Insert knife. Twist. Repeat.

As a preface, the comments to my blogs have been inspiring and comforting during a difficult period. Thanks for caring enough to share your thoughts. You have lightened my load.

Now, about that load. My wife and I had a "conversation" Saturday night. Rather, I told her Iwas more than just a crossdresser, that I have gender issues. Then she talked at me for quite some time. So much venom, so much bile. She really hates what I'm doing. That's quite clear now.

I think she also just hates the trans community in general. She went on about how we have no idea what it's like to be a woman. How many of the "women" in your little support group could pass as women? Aren't most of them deluding themselves? You'll never look like anything other than a man in women's clothes. You'll still have broad shoulders and no hips and a masculine face. You're living in a fantasy.

Although this is clearly all about her, she fell back on the kids, particularly the nine year old boy. "Whether you like it or not, you are a role model for him. When he starts getting hair on his arms and legs, he's going to wonder why his father doesn't. He'll be very confused. I stopped wearing makeup because I wanted my girls to know that you don't have to look glamorous to please a man."

News flash: Being hairless equals wanting to get a sex change. I hope this won't shock too many of my readers. Of course, there are only men and women in this world, nothing in between. A woman as conversant and knowledgeable about autism as she, should be able to conceive that gender is also on a spectrum. I'm just moving a little to the left, trying to achieve some balance, finding my comfort zone.

My wife is as liberal as they come. I don't know where all this is coming from. We've had gay friends; she didn't tell them off. I've upset the apple cart, and I don't know if I want to set it right. She will not be married to a woman, she says. Well, she may not be married to a man for long, either. I can get abuse on any street corner; I don't need it at home.

So, in summary, I am a wuss and my wife is a harpy. There's an old joke, the best way to get rid of 170 pounds of ugly fat is a divorce.

"I hope tomorrow you find better things" -- The Kinks