My constant state of paranoia and fear of being discovered usually keep me from making tragic mistakes… Mistakes that could spell the end of my covert existence in this closet that I have inhabited since I first put on a pair of my mothers high heels. I don’t remember everything of my childhood very clearly, but I am sure that as soon as I realized that I liked women’s clothes and items, I also realized I had to hide my proclivity towards such things.
So recently I found myself in an odd situation. I hadn’t thought some things through as well as I normally would have and while peeking out of this closet door, I lost my balance and fell right out a little bit.
Let me back up and give you a little background. I need to set the scene here a bit and will try to do so without too much digression (I have been told it can be done). So as Joe Friday is incorrectly credited with saying, I will try to stick to “just the facts ma’am”.
Several months ago, Jess wrote a piece about how long she could go wearing panties vs. male underwear. Under-dressing is most safe way to cross-dress without outing yourself, so I thought I would do it and keep track of the consecutive days. I ended up going 92 days, until I had to take a trip for work and didn’t want to pack panties in my carry-on in case I was selected for a random inspection. That’s a typical example of the level of paranoia that goes through my mind. Really, what are the odds?? Didn’t matter, the streak ended then and there at 92 days, and oddly enough I felt as though I had failed. I mean, it’s just panties… right?
So fast forward to now… I am doing it again and am somewhere in the 30 day range right now. Again, I know it’s not a monumental achievement, but when your this deep in the closet, even the small victories have value.
Beyond the under-dressing, I have had the opportunity to fully dress several times throughout December and it has been wonderful. So in addition to the daily panties, I am currently totally hairless and my toes are as bright red as ever. Regardless of my exterior facade, I am as Valerie as ever underneath and in a constant state of bliss whenever I think about it (which is almost every moment of every day).
Another piece of background detail… I have a medical condition that I don’t really want to get into here, but it requires me to take some significant medications and to visit the doctor on a reasonably regular basis. Typically I will schedule my appointments around the winter dressing season so I can Valerie up without to much concern about doctor visits. However, last week I had to go in for a visit in order to get a prescription refilled. The doctor wanted to be sure there were no indications of detrimental effects before going ahead with the next prescription, and may adjust the dosage. So a mid winter visit was needed. These visits to this particular doctor are usually uneventful… check weight (I’m going down!), blood pressure, glands, joints, etc., etc.
This time around the doctor said my joints seemed swollen, and really paid close attention to my knuckles and wrists. They are hairless, but I didn’t even think about it and just went along with examination. Then came the request to take off my shoes and socks so that my toes and ankles could be examined closer. Before it even occurred to me, I had them off and there were the bright red toes glaring back at me. Oh $(#@%!! What was I doing?? My mind instantly started racing for excuses for when the inevitable comment or question was aired, but it never came. The doctor didn’t even skip a beat and inspected both ankles and sets of toes without even so much as a smirk.
I will admit that I didn’t hear a thing that was said to me at that point and was a little bit stunned. The doctors lack of reaction shocked me as much as my lapse in protectionist paranoia. After a few minutes I came back to reality, and the conversation continued down a path of dosages and then delivery methods. As soon as I could, I slipped my socks back on and pretended to be as unconcerned as the doctor seemed to be. In retrospect, I’m sure my face was a matching shade of red also.
As if that experience wasn’t bad enough, the doctor then suggested that my continued dosage of medication be changed from oral (pills) to an injection. I said that would be fine, as I self inject other meds and would have a problem doing this. Then another spiral out of control…
“When are you due for your next dosage?”
“I may have a dose here in the office and we can start the injections today if you would like”
This was my chance to stop this, but instead I just blurted out “OK”.
So the doctor then said “I will inject the first dose into your thigh so go ahead and remove your pants and I will be right back with the medication.
At this point I was sort of stunned again. I knew my legs were completely hairless and I was wearing a pair of panties. I could have said no and made some excuse, but I didn’t. I was too far in at this point and just thought I just have to get through this. I was shaking slightly, but went ahead and took off my pants and waited for the doctor to return.
In comes the doctor, and starts to tell me about the medication and the preparations and precautions necessary for taking injections. I just tried to act like nothing was wrong and I think so did the doctor. After the shot was given, I quickly put my pants back on was ready to get out of there. Last comment from the doctor was that she needed to see me again in a month, instead of the typical 3-6 month interval. At this point I just said OK and headed for the front desk. I scheduled my appointment for in a month, and headed out as quickly as possible.
As I was driving away I was both shocked at how much I had inadvertently revealed and at how little the reaction was from my doctor. I acted like nothing was wrong and so did she,but we both know what she just saw. I know there are confidentiality requirements but I still wonder who she may tell.
Now I have to go back in a month and I have a decision to make. Do I stick with the winter dressing routine and go back hairless, even if I do skip the panties and nail polish? Or do I pack it in and begin the return to the summer routine, as in let the body hair come back? That way it would at least possibly look like a one-time thing. On one hand I would hate to give up my ability to be Valerie behind the scenes. I only get a few months a year, and I really do treasure them. But I also would like the ability to sort of minimize the accidental revelation I had just made. Going back in the same condition would sort of confirm the doctor’s suspicions, even though I really don’t know what the heck she thought about the whole situation. That next appointment will be awkward for sure.
I know it probably seems like such a minor thing to most people, but this is the most revealing thing that has happened to me outside of me telling my wife about Valerie. For many years I have said only one other person knows of my other self, but now there is potentially another. Since the doctor doesn’t have the full story, I can really only say that now only 1.5 people know about Valerie.
What this is really all about is that I was careless and it cost me a little bit. I have spent a lifetime trying to conceal Valerie from most of the world, and I accidentally fell out of the closet for the briefest of moments, and I still am not sure how I feel about that. I’ll let you know in a month, after my next appointment. Hopefully the shock will wear off by then.