Today I picked up my eldest daughter from Watford Junction railway station. She'll be home a few days before setting off for some travelling in central America.
Having talked things over with my wife I'd decided that now was the time to explain about Andrea.
Driving back we chatted about this and that.
Eventually I gave up looking for a way to say something that would fit into the context of the conversation. So .. it just came out as:
"I need to tell you something ... I'm a transvestite ... do you know what that means?"
A strange thing to ask in a way since I don't really know what it means.
One of her first questions was to ask if that meant that I like men.
Then there were lots of others.
She didn't freak out. And she tried to understand.
She asked why I hadn't said something years ago if I'd been cross dressing for so long.
I think she understood when I explained that it's not such an easy thing.
She talked with my wife later. Concerned about how my wife felt about it. Wondering if she (my wife) loved me.
The love thing isn't easy for me. The answers that I get include words and phrases like "yes", "you're a great friend", "you're a great dad".
There are things missing though. Passion. Sex.
My wife is at a stage in life where she says these things aren't important. At least not when combined. She's also past the stage of feeling that she'll be obliging to keep me happy.
I've talked to several people who talk about living with a person that they love and yet not being in love with the person that they love.
Sometimes I feel that this is the kind of place that we are at. It's not always an easy place to be.
I think my daughter is ... well ... as OK as can be expected or hoped for.
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