Me and My Big Mouth

It has been brought to my attention more than once that I have a big mouth. I'm sure that you, my readers, have remarked on my talent for fearlessly offering opinion and advice from behind the safety of the printed page. Unlike talking, where my pontifications can be challenged by a loud "Oh yeah, that's what you say!", if someone out there wants to comment they have to take the time to compose their thoughts, put them on paper, find a stamp and mail the thing. In practice this means I go unchallenged from the Olympian heights of my keyboard, royally assuming my wisdom has been heard and accepted by the masses, who obviously base their life's path on my precepts.

That is until I have to put my advice into practice in my own personal life. There have been two major changes in my life recently. After 24 years my wife and I have called it quits, for reasons that have nothing to do with my crossdressing. I find myself singularly unprepared for the whole dating scene, I mean dating is for teenagers with raging hormones and not for 46 year old bearded crossdressers with raging hormones.

First of all it's hard to find a date, after all most of my friends are already married, and the relationships with those that aren't are already set in a non-romantic mode. Suddenly those ads in the "getting personal" columns that were so funny to read have a new relevance, and feeling like a fool, I sent off a few letters. And no, I didn't mention my penchant for petticoats in the letter. So much for starting out with pure, unadulterated honesty.

Then the agonizing questions started. Do I stop shaving my legs? Are all the crossdressing magazines removed from the toilet tank in case I bring her home? What if I like her, how do I tell her? I know I have told my readers you have to tell the lady before you get serious, but I don't want to! I mean, it's scary! I don't want to be rejected, ridiculed or reviled. Anyway, I was saved from making this choice because the first date was a disaster, she had more makeup on her face than I have cumulatively worn in my entire life (this for a picnic!) and I got maybe 16 words out of her over a 3 hour date. Whew. But the next date is in two weeks. Let me see, should I stop shaving my legs or....

Then there is the question of telling the children. I thought I was safe from this one, after all my kids are grown and they already know. What I had neglected to consider is that grown kids have a tendency to have kids of their own. That's right, my daughter is making me a grandperson, for lack of a better non-gender specific word. I have always threatened to be the kind of grandparent my parents were, spoil the kids rotten while they had them then let mom and dad live with the consequences. There is only one problem with this scenario. My daughter is living with me while she goes to college, and I will have to live with the consequences. In fact she has another four years to her masters degree, and with the father in school also that means I might be helping raise my grandbaby until almost school age.

I must admit the idea of holding a baby to my artificially enhanced breast is very appealing, what could make a person feel more feminine? But there are those consequences to deal with, and the decision is made more complicated since this is not my baby, but theirs. They accept me, but will this extend to the baby? We haven't discussed it yet, after all she isn't even showing yet, but the topic has to come up over the next seven or eight months.

Anybody know a good advice columnist I can consult?



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