This Is Me Pt 3 (Final Part) free porn video

INTRODUCTION Thank you for reading about my journey. Some of you may be relieved to know that this final part will bring you to where I am in life now. No more ramblings from Kirsten after this for a while. PERSONAL SHOPPERS We were yet to move. Viewings on our home were few and we found we were dropping the price just to entice people in. Our plan to sell our home would now not clear our debt, but simply enable us to stay afloat. At the time, I was still stuck in my previous job. The same horrible environment continuing to get on top of me. I'm sure people go through worse, but in the middle of it, looking out, I didn't understand how badly I was being affected. I would go home in bad moods, spend my long drive trying to detox from a toxic workplace. I would snap at my family, who I dearly loved and wanted to embrace. Finally, cracks appeared and instead of foolishly trying to protect my wife from what was happening as I had been, I finally opened up about how I was feeling. Of course, she was there for me, and promised that as soon as we sold the house she would support my decision to leave my job. By then I had a manager who I was friends with, but she was going through a terrible time as her family broke up. I found I was supporting her, letting her disappear from shifts and covering for her. It just seemed like I was absorbing everything bad, and had no release for it. The young man in Ann Summers was right. If the compulsion to go outside is in you, it will be hard to stop. I don't know why, but a few months after that first outing, I found I had a desire to go outside again. And it was too strong to fight. I would day-dream about being accepted while I was out, what I might wear. The idea started to become comforting. A natural step forward from my dressing in private. I talked to my wife and she encouraged me so long as I was safe. This time I would do it as right as possible. My first step was to find an appropriate outfit. I reached out to several department stores (John Lewis, Debenhams, etc) about their personal shopper experiences. Some were hesitant - it just depended on who you spoke to. Most were willing to assist, and once they met me and we got to know each other in our alloted time they realised it was a genuine, serious enquiry: could you help me find a suitable outfit for the next time I went out? One woman told me a horrendous story about a man masturbating into the clothes, and it gratified me that when we were finished she said I had made it so pleasant for her she would now happily help other men again. During these visits I learned so much about what clothes and accessories suited my shape and size. What colors best suited me. And also what patterns. For the first time I started to shift away from wearing only neutral colors. I would strongly recommend using a service like this. I have had only good experiences with no pressure to buy. The women have been kind and helpful. One young lady in Next even prepared a folder of clothes illustrations she thought I might like before my visit, as well as having some choices ready before we walked the sales floor. I have visited both in male clothes, and dressed, and those early visits helped to boost my confidence. Just approach them in a polite, friendly manner and you'll receive more help than you could wish for. MAKE-UP I decided to learn more about make-up through personal experience. One day, driving home from work I visited a retail park near Chester, and entered the Boots store. I decided if the women on the make-up counters seemed friendly I would ask for advice. It was early evening and there was only one woman working that could see. She was young, and a part of me didn't want to put this on her in case it made her uncomfortable. I realised that was just an excuse and decided to come clean about who I was and what I was doing. She was so pleasant. She asked if I was comfortable sitting in her chair or did I just want to chat. We started by chatting and after about ten minutes I plucked up the nerve to sit down and consider some of the things we had discussed. At this point her colleague came over and they both calmed my nerves, explaining they didn't judge, loved make-up and just wanted to help. The first woman explained she would work on the right side of my face, and then I would do the same on my left. We worked from foundation through to finishing lipstick and all inbetween. We used products I knew and had tried by myself and those I had yet to discover: bronzer, lip- liner. She created and taught me a really nice day look I have since varied on many occasions. She put me at ease, welcomed me back anytime. I returned several times with general questions, and one time we arranged a different make-over. This was for something darker and sexier for the night-time. I had no plans, but I just wanted to know how to achieve different looks. On that occasion I was much more comfortable sitting in her chair. Due to her conversations, I found it easier to enter other stores on that retail park. I've had some amazing chats with a woman I saw a few times at Accessorize about fulfilling dreams and believing in oneself. In the Next store, even though I had not scheduled anything, I saw a skirt I really liked and was happy to approach a woman about trying it on, and getting her general advice to see if it fitted well and how it looked. More encounters like these continue to breed confidence and I find it easy now to talk openly about cross-dressing if I need to. On one of my personal shop visits, when I was dressed, the ladies helping me complimented my make-up and asked how I was doing with it. I told them I was competent, rather than confident, and they said they would see if anybody was free on the MAC counter. This led to another great experience with their friendly Assistant Manager, who has since invited me to free classes with her. We tried to arrange it once, but it didn't work out. I'm sure we'll try again. She taught me simple tricks I hadn't even considered: blending eye make-up and using colors that matched my clothes. NAILS & HAIR I decided if I was going to go out again I would have my hair done and my nails. It took several weeks to arrange this. Some women laughed when I made a polite enquiry. Two hung up on me as I explained what I needed help with. I sent several emails out and from most I heard nothing or I got a polite no. It was a reminder that even though I felt I was moving forward, some people are close-minded about anything that they perceive as being different to their normal. But then I received an email from a woman who owned a beauty salon. She said she would love to help, even though it would be a first for her. She was friendly and pleasant in her messages and it turned out before she had moved into her own premises she had worked out of a hair salon. She set me up with the owner to get my hair fixed nice. So on the day I next ventured out I felt great about my clothes, I visited a salon for my nails and then another for my hair, finding everybody I met pleasant and friendly and kind-hearted, wishing me well. The lady who did my nails spend a good hour getting to know me. We talked about our families and became friendlier than I expected. I don't know what I had expected, but it was a positive experience I have repeated with her several times. She has a great sense of humor. I know I'm no beauty when I dress, but I once asked her if I passed. She said I looked great.....from a distance. And it proved to be........ I then drove into Manchester, facing those same initial fears to get out of the car. But once walking around the city centre and Arndale shopping mall, I started to relax, became more confident. I was alone again, but had a lot of pleasant conversations with women in stores. Some of them mentioned how brave I was, and I didn't understand it. They explained that it took courage to put yourself out there when you could be ridiculed. I had certainly experienced that side of it. Later on that day, which I didn't rush like the first time, a woman approached me on the concourse. We made eye contact early on, but when we got close she averted her eyes and looked like I had strangled her cat. I felt a fleeting a moment of shame, one of the few of that day, but her expression looked so ridiculous, her reaction proportionately wrong for what she had seen, I knew this was her problem not mine. I remembered what my nail beautician had said and smiled. I went out to Manchester a few more times. Each time alone. Each time getting my nails and hair done by two women who now had a great understanding of me. While not friends, we all certainly care for each other. They helped builld my confidence. And each experience, though hard at first, those initial steps that take great nerve, has been more positive than the last. However, I am no expert. I'm scared to stop to eat for fear of being stared at and not being able to escape, which is something I hope to overcome one day. I know I must be read most of the time. Certainly up close and if I have to speak. But being out dressed, expressing who I am........I'm not flamboyant or extrovert. I'm amicable. I respect others. And when I am outside I feel a little taste of freedom. DOUBLE BILL I'm a big movie fan. As I said earlier my dream is to work in the film industry, and I've had a couple of close calls. Maybe foolishly, I'm 47, and still chasing a childhood dream that began when I was 6 years old when I saw Jaws at the cinema. After a couple of shopping trips, I decided the next time I went out I would watch a double-bill at a nearby movie theatre. I frequented two and since that time I go one when in male clothes, and the other when I wear anything feminine......be it just a little make-up, or fully dressed which I have done twice now. Gradually those worlds are merging. As I become more comfortable with who I am I have found myself visiting the 'male dressed' cinema with lingerie under my clothes, or using a purse instead of a wallet, or wearing heels instead of sneakers. On my first dressed trip to watch movies I had two scary moments. Other- wise, the day went really well. I visited in the day-time, knowing it would be quiet. There were a few people at the popcorn counter buying tickets. I waited my turn in the queue when the man in front of me turned around. "What are you watching, love?" I was shocked. This was a grungy man, and here I was trying to look my finest. We were so close he obviously knew I was a man. "Double bill," I said, hoping that would put him off. "What are you watching first?" I lied and then watched as he purchased a ticket for the film I had said. He turned to me: "I'll see you inside, love." Highly unlikely, I thought, and I gave him time to get out of earshot before I purchased my tickets for two different films than the one I had mentioned. My fingers were trembling as I paid. The young woman checking the tickets at the entrance to the auditoriums smiled pleasantly. She was a college kid by the look of it. She directed me where to go and then said: "You're the second cross-dresser I know." "Really?" I asked. "Who is the first?" "Eddie Izzard," she told me. "You know Eddie Izzard?" I asked. "No, but I've seen him on TV." We chatted briefly and then I went to watch my first film (Criminal). It was an okay thriller. I enjoyed it more than some, perhaps, because I'm a big Kevin Costner fan. There were a few people watching and nobody paid me any attention. When I left I had about ten minutes before the next film and I needed a toilet break. Scare number two. Which facilities was I going to use? If I went in the men's I would look ridiculous; if I went in the ladies it might offend somebody. In the end I approached an usher and apologised if I was putting him on the spot, but which restroom would he prefer I use. He asked me to wait, and when he returned he said he had spoken to the manager. I could use whichever I felt more comfortable in. I chose the ladies. It was a different world. Large counters, walled mirrors. I used a cubicle and then washed up. I spent a few minutes checking my make-up. I wondered what would be said if a woman came in, but nobody did. Then I went to watch my second film (Eddie the Eagle) which I enjoyed immensely. A few people were inside, mostly women, and I'm sure they made me. But I was having a nice afternoon and didn't care. By the time the films were finished it was early evening. I sat in my chair watching the credits, building my nerve to get up and leave. The foyer was busier now, as I expected, and I walked through confidently, thinking about my successful shopping visits, even though I was sure I got a few looks. The second time I went to the cinema I challenged my fear of sitting or standing still for some time. I had to prove that I didn't have to restrict my activities just because I was dressed. I went into the Pizza Hut and ordered a take-away. I sat there for about twenty minutes aware that everybody who came by took a good look. Some uttered comments. I wasn't that bothered. It was probably the most confident I've been outside, and all I was doing was sitting and waiting. PERIODS This is so very hard to admit and write about. Over the years I've occasionally, out of curiosity, worn a pantie-liner. I've never done anything to my body to simulate having a period. But I do now follow a period tracker. I'm on a six day cycle that is marked in my work diary, and while I know this is nothing like a woman would experience, I do feel the need to keep to this pattern. My wife acknowledges it, and like me, says she doesn't quite get it. But she knows I'm becoming happier now, and more like my old self, the man she fell in love with. Sounds strange, writing that while I'm talking about periods. But after losing my way and putting us through a tough time, we're back on the right path.. I have been using the tracker now for about two years. And, as I was originally conflicted about my cross-dressing, I now struggle with the thought that for several days I will wear a pantie-liner in my underwear. I've even considered using a tampon, but not yet. Maybe never. I'm ashamed of this behaviour and don't understand it. But as each supposed period begins, I struggle internally, but then find myself putting a pantie-liner inside of my panties. And after the first, it becomes easier then to accept and complete the week. It is something I fight against, but feel I must do. I don't understand it. MISTRESS My desire to be humiliated was growing as, since the birth of my son, any games my wife and I enjoyed playing privately had stopped. And when I returned to dressing, my wife was so supporting and encouraging of that, that I didn't want to press for more. It was then that I reached out to a mistress. I'd never done it before or since. Morally and ethically it was hard to live with afterwards. I also thought this might help me understand better who I was. It was expensive, and embarrassing --- as I had hoped, I suppose --- therapy. When she sensed I was struggling with my decision to see her, as many people do, I guess, she suggested I consider it a game. One my wife would not play, but she was happy to enjoy with me. That seemed to make it easier. We set a date for a hotel in Manchester. I had a luggage bag with a variety of clothes in it. The room wasn't ready and we chatted at the hotel bar for about an hour. It was a good ice-breaker and gave us a chance to get to know each other. In the room she asked how I prefer she dressed. I requested something every-day, so except for touching her make-up up she remained as she was. She then told me to strip. I'm the kind of guy, okay girl, that has always preferred a cubicle to a stall. After sports in school I always used to shower last, after everybody had gone home. I used to look okay, pretty decent, but I always had inhibitions about my body, and how I would appear downstairs. Erect, I'm a good size, but otherwise my penis is quite small. God, why am I sharing these things? Anyway, I removed my shoes, socks, shirt and then jeans. Figured I would get away with that. She commented on my little titties, and then told me to take off my panties. Jesus, that was hard. I was so afraid and must have stood there for at least a minute or two. Finally, I slid them off, showing her my butt. She told me I had to turn around. That took a fair few seconds. I thought I would get hard, but didn't. Just a slight arousal for now. A shift. She was beautiful and blonde, and she joked about my little clittie and then talked about every-day things while I stood naked before her, ashamed of myself. I'm sure some people would handle this okay. For me, it was damn near impossible. But I stood there, in all my small glory, wishing I had something on, exchanging small talk until she finally told me to get myself dressed. She chose which bra and pantie set to put on, stockings, a cobalt blue dress that I thought I looked quite sexy in. She helped with my make-up, giving me some pointers, and then told me to wait for her in the bedroom of the suite. She had a code. If you were comfortable and enjoying yourself you were in Las Vegas. If you didn't like what was happening you were in Texas. Physically I was hitting the jackpot in a Vegas casino, but emotionally I was hurting myself. I'd never been lost so much. I was deep into Texas. She finally came in. I received a spanking for being a bad girl. She threatened to take me for a drink in the bar, see if any of the staff recognised me now I was changed. Or maybe we should go shopping, she suggested. I would have done either. I was at her mercy. Instead, she said I was saved by our time running out. Next time, she promised, we would leave the hotel room. Then she placed a vibrator over my little clittie and went to work for a few minutes, instructing me to play with my breasts and tell her what a bad girl I was. I held out for a minute or two, but eventually cum sprayed out, soaking my clothes. All the time she was telling me to open my eyes and look in the mirror over the bed, but I couldn't. I didn't want to see what I had done with a stranger. When I asked her why she had been so insistent, she told me it was because I looked just like a woman. She told me to clean myself up and then we chatted for ten minutes or so. I guess it was kind of a detox back into the real world. She asked if I wanted to be sent home dressed, but I was spiralling into deep shame and guilt at being with her, so I declined. She told me to at least wear panties and a bra, which I did. I was on auto-pilot. She had seen a tampon and pantie-liner in my handbag, and she asked if I wanted to wear a tampon. I told her it wasn't my time. I wished I had in a way. It was probably the only circumstances in which I would do that. We talked about cross-dressing and gender issues. She asked if I enjoyed myself. I said yes, and that I would like to see her again. I never did. The truth is, if I did I think emotionally and ethically it would destroy me. And I would confess what I had done. It has been so hard to keep it a secret. I'm just not wired to hurt people, and yet, this is something that could cause massive pain. I had to stay away and hate myself for what I did. I left and on the drive home I felt deeply, deeply guilty. I had been with another woman. For a specific reason, but all the same..........Despite the conversation we had around gender, and the fact that it had been a game without actual penetration, I had behaved in a sexual manner with another woman. I would never tell my wife, but even today it breaks my heart that I would betray her trust like that. After she has given me so much. THE MOVE By the time we had a buyer for our home, the financial hole we were in had grown considerably, and we were vulnerable to accepting whatever offer came our way. We covered about half our debts, so we are still struggling now, but having down-sized the situation is manageable and we can see, just about, the light at the end of the tunnel. It's about 4 years off. It broke my heart when my son, who is taken to France to see his French Grandma once a year, returned and asked why I never went on holiday with him. My wife and son will always be first, but once that debt is clear we'll have the holiday of a lifetime. The move was also tough on him. As I said it was our dream home, and listening to him sob at night about how he missed it destroyed whatever belief I had left in myself. How could I have caused this? How could I have been so stupid with our finances? Of course, my wife stood strong, assured me we were a team, that she had been as blind as me to what we were doing. All we could do was move forward. My Mom passed away just before the move. I won't go into details, but it was shrouded by family dysfunction (my son - four at the time - was called a 'little cunt' by my older brother, who I was once so close to, so that should give you an idea of the turmoil), and I was alone with her in the hospital the night she died. In her final moments I held her hand and spoke to her briefly, thanking her, and telling her she had given my son the best start he could have in life as she had been his baby-sitter while my wife and I worked. Moments later, she was gone. The dysfunction I mentioned continued afterwards, and has barely faded now. My son is raised differently, with hugs and kisses every day from my wife and I. At that time I finally moved jobs knowing our bills would be less. Where I am now, the basic wage is less, but my comissions can kick it up. I'm usually earning about the same, sometimes more, than I was as a manager in a highly pressurised retail environment. I design summerhouses and log cabins at a garden centre. I have a good spot, a pleasant environment. And between customers, so long as I stay on top of my site, my time is my own. I'm lucky in work at the moment. I was finding I was more and more comfortable when dressed, and more and more at ease when going out. I would walk to the car in the drive, rather than sneak to it. I found it easier to get out at my destination.......I wouldn't be now. It's been a while and I would need to rebuild my confidence. But just before we moved I spoke to my wife about telling the new neighbours about what I did and who I was. She agreed that it would be best to be open for myself. When we moved that was the plan.......Until we saw that our immediate neighbors, who we share a front path with, have five children, with a sixth on the way. Considering how protective I am of my son regarding dressing, and the fact that he would be friends with these children, I found it impossible to tell our neighbours. The new house has a shared path, no drive. The car is about thirty feet from the garden. And at any moment, one of those children might see me. It would impact their lives, as well as ours. Almost over-night I went from happily going out dressed to being confined again. Which is the situation now. I have been out dressed once since the move, about eight months now, and plan to again later this year. But to do so has become near impossible. I do dress more at home, and have found that, with my wife's blessing, I will spend most of my time in the house alone dressed. Even when she is present, she is happy to see me dressed however I choose. We still keep it from our son. LIL For decades I've enjoyed browsing the stories at Fictionmania, but late last year I discovered the more interactive Locked In Lace. I had stumbled upon it while looking for a site that might offer support. I found that, and a whole lot more. It appealed to me and I joined. I immediately made a couple of friends, one of whom helped me a great deal. As I read around the site and heard stories about people's personal experiences, some of them heart-breaking, I was suddenly flooded with childhood memories I had long forgotten, maybe even repressed. I started to question who I was, my gender, and frankly, one day in work I started to really collapse on myself. Was I a cross-dresser? A sissy? A woman? I was lucky that one particular friend, Misty, was there for me throughout all this. She held my hand, kept sending me emails. One day I was sobbing and she was in constant communication with me as I started to realise I may be transsexual. Misty was a lifeline. She was in constant, live Private Message mode. It was like she was there in the room with me. She assured me that my world wasn't ending. That there were many ways forward. That being transsexual doesn't necessarily mean transitioning to womanhood. That many transsexuals and people who suffer from gender dysphoria live happy lives even though they might not change sex. Later, I also received similar support via a few emails from Lady Vinyl here at Fictionmania, and I, finally, started to see there was a way forward. There is a lot of fun to be had on Locked In Lace, especially if you can manage your time and self-being well. But there is also a massive support network, and while joining may have unlocked some of my past, it was here that I was also comforted. WHO AM I? So, I titled this piece This Is Me, and I suppose we are just about there. I know people go through struggles in their lives, and I know there are a lot worse off than me in life, but I feel I've been through a lot and I'm ready to stop fighting with myself about who I am. I've been in the trenches four decades now. I dress more comfortably and more confidently than I ever have, and probably more often. Several weeks ago, expecting a parcel when I was dressed, I simply answered the door when the mailman came. He got his chuckles and I asked him to be discreet. When he left I opened the parcel............and it wasn't even mine! But my point is, I didn't even hesitate when I went to the door. When out by myself, I sometimes offer hints of my femininity to the world. I might wear jewellery or heels or carry a purse, or wear a woman's coat. Or more. I'll go out fully dressed again one day in a few months. And then again after that. And again.........But between those times it's become valuable to have 'me' time. Feminine moments on any given day. I know how lucky I am to have a wife who accepts all I have been through, and all I wish to do, with an open heart and kindness far beyond what might be expected. But, I fear the thought of me being a transsexual, would be too much. I will not hurt my family by exposing this secret. I am a loving father and a giving husband. I have made mistakes, but I have mostly done good by them. And I have also come to believe, and finally accept, I was born a woman. But this hasn't ended my world. If anything, now I can deal with who I am. It has enhanced my personality. And certainly my life. I will always give so much to those I love in the quest for happiness for them; but, with acceptance and the loss of conflict within myself, and with my wife and son at my side, I will also have a chance at finding such happiness for myself. I am a father. I am a husband. And, within this body, I am a woman. And, for the first time in years, I am at peace and, almost, happy with who I am. It's going to take a little longer, but I'm getting there. This is me. AFTERWORD It will sound like the Academy Awards, but I just want to thank a few people. Firstly, I have had a couple of counselling sessions and would like to thank the women involved. This was to do with grief, and loss of self-esteem and self hatred. But as I became comfortable, I also touched on issues of cross-dressing and gender dysphoria, and received valuable help. This has been difficult to write, and I want to thank you all for reading, and those who have taken the time to comment on any of my work. Your encouraging words have always helped me. But mostly, I want to mention a few names who may or may not realise they played a valuable part in my journey of acceptance: Caroline, Jules, Lady Vinyl, Jacqueline, my guiding light Misty, and my close friend Debbie, who has taught me to relax and allowed me to have fun. In accepting her unexpected friendship, I have discovered a lot about Kirsten. Thank you. Lastly, those I cherish most in the world, who will likely never read this. My lovely wife and son. I wouldn't be here were it not for them. And together we will stand strong for all our days.