Auuuggghh… what was I thinking???

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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?”

“Today actually”

“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.

-ValS

Deck the halls

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Just a quick post to say Merry Christmas to everyone out there in the blogosphere! I hope that each and everyone one of you find peace and good fortune in your lives and with your loved ones.

We all know there is a lot of @%!& out there in the world, but each of us has the power to make the world a better place, if we each would only do out part. You may feel that you are just one person and can’t make a difference in the world, but just remember that no single raindrop ever feels responsible for the flood… you get the idea. Never underestimate your power to have a positive effect on anything, and trust me… it’s infectious!!

So with that, I leave you with some fabulous Christmas images, Valerie South style!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

-ValS

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The nagging void of why, or just simply the end of the line

A recent and seriously unfortunate event brought about a likewise serious conversation amongst my family and friends. Someone in my male world took their own life, although we collectively don’t know why. Regardless of the reason, it’s tragic to think any of us could reach a point in our life where we think suicide is a viable alternative. Truly a shame.

The subsequent discussions explored the dark corners of “did anyone know there was a problem?”, “could we have done anything to prevent this?”, “who found him/her”and the inevitable cliche “did they leave a note?”. The note topic was speculated on more than any other.

I suppose it’s a very human need to try and understand why. Maybe there was a note and it explained it all. Maybe there was no note and everyone is lost. Maybe there was a note but the immediate family did not want to divulge the contents. I really don’t care so much about the “why”, just that we lost someone and I wish we could have prevented it.

In one such conversation, someone commented that understanding why helps people to find closure. Open questions just make it hard to grieve completely and move on with life. It’s sort of a nagging void that keeps pulling one back to the pain of loss and not understanding. I can certainly appreciate this thought. But it is not suicide or even loss/death that I wanted to explore in this post, it is that “nagging void” of “why” and it’s effect on peoples ability to find that closure and move on.

Later, I was able to talk with my CD friend Samantha K a little about the tragedy, and we discussed people’s need to understand and how it could and likely will affect our closeted worlds one day (hopefully waaaayyy down the road).

What would happen if the unfortunate (yet inevitable) event of death came to us, and what would become of our femme worlds? Not pleasant to think about, but this recent event has made me seriously think about the issues of secrecy, privacy, and closure.

The feared situation is that I would to meet my untimely demise, and subsequently Valerie’s existence is discovered by some loved ones. Would the shock of discovering I am not totally the person they might have thought I was,or the thought that I wasn’t completely honest with them, cause them to struggle to find closure? Would it cause them to assume some completely inaccurate things about me and how they might remember me?

This whole scenario of thought assumes that my wife is somehow not available to protect my CD existence and get rid of all evidence. That is the cleanest way out for a closeted CD. She can quietly make it all disappear and then image of dad, son, brother, and male friend is intact. It would mean that many of those closest to me would never truly know me, but that is what I have spent a lifetime trying to accomplish.

It’s the alternative scenario that concerns me. For whatever reason, my wife is unable to handle the disposal of Valerie’s paraphernalia and it just waits to be discovered. Valerie’s things exist in different parts of the real world. Some things are hidden in plain sight, and others are locked away in carefully concealed locations. Eventually, someone (my children??) would have the task of going through my things and finding new homes for them, or disposing of them outright.

It’s not as if they would think they have found some things belonging to my wife. Shoes and dresses clearly not in her size, various wigs that she would have never had been seen in, and various items she would have never needed (like breast forms). It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who the items belonged to. But then what?

Then they would likely start speculating about why I had it, what I did, and what kind of person “I really was”. Exactly what they would begin to assume about me would likely be incorrect. Then they would also likely end up at that a fore mentioned eternal question of why?

So Samantha and I wondered if it would be better to have a note explaining the key idea of the who and why (best they could briefly be explained), and leave it in the same location as most of our things. This way there would at least be a final chance to try and explain to our loved ones who we really were and why we had these things. They still may not accept it, but at least that “nagging void of why” would be filled.

But even though the void would be filled, it still feels as though I would be (posthumously) making excuses for myself. Maybe the note should just say:

“If you are reading this, I am obviously gone. The things you are finding are mine and yes I was a cross-dresser. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t over think it, but now you know.”

Short and sweet, straight to the point. Would this be beneficial? Would this be unbelievably tacky? Would this help or harm the healing process? We discussed the point for a couple of hours, and we each changed our minds multiple times.

The only thing we really agreed upon is that it would be so much easier if someone just came in and made it all go away before it could be found. If it couldn’t be my wife eliminating the issue for me, maybe I should have some sort of estate plan that would ensure certain items are removed before anyone else got their hands on them. Seems like over-kill to me (pun unintended). Not to mention I would have to out myself to whoever this person would be.

Later in the discussion I said to Samantha that if I died, I wouldn’t be caring about anything Earthly anyway, so why would I care about this? But in the end I kept coming back to the thought of my loved ones wondering and not finding the closure they may need. Samantha assured me that the pain of the questions surrounding a suicide are far greater than the questions left by finding some large size heels and a few wigs. Obviously she is right.

Maybe I am over-thinking the issue and should once again just say “Que sera, sera”. In the end they will probably just think “well looks like he had a thing for dressing like a woman” and then move on. In the end I really don’t know what I should do, if anything. It’s not really a pleasant thing to think about, and I think I am done thinking about it for now. At least I am done rambling on about it here…

-ValS

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No tea party and fourteen other thoughts

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It had only been about 10 months since I was able to be completely Valerie last, but it felt like a lifetime. I was finally able to put that streak to rest this last Thursday and Friday and become completely Val, and it was so much needed for my sanity. My body and soul back in sync as much as is possible, in a way not many people will ever understand.

It had not been easy to pull off. Getting time off work, time without my lovely family encroaching in the increasingly rare free time, seemed to be repeatedly out of reach. But once I was able to become fully Valerie, my world centered itself and an extreme sense of peace returned to me. It is completely therapeutic for me. I think all men should give it a try at least once in their life, although I realize only a special few us will love it like I do.

Body hair gone, nails painted, make-up done, body reshaped (as much as humanly possible), and the poof of a petticoat in full bloom. Life is good, and the smile on my face is back! I can only describe it as being “born again” (excuse the blasphemy). The closet is small and confining and getting to be Valerie for a little while IS THAT LIBERATING!

But in between all the “I feel so good” moments (of which there were many), there were several moments of reality that are worth mentioning. None of these things are worth a complete post to explore, but are more like little observations while venturing into the femme’ plane of existence that co-exists along side my reality. Here are Val’s 15 little things:

  1. In the weeks and days leading up to my days of dressing up, I get genuinely excited. I don’t mean just looking forward to it, I mean kid at Christmas sort of excitement. It starts to consume me. I get giddy. It is sort of bizarre. I don’t think I really get this excited about anything in life like I do when there is a visit from Valerie on the horizon. How funny!

  2. On the day of Valerie’s visit, excitement almost becomes irritation. It seems like things begin to drag on and I just can’t finally get to femme up. This time it was my daughter dragging her feet and announcing she was going to be leaving the house later than usual. I am not proud of it, but I really felt like she needed to get her act together and get the heck out! LOL! I wasn’t that bad really, but I was pushing to get her moving so that I could begin to transform. This is just my typical reaction as the excitement begins to explode.

  3. As I get older, my eyesight is getting worse. This year it seems to have deteriorated to a noticeable new low. Getting done up with worsening eyes was tough this time around, from shaving legs in the shower to doing eye make-up. This is the first time I have ever thought about possibly getting contacts. I’ve got reading glasses, but I think I may be getting beyond that now. Bummer…

  4. Remember those false eye lashes I decided to try out this year? Probably not. But I will be forgetting them going forward. I did give it a shot this time around, but they are just not for me. Between the difficulty of gluing on the lashes and my worsening eyesight (see comment #3) this did not go so well. Way too much work for me to realistically add this to my Val repertoire, not too mention the look is just far too “drag queen” once those babies are on. They were fun to play with, but the experiment is over.

  5. My latest wig is great. It is a much better quality than any I have owned before it it shows. When it comes to wigs, I do think you do get what you pay for. I still think I look like my mom and that gives me some other issues to deal with, but the overall look is great and I am pleased. I guess I am my mother’s daughter.

  6. I bought some eye make-up to try to get the professional “smokey eyed” look. Unlike the false eyelashes, this experiment went well. The look came out well and it definitely will become my regular look for the foreseeable future.

  7. My iPhone is a pain the arse to use when I’m equipped with long red nails. I love the look, but typing a text was a challenge for sure. It gives me an appreciation to the ladies out there that have mastered the talent of living with claws. Yes, I’m jealous.

  8. I have lost quite a bit of weight over the last year, and the effect on my waistline was pleasing. I had much more of the wasp waist effect than I anticipated and spent too much time admiring it. Now I want even more, and I’m not sure that is a good thing. Then again, yes it is.

  9. The bad part of losing the weight is that my wardrobe is affected. My favorite black 1950’s vintage dress no longer fits well, and that makes me a bit sad. Vintage outfits of this sort are not easy to come by, especially in my size (even though it is smaller now) and the clothes are not cheap. This is the unfortunate consequence of getting healthier. If I could just go out to a vintage shop and buy some more outfits then I would, but it’s just not that easy when existing in the closet. This will only get worse as I have more success in losing weight.

  10. We have a newer dog/puppy that is not used to seeing Valerie, and it “freaked” her out for sure! This was somewhat amusing and once I spoke you could see the dots begin to get connected in her eyes. She was still a little uneasy around Valerie, and seemed to keep an eye on me quite a bit. Our older dog gave me a quick look and just turned away as if to say “oh, we’re back to this again are we?”. The animal reactions are entertaining.

  11. As several of us have mentioned on various occasions, I spent a ridiculous amount of time looking at myself in mirrors. Partly because I was pleased with the look I achieved, and partly because to a degree I feel like it is really me looking back. I could chase this much, much deeper, but for this post let’s just say I repeatedly made use of every mirror I could find (and smiled a lot).

  12. I had hoped to spend some time talking with my wife while dressed up, but her work situation required her to go into the office on short notice. I just wanted to sit and have a cup of coffee, tea, or wine with her and have a bit of girl talk, but it was not to be. Hopefully it wasn’t just an excuse on her part. I don’t think it was, but it may have been. It is just nice to have a little bit of human contact when dressed, when your cross-dressing world is confined to the closet. Hopefully we will be able to do this soon. It would mean the world to me.

  13. My male self doesn’t smoke, but Valerie does once in awhile. I went outside to a secluded spot at the rear of my house and had a smoke. Didn’t really enjoy the cigarette, but did enjoy putting on my coat, grabbing my purse, and going outside for a moment. One of the most enjoyable parts of the smoke break was the fact that there was quite a bit of construction work going on at the house next to me. They couldn’t see me, but it did give me a strange feeling to think there were manly men doing manly construction things right next door to me while I was in a beautiful dressy outfit, sashaying about. Clearly felt like a sissy.

  14. The going outside and the issue of losing weight gave me a renewed interest in trying to find a myself a modern outfit and possibly venturing out a bit. This is something I would like to bring up with my wife if we do ever get to have the little girl talk session/tea party. Several recent posts and conversations have put my mind into this train of thought again. Kind of scary.

  15. Last but not least, B-A-L-A-N-C-E! Seems almost cliché to say it so often, but I always come out of a dressing opportunity feeling so whole and balanced. If I could bottle this feeling and save it for later, I definitely would. When life and work stress hit you square in the forehead, and bottle of Valerie’s finest would go a long way to keeping me sane.

So there you have it, 15 points of rambling thoughts. It has already been a few days since getting to dress and enjoy being Valerie completely, and it leaves me wanting more. I am already trying to get another opportunity arranged as soon as possible, before the winter gets away from me.

Being hairless and under-dressing is nice, but it is no substitute to the full blown dressing experience, and I need more.

Until next time…

-ValS