I must apologize and explain in advance - this is likely to be long and a bit of a rant. I do support my sweetie's CDing, at least in theory. But just as if he fished or golfed 24/7, there would be parts that would drive me absolutely batshit, there are parts of this that drive me batshit. I probably just need to unload today while he's away on business and I'm both missing him and all the stuff that's crazy-making has stuffed up my head somewhat!
A little background. We've been together around 2.5 years. Sort of evolved into being together, rather than dating, moving in, etc. We had been working together on a project (we both are self employed) for a couple of years, long distance, and I had come from TX to SC to work with him for a month or so. There had always been phenomenal sexual chemistry between us, but he was dating a friend of mine, so it was just serious flirting and nothing more. But man, the electricity was like nothing I've ever felt - just raw fireworks. The same for him - as ya'll know, you don't get that kind of flame unless it's mutual.
A couple years ago, I came out here for a month. During that time, the world fell apart - finances, car died, roommate moved out and left me high and dry, etc. I was ready for a change and couldn't quite get back to TX and decided to move to SC. He said I could stay with him until I could get my own place. Well, you guys guessed the rest. It has now evolved into a long-term committed relationship - we would get married except that both of us have done 2 divorces and neither of us has the stomach for another wedding. He's a phenomenal man, and we work together very well - we have now sorta merged the businesses - and he is fascinating and brilliant and fun and loving and quite frankly, a real blast and a half.
He had always told me that he "wasn't normal", but I thought he meant that he was adventurous, out of the box thinker - that sort of thing. Never once guessed that this mustachioed cowboy scientist CDed. I figured there was a kink in there somewhere, and eventually guessed that maybe he liked panties. He had to tell me that he dresses all the way up, and that he likes men when he's dressed, (or dresses when he's interested in men? Which comes first - chicken or egg?) and women when he's being male. I felt so sad for him - he was so scared to tell me, so determined to actually get the truth out early before he fell hard for me, so garbled in saying it that I had to really work to understand the words, much less the meaning of it.
Well, I thought about it. We were still in that semi-monogamous stage where you *can* date other people, but it probably isn't a great idea. Now, my best friend is bi, and I have watched her struggle with trying to limit herself to one gender choice and so I thought I could handle this - the guy part of him would be *my* guy and the girl part of him would be - uh - free to play.
We tried that a couple of times and man, I just don't like to share. At all. I had warned him about this, and finally told him a while back that I came to the conclusion that screwing around is screwing around no matter who is wearing what or whether its male or female or shemale or whatever. Period. So, he's cut the personal visits out, but he still cyber sexes. That rankles - it's not quite the same thing as just plain smut surfing, as there's some sort of interpersonal thing going on, and I feel left out, but he seems to be tiring of it and I'm being quiet for the moment.
As best I can tell, he's been dressing and flirting in friendly bars since he was in his late 20s (he's 53, I'm 49), but has only carried it into actual contact in the last couple of years after a nasty divorce in which she accused him of doing many things he wasn't. Like many of us, if we're going to get busted for doing something, you might as well do it.... I'm the same way, so I certainly understand that.
I don't have a problem with him being bi. I have a problem with him not being available for me when I want him. I have a problem with the hot sexy guy that seduced me within an inch of my soul just disappearing. As soon as I moved in, he was gone. It's not the gradual cooling of a hot affair as you become accustomed to one another - he was *gone*. Period. I don't know if this has to do with the CDing, or if he's really afraid (after said 2 divorces) to give his heart, soul and body - if I've got the heart and soul, but the body is being withheld. If I ask about it (geez, how gently can you say "Why don't we have hot sex?"), he says something about "because he's being a wuss" and I can almost guarantee that he'll be wanting to dress and withdraw and feel bad about himself the next day. Obviously, this is not a question I ask often.
As for his dressing, he apparently had tried dressing fully around previous wives/gf/etc. and says it doesn't work so well. He'll wear a little sundress around me, but he also says that being fully decked out in front of me "mortifies" him. The one time I walked in unexpectedly and found him in lipstick, it startled me. I left him with a mustache and boy clothes - came home to find him wearing lipstick, nail polish and a pretty little bra, and although I managed to not do anything utterly stupid, I must have looked stupefied. Sorry, but the first time is a big old clanging surprise, even if you know about it.
At any rate, you asked what makes me crazy. Oh boy. Bunches of stuff. It makes me crazy when he wants to wear the things that I had to grow up to be able to wear - nail polish, stockings, makeup, bra. It makes me crazy that my feminine side is somehow threatened by him being in my territory - I can't believe that I, a feminine feminist, am jealous of that. Hell, that is so far removed from anything that I believed about myself that it took me months to realize what that feeling actually was - just plain nasty jealousy.
It makes me crazy that his femme side is this uber slut bitch - she's everything that we all hate about women. Nasty, backbiting, into nothing but clothes, silly -- He's got a better grip on her after one particularly ugly evening, but I'm really aware that she *also* wants to be the only girl in his life. It's so differentiated as to almost feel like its somewhere on the scale of multiple personalities - although I'm aware that I also have one of those bitches in me. It's like her whole point in life is to take care of him - solely and completely, selfishly, and with absolute no regard for anyone but her/him. *He's* wonderful, as a man. No, she'll never hit me, and I also have one of those uber bitches in me, who is perfectly capable of staring his down, but it isn't fun and I don't particularly care to play with her. Damn sure don't want her for my friend.
I hate that our sex life is, at best, tepid. No, he doesn't come to bed as her - but it's like all the fire in the relationship is now saved for when he can cyber with the boys. I just don't get this part of it. No matter how hard I try. This man would stand next to me in a meeting and have to close his jacket because just being close to me would give him - uh - an obvious reaction. Then, I'm here, and available, and despite my obvious skills
The other things that drive me crazy - It's really hard to be a bottom when your stud muffin is wearing panties with puppy dog pawprints and a pink eyelet bra!
It's really hard to listen to "Why can't I go out dressed like this?" when if *I* went out dressed like that, I too would be arrested or accosted or attacked. And they wouldn't call it a hate crime for me - nope, they would say I was asking for it.
It makes me crazy wondering when *she* will surface again and take him away, even for a few hours of playtime on the internet. I find myself looking for signs that she's coming back. The hair on his legs is so fine and blond that he looks shaved all the time anyway, and I find myself touching him to see if he *has* shaved, or if I'm going to get to have the night with my *guy*. It makes me crazy looking at old pictures of him, from before us, en stud, and wondering if his toenails were painted in those Tony Lamas.
It makes me crazy that this uber bitch is whom he chooses to personify as his feminine side. I know his male side doesn't not disrepect women - why does his female side? It makes me crazy that I can't ask him these questions because he is (understandably) crazy sensitive about it.
It makes me crazy that he doesn't feel good about himself after he's spent a while dressing, and that he doesn't feel good about himself if he doesn't dress.
It makes me crazy to know that when he lived alone, he dressed a lot, and that (working from home), he dressed in whatever he wanted to - boy clothes, girl clothes, stark naked, jammies...and that he doesn't dress in girl clothes now at work because I'm there - it makes me feel in the way in our office and in our home. *He* never says I'm in the way - *I* feel in the way.
It makes me crazy that as her, he likes all the silly girly manure that I don't like in my women friends - shopping, shopping, shopping, shopping, pink, frills, goopie girly crap that I outgrew at 6. It makes me crazy that when I see that obnoxious new Gap ad with Sarah Jessica Parker singing "I love being a girl" that I find myself looking at him to see if he's quietly singing along.
It makes me crazy that any of this makes me crazy! I don't want *him* to change. Where could I possibly get off wanting *him* to change. I don't want to limit what he can wear, or where - what on God's green earth would give me that right? I want *my* reactions to change, and am absolutely appalled to find these thoughts ranging around in my head.
And it drives me crazy that he doesn't want me to talk to my bi best friend in Texas - the one person on the face of the earth who absolutely *wouldn't* judge him, and who knows me well enough to get to the point immediately, and whom I know well enough to find some reassurance in what she says, because he doesn't want to be outed.
And it drives me crazy that he wears a friggin' size 5, A FIVE! I'm grateful that he doesn't wear breast forms - and somewhat amazed at what a good underwire bra can do in a size AA! And it makes me crazy that from the neck down, he looks *really* really cute in these things and that I can't wear mini skirts and little tank summer dresses that swirl around my thighs anymore...
And I want my guy back. I want to be thrown to the bed and taken in a burst of machismo.
And it really really really drives me nuts that I can't say these things to him without risking hurting his feelings...or making him feel rejected...or embarrasing him...or bringing up a hideous amount of previous rejection and name calling and other true abuses suffered at the hands of a really nasty exwife who actually told his family (and possibly some colleagues) about his dressing.......... And it also makes me crazy that its illegal to strangle her with my bare hands for it!
And I don't want to think about this anymore.
-g, who's having a bad day of it today. I miss him (he's been gone a week and has 4 more days to go, so I'm dumping a bunch of this emotional stuff while he's gone.)