Ever since I returned home from a recent driving trip, I have been out of sorts. I have fallen into one of those periods of malaise that affects many crossdressers, I’m sure, where I am just not sure whether the whole thing isn’t just a waste of time.
Despite the many strides I have made, there seems to be a lingering doubt as to whether I am simply being self-destructive, or maybe even undertaking some elaborate form of procrastination.
I mean, I put a lot of time and effort into all things Janie.
Then, sometimes I find myself face to face with the mirror, thinking, “You’re just such a weirdo. Wouldn’t your time be better spent on something more constructive? What good can come of this? Stop trying to be something you’re not!”
Who Am I?
The truth is that I don’t know if this is something I am or something I do – and if the latter, whether it is something I ought not to do.
Before Janie, I lived for decades never ever remotely contemplating any attraction to men, but now I think about it every day. Have I perverted my own sexuality, or just started to realize it?
I do know that being this girl I am is risky business. It brings sexual risk, and it brings social risk. It is often energizing, but sometimes – as now – energy-sapping.
And, to some extent, it does distract me from pursuing challenges that maybe would be more rewarding, but seem somehow more daunting to me.
What seemed to set this latest episode off was a recent tryst.
There I was in all my glory, with my girlfriend and this voluptuous vixen, having the threesome I’d dreamed about as a guy for… well, since puberty…
You could scarcely imagine a more bodacious body, or more agreeable company, and everything went wonderfully, but after it was all over, there I was… no happier than I had been before… no exploding stars… no walking on clouds… no sense of accomplishment even.
It’s not every day you check an item off your Bucket-List with a shrug.
Field of Broken Dreams
Maybe it would be different if we did it again, knowing each other a bit better and feeling more comfortable? (I mean, there are so many things to try once you know your partner(s) better.) Or, maybe it would be different if it were another woman instead? Or, maybe if I did it as a guy rather than as Jane? Or maybe if I was just in a different frame of mind? Maybe it would be better, maybe worse. I don’t know.
All of this got me wondering how I might feel if and when I am with a man…
I mean, why go to all that trouble to find the right guy, then take the risk of meeting him and the further risk of sleeping with him, if all I’ll end up with is, well… another one of these episodes…
Chin Up, Wilbur!
A girl’s got to know, though. And there’s only one way to find out for sure, right?
But for now, I am left with lots of questions and few answers. And, it’s damn depressing.
Maybe I should take advantage of this time to do some of those things I have been too busy – or too scared – to do for so long…