Everything I’ve written so far has been easy. This is where they get hard to write, or at least hard to share.
When I started this blog, I intended it to be a journal of my coming to terms with one aspect of myself. But I’m increasingly discovering that I can’t just isolate one aspect of myself. This part of me — the feminine, the transgender, I don’t even know anymore precisely what to call it — has been beneath the surface of so many things for me, and it has been influencing the entire arc of my life up to this point. And in many ways, damaging it.
I’m at a point in all this where I need to begin telling you about my relationship with my wife. But in order to understand that, I first need to talk about sex.
To be blunt: I suck at sex. I wasn’t raised with a real awareness of it, and my parents never really talked to me about it; if they had “the talk” with me, I don’t remember it. I never got into sex in high school and only had a “girlfriend” my senior year (and we never went past first base, and even then it was only bunting). The trend of “no girlfriedns” continued into college; I didn’t actually date anyone until I met my wife (more on that later). I was a virgin when I married.
It wasn’t like my family raised me super-religious or anything. It’s just that sex was not a high priority for me. I wasn’t good with girls and I didn’t feel manly and I had these weird outside-the-norm urges and so I just never cared to chase it.
As I chronicled before, the onset of puberty for me was already beset with some confusing signals, and I never knew how to seek out answers for myself (or that I even needed to seek out answers). Now, looking back, I wonder if that confusion, those mixed messages in my head about gender identity, didn’t somehow stifle something in me. And it’s been stifling it for years. In college, my roommates sought out sex, had sex, bragged about sex; I didn’t. I just wasn’t horny. Honestly, I sometimes wondered if I was asexual; that’s the level of messed in the head I’ve been about sex all these years.
My one sexual release all these years has been the hidden part of myself. Like many CDers in their early stages, the one thing that turned me on and got me going was the thought of women’s clothes and dressing and presenting as a woman. No, that’s not completely honest: while women’s clothes have turned me on, it’s more like the whole concept of *transformation* has turned me on. I discovered the Transformation Story Archive in college; but only the stories about transforming into women were my kind of turn on. [I’m definitely not a furry.] Soon thereafter I found the bountiful riches of Fictionmania, a site that I’ve basically kept bookmarked for fifteen straight [no pun intended] years. It’s a good thing Fictionmania doesn’t charge a subscription fee! I probably owe them something just for the sheer amount of time I’ve spent there.
Of course, I’ve not shared my inner feelings with anyone before this January, and so for all those years my only sexual release was something I did by myself. Literally, the only time I got any real sexual gratification was at my own hand, as it were, while reading stories about men transformed into women or tricked into putting on a skirt, If you’re wondering what this did to my relationship with my wife, well … like I said, this is all stuff that’s getting hard to talk about.
Ugh. This is all probably TMI. Did I overshare? I don’t know. Just talking about sex makes me uncomfortable. But if you’re reading it, that means I got over my discomfort and posted it. Because for all the rest of it to make sense, I think you need to understand this aspect of me.