERY time and is the reason why Jenny’s life is an open book to her now. At any given time on any day, she has the ability to check up on what Jenny is getting up to on every conceivable platform. No more secrets.

Footnote: A friend (rightfully) pointed out that though my journey may have been a matter of life and death, my wife’s was one of her own choosing. I salute her for that, she could (very easily) have opted to walk away blamelessly.

Thank you, my love. ❤️

Jenny occasionally blogs at jennydoeswriting

She also contributed to my August Woman’s Month Guest Posts in 2016, so check it out:  So let’s get this out the way … I’m a crossdresser