Frustration…


There is a moment in all our lives as crossdressers where things don’t work out as we expect. For many crossdressers, it’s simply impossible to “reveal themselves” and thus this mean that there is no way, ever, to predict when there will be an opportunity to dress again. For us who regularly crossdress at home, but our significant others are not exactly over-excited about it, it means that lots of things “may happen” that will frustrate the best laid-out plans.

The first lesson to learn is that the universe is not out there to conspire against you; but neither is your s.o. or family “conspiring” against you to prevent you to dress. It only appears to be so. In reality, what happens is that you will enhance the importance of crossdressing to be your utmost priority and the only thing that will give you a tiny taste of happiness, even if you recognise that it doesn’t last for long — a few hours, a day or two, a week if your’re lucky — but then the daily grind will catch up with you once more. Again, it’s not that this daily routine is “terrible” in itself: in this case, the reverse mechanism is being applied: you exaggerate how badly things are on the day-to-day, neverending routine, and wish to escape from it by crossdressing.

So the only person that thinks “crossdressing is good and makes me feel happy” and “the daily routine is terrible and only makes me suffer (while I wait at last for another opportunity to crossdress” is you. For instance, a not-too-encouraging (but tolerant) Significant Other might have the reverse view: she might love the daily routine and hate when you crossdress, because it means she cannot enjoy her routine any longer.

Obviously there are exceptions: couples where crossdressing is part of the daily routine have no such qualms. They might still be unhappy — for instance because both have to work, come home tired, and having the hubby crossdressing to enjoy a moment of wild sex might be too exhausting for both. So they can become frustrated as well. I know a few couples where the crossdressing hubby, mostly too tired during the week for any “bed activity”, just wears some female clothes and spends the rest of the evening dressed (either fully or just partially) but just goes on with the house chores and the “daily routine at home”. Sure, he’s crossdressed, even if just partially, but he’s not really fully enjoying it.

There are also degrees of enjoyment from crossdressing, which are different for each of us. For some, the full enjoyment comes only from having sex while dressed, either with the s.o. or with another partner. A second level of enjoyment might come from going out with some CD friends, even if sex is not part of the plans. A third level is just getting fully dressed and staying at home. If all else fails, shopping for clothes, makeup, and accessories — either on physical shops or online ones — might be the next-to-lowest  level of pleasure and satisfaction. And if not even that is possible, well, watching videos of happy crossdressers, chatting with some of them online, or just blogging about crossdressing is the lowest possible level. Beyond that is just frustration.

During a crossdressing session, even one apparently successful one, frustration levels also vary. You might get frustrated because your current outfit, which you had selected so carefully in your dreams before the target day, doesn’t fit at all. Or it fits but you look terrible. Or it did fit you last year, or five years ago, or a decade ago, but suddenly — because you have physically and mentally changed — it doesn’t look as right as before. But even when you pick up the “right” combination, spend your time getting dressed, and the result looks nice, things can still go wrong. If you go out, full of confidence, and are immediately spotted and “read”, it might spoil your evening — all that trouble just to get spotted just at the start of your enjoyment! And on a day where you looked particularly passable, too! What could be worse? You might “not be in the mood” any longer and just drive back home, remove the makeup, and go straight to bed.

In my case, this usually doesn’t happen — I tend to enjoy all the moments while I’m dressed, even if the outfit does not fit, or people start yelling at me on the many chatrooms I go — but tiredness will always spoil the evening. While I might feel sexy and alluring at the moment I finally get out of the bathroom fully dressed, after being dressed several hours, and chatting with fellow CDs, I get tired. My first symptoms of being tired is when I don’t feel sexy any more. I can smile at my own face in the mirror, pinch my breastforms, stroke my unnameables, but that won’t work — tiredness is the most effective drug against sexyness, at least in my case, and no, it’s not a question of drinking more coffee. At some point, the corset, which fit me so well, starts chafing. The heels are hurting my feet. The bra straps are cutting deep gorges on my shoulders. The makeup is starting to irritate my eyes (which are already drowsy from tiredness). The hairdress, after so much careful grooming and combing, finally gives up its spirit and just looks shabby. And the beard stubbles finally conquer over the heavy foundation I use and start to show, even in bad light. At that point, no matter what I do, it’s too late: all the pleasure from crossdressing is gone. I might still drive myself onwards by sheer willpower, but the spirit is broken.

One way I used to deal with that — but cannot do any longer — was just to change environment: this mostly meant just going out for a bit. Then I’d get an immediate adrenaline rush and the strong surge of sexyness that would drive me on to walk to my car and drive around for a bit, or even go out and walk on the sidewalk, listening to the sound of the heels clacking on the cobblestones. So, in a sense, intensifying the crossdressing experience would somehow bring back the spirit of pleasure associated with crossdressing. But, alas, there is a limit — a day has just 24 hours, and at some point I have to get back to “reality”, even if it’s just by sleeping a few hours, and no matter what I do, there is no way to sustain the pleasure of crossdressing any longer. The mind is willing, but the body is weak 🙂

I should be considered a very lucky person by the standards of most crossdressers. After all, I’m allowed to crossdress at home. My femme clothes are stored in the common wardrobe that I share with my wife and with my male self (who takes the least space in it), so it doesn’t get wrinkled, neither does it acquire any stuffy, mouldy smell from being stored in a “hidden place” (like the trunk of the car, where I used to store them before revealing myself to my wife). The makeup I wear is in a cupboard in the bathroom, and there is no difference between “my” makeup and my wife’s makeup. And the best of everything is that I curently am a telecommuter and a remote student, meaning that I really don’t need to work 9-to-5, and can stay at home for as long as I wish. I have no kids, and my cat doesn’t worry in the least if I’m crossdressed or not. And, of course, I have a wife who consents to my crossdressing. What could be more ideal?

However, in this life, there is no “perfect” environment, no matter how hard we look for it. It’s true that I can crossdress at home often — at least once per week, sometimes twice — but I will never know in advance when my wife doesn’t want me to. The best days are often spoiled because she “suddenly” decides that she has to go out shopping for groceries (even though we did the weekly supermarket shopping the day before), and, since she doesn’t drive, and there is no public transportation in our neighbourhood, I have no choice but to “play driver”. This ruins the whole day, even though it’s just half an hour. Of course — some might say — I could drive dressed as Sandra. I wouldn’t mind! But to aggravate issues, my wife doesn’t want for me to go out dressed as Sandra (I’ve written a lot about that and so won’t repeat it again). So while theoretically I could combine both experiences — crossdressing and being my wife’s driver — in practice she doesn’t allow me to, and it’s all just because the way her mind works. I cannot change that. The only thing I can do is change my own mind, and be content about the few scarce opportunities I have, which, compared to many other crossdressers, might look like an incredible amount of freedom and luck.

There was an interesting article at the Suddenly Fem shop’s blog which talked a bit about the different “stages” of revelation to one’s Significant Other. The author of this article, a genetic female who has a lot of experience in dealing with crossdressers, explains that, according to her, it’s sometimes easy enough for s.o.’s to accept one’s crossdressing, but that being public about it might be pushing too much. Going out, even in the middle of the night, even when I’m not going to any particular place, is being seen by our beloved ones as “going public”, and the first reaction is rejection. In a sense, what that means is that crossdressing should be a private activity and not spill out to the public sphere, and so long as that is maintained, crossdressing is allowed.

On another forum — which is in Portuguese — some of us were discussing about how lately our respective s.o.’s seem to be constraining us more and limiting our own time to crossdress, even though they have been very tolerant so far. What is happening? I thought a lot about it, and I think that two different things are becoming more significative. The first is that, like all habits, we crossdressers tend to think that it’s never enough. If you’re able to crossdress once per year only — because you take a week off from family and work and have some time for yourself — you wish to crossdress more than once per year. If you can do it every month, you wish to do it once per week. If you do it every week, you want to do it every day. If you do, indeed, crossdress every day — like so many actually do — you wish you could be crossdressed 24h/7, i.e. not only do it at home or among your circle of CD/TS/TG friends, but all the time, at work and all. Effectively, at that stage, there might be little difference between a “full-time crossdresser” and a transitioned MtF transexual, even if one doesn’t look at oneself as such. At each stage, there are obstacles and barriers to prevent us to do what we wish. Some of them are clearly just inside our mind: e.g. the fear of the reaction of our Significant Others (or the rest of the family and friends) if you “reveal” yourself. But that fear is just inside our minds — nevertheless, it’s very hard to overcome. Other obstacles seem to be external and impossible to overcome: what should you do if your s.o. simply says “no”? The choice is sticking with her or abandoning her and go on with your own life as a crossdresser. So while you technically have a choice, that choice is incredibly hard to make.

Recently, however, I seem to be surrounded by CD acquaintances who simply couldn’t stand it any longer and just went ahead with their lives, transitioning to women. As I’ve said elsewhere, what surprised me most was that they weren’t that regular in their crossdressing before. But for most of us, that radical choice is not very practical. Also, many regret the loss of a s.o. and wish they could have kept the relationship; in most cases, it’s actually the s.o. that severs the relationship — not the CD — so in a sense there is “no way back” even if one promises never to crossdress again. It’s too late for that!

The second aspect, which was questioned by some of my acquaintances, was a rising feeling that our s.o. may somehow be a bit scared and perhaps even jealous of our crossdressing. Again, people will react in different ways, but it’s legitimate to assume that the more you practice crossdressing, the better you will be. With enough sessions, walking in heels becomes second nature. Do your makeup once a week, and after a few years, you’ll be better at it than your own wife (specially if she doesn’t weak makeup so often, but just for special social events). Even simple things like doing your nails and painting them, given enough practice, become commonplace. My own wife, even though she has formal training in the Fine Arts, does only some minimalistic makeup, and only once or twice per year, always using the same simple technique she learned when she was a teenager and went out every night. She has a firm hand and an excellent grasp at colours, but, well, she doesn’t have the practice that I do — or the patience. She shrugs it off saying that she cannot do anything without her glasses (which is true), but I often remarked that I’d be more than happy doing the makeup for her, which she rejects — a common reaction of hers is to reject that I do something that she feels I’m not good at. But, humbleness apart, I am good with my makeup. Not a pro, not a specialist, but I know enough of it to be experienced — experienced enough, for example, to match the makeup with what I’m wearing. My wife is still stuck at using the two colours she always used for eons, no matter what she’s wearing.

Similarly, while it took me eons to learn properly, I can paint my own fingernails quite quickly and efficiently. These days, I hardly even need to “wipe off” the corners where the nail polish is off. My biggest struggle is with low-quality products that aren’t uniform, or too runny, or simply not opaque enough for my taste, and in those cases, I might not get it right at the first time. Now I’m not claiming I can do my nails as well as a pro. They will look always a bit amateurish under close scrutiny. But I paint them better than my sister-in-law (who always wears them short but painted). When I offered to do the same to my wife — it’s far easier to paint someone else’s nails than our own — she shrugged it off and never accepted my offer of help.

Why?

According to the discussions with some other CDs, we speculate that there is a psychological thing going on in our s.o.’s minds. Somehow, even if they don’t admit it to themselves, they’re recognising that, at least in some cases (or in some details), we’re truly getting better at “acting” female — at being female — than they are. We should not forget that in this age women are encouraged to think, act, and work like men — even though, fortunately, there is a counter-culture of Third Wave Feminism encouraging women to act and look like women, while still behaving in an acceptable way in a still-male-dominated environment. But for some — like my wife — there is a long battle that has ultimately be lost: being female takes too much time, too much effort. Being constantly swamped with images of beautiful models everywhere, plain and common women just feel frustrated — they will never look like that. Some, of course, don’t care how they look — they just do the best they can with the bodies they have, and still enjoy all benefits of looking female (in a sense, with very much the same enthusiasm as many crossdressers!). I usually give my mother-in-law as the best example of this — she’s incredibly elegantly dressed, all the time, and takes good care of her face, her makeup, her nails, and so forth, to the tiniest details, without looking garish or out of place. But she is, in fact, a very plain woman, without any significant feature that would draw one’s attention to her — it’s the whole ensemble of clothes, accessories, and carefully applied makeup that makes her stand out in a crowd and look truly elegant and feminine. Even my own mother, who, at 75, looks obviously old and due to excessive suntanning in the beach in the 1960s, is all wrinkled up, does some effort to look as fine as a female as possible. My own wife — like so many others — even though she’s actually much better-looking than her own mother (or my own), or even more than her own sister (who suffers from morbid obesity; which never stopped her to try to do her makeup as best as she can and wear the best clothes and accessories she can use), just gave up “looking female” years ago (in fact, well before we met).

So it might be that she isn’t too happy with my own results. And, in fact, there is really a huge difference from my pictures from 2005, when I first started crossdressing in front of her. So much that I have slowly removed free access to those old pictures, they simply don’t please me at all, and I truly looked horrible in them. Not only horrible, but also uncomfortable — like a fish out of water. I was not only “a guy in drag” but “a guy suffering a lot of pain to be in drag and trying to deal with it”, in the sense that nothing I did was “natural”, but forced and constrained. Well, of course, it was the best I could do at that time, but it simply wasn’t enough. And my wife was keen to tell me that I could never go out looking like that until I got a bit more confidence in what I was doing and started looking a bit more natural.

A lot happened in the past years. I’m reaching the limits of what I can do with clothes, accessories, and makeup, and since I have a limited wardrobe (who hasn’t? 🙂 ), there is not much more that I can “improve” externally, without going a more radical route (i.e. hormones and surgery). Even though the pictures and videos I post don’t truly capture the reality — I make sure to get the best angles under the most appropriate lighting 🙂 — the changes, I think, are mostly internal. For instance, I learned how to smile all the time — in my pictures in 2005, I rarely smiled, because I was aiming for the “sexy seductress” look, which took me quite a while to understand that it’s very, very hard to get, specially if you’re encumbered by the wrong biological body. Smiling, by contrast, will change your face 180 degrees towards a display of womanliness, and it makes a huge difference. But there is far more to it: it’s not just walking in heels as if it’s second nature and I never used any other kind of shoes, but it’s the whole posture. At the beginning, I had to make a conscious effort to “look female” in my postures and poses, but now I don’t even need to think about it; it happens naturally. There are still some things I cannot do: it’s hard to cross one’s legs very naturally when encumbered with a) relatively low chairs when I’m tall (and wearing high heels!) and b) a corset. I can do it, but not on any kind of seat. In spite of all those limitations, I think that I can project an image of self-assurance as a female, most of the time. I still catch myself slouching, or forgetting to tuck in the elbows, and all sort of small “mistakes” that crossdressers so often do, but I’m getting better and better. I sometimes even practice in male mode: the beauty of it is that nobody truly notices, specially if I’m with my wife (and thus are automatically labeled as a heterosexual male, and my body posture is not deemed “strange” — it’s fun to see how people think and react!). In any case, there are a lot of differences of what I do now compared to how I moved and behaved in 2005, even though most of you wouldn’t know (the videos are phantasies where I’m essentially acting — it’s good practice for me to see them afterwards and notice what I’ve been doing wrong).

But I seriously suspect that my wife notices the differences. Sure, I might not move and behave like her own super-elegant mother; but my movements and behaviour are more fitting for an “average” female, and I’m sure that she cannot fail to notice that. One of the reasons she gave (not the true reason, but one of them) for not allowing me to drive crossdressed is that I’m too nervous when crossdressing, fumbling with things, not picking up objects correctly, and all that would destroy my concentration while driving, and so it would be dangerous for me. She was right to a degree. When gluing false nails, I tended to have some trouble with them. My first exercise was to learn to type as fast with long fingernails as without them (it takes some practice, too!); and then to try to do most house chores with the nails. But since I’m always worrying that they might get unstuck (which happens often, specially in the most embarassing moments!), I tend to be a bit overprotective, and this leads to “fumbling”. Growing my own nails helped me a lot to get my hand movements right (I’m still a bit overprotective while the nail polish is drying!). I’ve also learned how hard it is to pick up small objects; or how to turn the hand, or move the fingers, so that I can grasp objects without fear of breaking a nail or ruining the polish. That took me a quite a while to master, but… I’m getting there, even without overlong nails (they’re passable most of the time — my wife and my sister-in-law just noticed them twice or three times), because now I practice every day. So, no more fumbling with keys, opening zippers (useful because my purse has them!), stashing handkerchiefs in pockets, and so forth — even picking up cigarettes and placing them in the holder is done differently these days, just because of all that training.

Again, I suspect that my wife is paying attention to all that, and, who knows… she might not be very comfortable with that. She might, on one hand, be a bit worried (and perhaps jealous) that I’m doing progress, and what I will demand next as result of that progress. She might even think that unless she keeps me in check I might just “go over the other side”. And she might be even right in assuming that!!

There are amateur runners who train every day, and do it for their own pleasure (or health reasons), and be content with the daily jog. Others, however, no matter how amateurish they are, dream of participating on one of the many marathons that are held worldwide, and work towards not only entering the competition, but of being able to finish it. They might be very honest with themselves and not expect a gold medal, or even be in the ranks of the pros, but just be content that they have participated and finished a race. Once they finish their very first race, they will continue to practice to participate in the next one. Now imagine that this amateur runner is constantly being checked by their own families, who see their progress, and how much effort they’re doing to be able to compete, and start blocking his attempts, fearing that they might “lose” their husband and father to sports competition — because a professional athlete trains 8 hours per day, has a lot of requirements in diet and so forth, and leads a completely different life than a “normal” person who is not a professional athlete. Well, if this story is told to anyone, it would be laughable — no serious wife would ever dream of preventing her beloved husband, an amateur runner, to train and participate in a public marathon, where they have no chance to win but feel content to participate and even finish.

When it comes to crossdressing, I don’t see any difference. I see myself as an “amateur woman” in training, and I do my training every week or so at home, under controlled conditions, and I see some improvements and progress due to that. I cannot “compete” with a “professional woman” (that is, a genetic one) but that doesn’t mean I cannot “participate” in typically outdoor “woman activities”, and while I won’t get a “prize”, I’ll be content just to be able to “participate” 🙂 That’s all I aim for, that’s all I need.

Unfortunately, the message from my wife is clear enough: “you can ‘train’ at home, but forget about ‘competing’ in public”. And this is a source of tremendous frustration for me.

Of course I’m aware that the “frustration” doesn’t just magically disappear by going out. Then I will have to face the naked reality of truth, which is that I will be “read”, probably laughed at, get funny looks, nasty comments, and, if I’ extremely unlucky, even aggressive words or even offers of violence. That all might happen, and theseobviously will be new sources of frustration. One way I “train” myself for that is to go “public” with my pictures, videos, and open webcam sessions — where obviously I get all the above (except physical violence — there is safety being behind a computer!). Of course at the beginning it was very frustrating to be “read” and be the target of so much verbal abuse or plain laughter, specially on a day that I thought I was actually looking quite well on the webcam. Today, I merely laugh and joke with the ones directing their mirth or aggressive words at me — I’ve learned to outgrow the frustration of “not looking quite right”, and play with others’ own insecurities using sarcasm and irony; they will quickly give up. While online experience cannot replace the experience in the real world — specially because I look much worse “in flesh and blood” than on a webcam in a controlled environment — it’s certainly a good first training towards dealing with my own expectations (which are far too high) and the resulting frustration (because I delude myself in thinking I’m actually good at passing, when clearly others will “read” me in an instant). In my daily Buddhist practice, we use a lot of methods and techniques to practice first with simple things to get a taste of what it looks like on the more advanced levels — there is a progression, and beginners are encouraged to take small steps at first, to learn how they can deal with it, before they go to a further level, where there will be way more serious obstacles.

Crossdressing, like any other human activity (including meditation!), is about dealing with a lot of obstacles, most of them internal: dealing with one’s self-image; building up confidence in what we’re doing; learning a lot of methods and techniques to “become female”, some of which are hard to do because we’re simply not used to it (like walking on heels or applying makeup); and mostly dealing with the frustration from each obstacle we encounter. Some of those obstacles are not strictly related to male crossdressers, but apply to women as well: for example, dealing with the idea that we have not a perfect body of a supermodel and that some clothes will never fit us. But we can learn how to use corsets and padding and using different styles of clothes to give the illusion of a better shape — women do it all the time and learn it since their teens. Getting frustrated because you don’t have the “perfect” body that only surgery and hormones will “fix” is not a way to deal with the issue: firstly, because there are tricks you can use (so there is no need to be frustrated), and secondly, because, well, if all else fails, and you’re really serious about it, you can always resort to hormones and surgery…

But the hardest obstacles by far are the ones that are external to you. Ultimately, of course, there aren’t really any “external” obstacles, just the way your mind looks upon them as obstacles, but that takes a completely different kind of “training” — a mind training, not a training in the arts of womanliness. And sometimes the answers to deal with that kind of frustration are very hard to swallow. For example, if my wife never allows me to go out, I have to learn to be content merely with crossdressing at home, and don’t crave going out, ever again. But learning to be content with what we have is very, very hard.

So currently I do these two “trainings”. On one hand, every time I have an opportunity and my wife doesn’t constrain me, I try to crossdress for a few hours, and improve my image, my movements, and my behaviour. I go to online webchat rooms to test out my self-assurance and my image, and deal with the “exposure” to the public, just to see how I react. This is the training to overcome my internal fears and lack of confidence, and to be honest, I’m generally happy with the results. While I still believe that I would have a hard time going out in public in plain daylight and facing a friend, the more I train, the less I worry about that actually happening — except for the consequences of such an encounter, which are out of my ability to deal with (e.g. the friend wishing never to see me again, calling up my wife and parents and telling all about it, and so forth). I think I could handle some of those reactions, but not all — my parents, for example, would definitely want me to enter a mental asylum 🙂 [as a side note, if that meant contacting a specialist in gender disphoria, that would ultimately mean I’d get diagnosed as a transexual, and helped out during transition — which would be exactly what I’d like, but it would drive my parents insane, and possibly kill them indirectly — they’re already very old]

The other training is, however, much harder: it’s the one dealing with the external conditions that prevent me from crossdressing, and over which I have absolutely no control. On the lowest end are the sudden changes of mind of my wife which cancel one of my crossdressing sessions in unpredictable ways — for example, I’m typing this while patiently waiting for her sister to call, because she wants me to drive her to her sister’s home. But her sister might never call. She might only call in 4 or 5 hours, and tell her that she’s too ill with a cold and doesn’t want any visits today (which is the most likely thing to happen) — making me waste the whole day, which is just perfect for crossdressing (no pending urgent work, nice, warmish weather for December, good sunlight, and new nail polish to try out). This kind of thing happens all the time. Sometimes I ask her early in the morning if she has any plans for the day, and she says no, but when she sees me shaving, she “suddenly” remembers that, after all, it would be nice to go out and buy a lettuce (even though we were the day before at the grocery) or some tooth paste, and so I should cancel my crossdressing plans for today. This is the kind of frustration that is very hard to deal with. I start thinking about all the “what if” scenarios — if I had remembered to ask the day before if it wouldn’t be a good idea to buy some lettuce too, then I could crossdress today. If I had remembered to ask earlier about the lettuce, then I could just go out and buy it quickly, and return back home in time for another CD session (after all, it just takes half an hour to buy a lettuce and drive back!). If my wife had no qualms about letting me drive her while crossdressed, I could simply dress up, pick up the car, drop her at the grocery (or at her sister’s), drive around a bit, have some fun, pick her up again, and so forth — I would just combine the crossdressing with her impossible and completely unpredictable demands, making us both happy, and making this obstacle disappear.

Instead, I have to accept that these obstacles will exist, that they will come up unexpectedly at any time, that they will always be irrational, illogical, and made up on the spur of the moment, and if I don’t comply with them, she’ll be angry and aggressive for the whole day, and possibly even create more obstacles in the future. So I have to learn to be more patient, look at those obstacles she creates for me as just an expression of her own way to show fear or anxiety at my improved crossdressing — which apparently is starting to make her unhappy — and pushing her unhappiness into my face is the only way she has to deal with the issue.

Earlier this year, I had the plan to do more crossdressing in 2011 than in 2010; I wanted to remain a few days, possibly even a week, crossdressed all the time; and I wanted to drive around crossdressed a few more times. All these plans went down the drain of frustration and disappointment. Even when I alluded that due to my wife’s bad planning, I could have enjoyed more moments of crossdressing, she never agreed to my simple plan: there are days with fixed schedules, social or otherwise, where I will never be able to crossdress. So all her “impulsiveness” in forcing me to drive her to do the most illogical and irrational chores should be restricted to those days — and only those days. For example, if we are planning to go out for lunch with my own parents, it’s obvious that I will not have time to crossdress afterwards; that day is perfect to go out and buy groceries. If there is a planned event at our Buddhist centre, I will obviously not crossdress that day (even though high-level Buddhist practitioners are supposedly free of concepts, none of us is that advanced yet 🙂 ), so I’ll be happy to waste all day doing chores for her. These days are very frequent and regular, giving her plenty of opportunities to waste my time with a clear conscience of not creating any obstacles to my crossdressing — the obstacles are already there, she has nothing to do with them. But it also leaves a lot of days free for me to crossdress at will. Just jumping at me out of the blue with a sudden impulsive need which will completely waste a day is, well, unfair.

Since the person who experiences that unfairness is just me, I have to work harder at dealing with that, and practice more contentment. That is just very, very hard to do. But — like with crossdressing in general — I have no other choice but to practice contentment as well, and I’m sure I can only get better and better at it over time.