Conflicted

(Note: This is a new home for a blog I have been writing for nearly a year on Yahoo 360. Most of what you will see here will be crossposts, and I may well endeavor to bring some of my favorite older entries into the mix. Thanks to Lori for laying down the gauntlet and getting my ass in gear.)

A lot of mixed emotions tonight. Saturday was support meeting night, my one night a month when I get to be full-on Leslie, and not just a haphazardly crossdressing mope in the basement at 3am. So there's a lot of joy in going to see my friends, and in stretching my legs, gender-wise.

I wore the same dress that I wore last month. Why, you ask, would any self-respecting woman wear the same thing twice in a row? Well, it's far and away my favorite and most flattering outfit, something that I worked up to wearing for many months. Last month, I had hoped to have my picture taken in it, but there were no cameras to be had at the meeting. So, with promises from my best friends, I re-created the magic of the last meeting. I feel so good in that dress. A person can garner so much self-confidence simply by taking pleasure in their appearance.

Tina came through with the camera, and I will have photos with her and Shandy soon. But it doesn't end there. Tina and Shandy had intended to coerce me into following them to a motel room for more fun and photos. Nothing lurid, just time together, which has never happened outside a meeting. And I wanted to go so badly. Tina is quite the corruptress. The event was wrong for me on so many levels, especially the ways that it violates the covenant between the wife and me. Let's see, public crossdressing, pictures of me crossdressing, spending time with people that my wife wouldn't trust to tell her she was on fire. And I very nearly went anyway.

But, ultimately, I couldn't see an hour of forbidden fun being the thing that finally undoes my marriage. It just wasn't worth the risk. My conscience, speaking with my wife's voice, just kept talking me down off the ledge. My superego can benchpress five ids without breaking a sweat. The devil on my shoulder never had a chance.

And then, I came home, ten minutes early even, and my wife is falling asleep in the bed. Previous meeting nights she has expected to go out when I return, drink some alcohol, and then share some quality bed time. But not tonight. It would have been a perfect night to be with my friends, but I chose my sleeping wife instead. I'm not sure if that makes me a loser or a hero, but I know how I would judge it at this moment.

I don't for a minute want to insinuate that Tina and Shandy shouldn't have tempted me. In fact, I hope they do it again. It's just going to have to be something that I do with the very real knowledge that it could be a dealbreaker for a very long and twisted marriage. I will have to go in with a plan, and an alibi, and the name of a good divorce lawyer, just in case. I nearly started to cry at one moment, as I felt like I was being torn in half by my dilemma. Maybe this makes me a masochist, but it was an exquisite pain, one that made me feel alive, even as I was denying its power.

I have to figure a way to make this double life thing work. We all deserve to pursue our dreams, don't we? Don't we?