Crossdressing – Do I have to be submissive?

I was asked a curious question by a member this week. I’d just got back from a dance class with Sylvester, my mechanic.  Admittedly going to a dance class with Sylvester is a little like taking a gorilla for tea with the Queen, but it is nothing if not entertaining.

“If I am a crossdresser, does that mean I have to be submissive?” wrote my member in an email.

“What do you think,” I asked Sylvester.

Continue reading “Crossdressing – Do I have to be submissive?”

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 1.

Introduction.

The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss is a series of episodes taking a hilarious look at how one crossdresser brought his wife to a place of understanding and acceptance. It’s also instructive and full of good advice to those of us who wish to introduce our dressing to the principal relationship in our life. I hope you enjoy it. Fiona

Part 1.

I sat in the garden enjoying the cool spring breeze. Sylvester crossed the lawn carrying a tray of tea and ginger biscuits.

“I’ve just had yet another experience with one of my members that leaves me feeling quite sad,” I said as Sylvester’s ham like fist gripped my delicate tea pot and poured.

“What was that, then?” he asked.

“Well, I had this chat with another member who just felt he couldn’t talk to his wife about crossdressing. I mean, really, it’s awful. So many of my lovely gurls are out there and barely even able to talk to anyone.”

“But that’s what you’re here for,” said Sylvester.

“Well, yes,” I replied. “But there are certain things that a wife can do that even I may struggle to!”

Continue reading “The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Bliss – Part 1.”

There’s never a dull moment in the advertising business.

As you likely know, I work for a well known advertising agency in an active office in the delightful cosmopolitan city of Montreal. It is often said that for each job in some industries, several other people are supported. So, for example while a car plant may employ 4,000 people a further 6,000 jobs are created servicing the 4,000 people employed with things like transport, employment services and catering. In much the same way, my work supports not just myself, but also Sylvester my mechanic, Sebastian my personal trainer, Ali my gardener, young Max who helps with technology on my blog and several other assorted hangers on and peripheral individuals.  

I was talking on this very subject with Bernard, my photographer, when we were out on agency business just the other day. Ali, who so lovingly tends my garden, spends more time there than I ever do. Instead, while he enjoys my delightful Champaign colored roses in my garden I am out driving with Bernard on a task for the advertising agency. And I’m paying Ali! It all seems rather obtuse. That said, I do love Ali, and his daughters are sweetness itself. They arrived in Canada just a couple of years ago, refugees from the war in Syria.

Continue reading “There’s never a dull moment in the advertising business.”

Marjorie has an infestation!

Hi,

Sitting in my kitchen, enjoying a quiet cup of tea, wearing my favorite kimono, I was surprised to see Ali hurrying through the gate in the fence between my garden and my neighbors. Ali, you’ll remember is my wonderful gardener. He’s a Syrian refugee, and the nicest man you can imagine.

He bustled into the kitchen looking flustered. 

“It’s Marjorie,” he said looking worried.  “She has the most terrible infestation!”

“She has?” I said, a little puzzled.

“Yes, in her bush. It’s very distressing.”

“Well, it would be,” I replied.

Ali is a gardener, but he was a professor at Damascus University prior to the war.  He is very knowledgeable about botany. When it comes to making my garden bloom, he’s sure to be all over it. 

“If her problem spreads to our garden it’s going to be horrible. Aphids are little monsters! I think I should take care of it. If I don’t everyone in Huckleberry Close is going to get it.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” I said.

Sure enough, later that evening, when Sylvester and Bernard were over enjoying a drink with me at the end of the day, Ali came back happily convinced he’d resolved the issue. He had used some sprays, a little trimming and Marjorie’s bush was looking very thoroughly groomed.

Well, done, Ali,” I said. “After rooting around in Marjory’s bush all afternoon, I think you deserve a little clap.”

As you can see, my life is never dull. By the way, some of you have asked where I get the ideas for the music I usually place in these emails. They are usually special songs for me, each with it’s own story and special meaning. I hope you enjoy them too. Today’s is a special one.

🙂

Fiona 

Let’s help Sylvester get it up.

As you likely know, I am a very busy gurl.  I like to involve myself in so many activities and hobbies, from pitching a tent to kite flying – I do love to get it up in a high wind – to supporting all my athletic friends.

Recently my friend Sylvester was bemoaning the fact I am so busy.

“I have so much on,” I said. “So many appointments.”

“But surely you could drop them, just for me.” That’s not the first time I’ve heard that line spill from his lips, I assure you.

Sylvester is being a little insistent as he wants me to be one of his supporters in the up coming local Highland Games and Scottish Festival. I am unsure if you’ve heard of this, but I will explain it to you. A number of events such as the Caber Toss and Hammer Throw are offered and competitors test their skills. Sylvester has done quite well over the years.

He’s been asking me to come down and help polish his caber up for practice a number of times recently. As I work away at the great shaft, polishing for all I am worth I often find myself humming the little song of the highlands my grandmother used to sing.

“Come where the hands are clapping
Come where the toes are tapping
Come where the jocks are strapping
Down in the glen.

Land of inclement weather
Land of the prickly heather
So keep your knees together
Scotland the brave!”

Well, I thought, if I’m going to support Sylvester in his highland fling I have to find something suitable to wear.  My first thought was a kilt, but as every gurl knows, you just can’t show up in something that everyone else is wearing. That’s when I turned to my friends at The Drag Queen Closet. I have to tell you about them, because they are so good at what they do. Firstly, their clothes are properly sized. I know that when I order the XL size it will fit me like a glove – and I don’t mean a floppy old gardening glove. I mean a sheer perfect latex sleeve that fits perfectly. Second I know it will be delivered discretely and swiftly. And finally, it will be a good quality Item I can be proud to be seen in.

Naturally they had exactly what I was looking for. So much more fun than a simple kilt, a little steampunky and at the same time elegant. The quality of this type of garment is far greater than you generally expect of CD clothes. I know it will last and I can feel good about wearing this lovely design. When it arrived a few days ago I was thrilled and I have struggled not to wear it every time I go out, because it’s meant to be a surprise for Sylvester when he’s at the competition. After all I want him to do his very best tossing his caber and get a high score.  Being there to be supportive and get it up – among the leaders – will mean the world to him.

You should seriously think about using The Drag Queen Closet for your supplies, and sooner or later you’ll be getting it up too!

Have a wonderful week,

Fiona

Bounce your way to freedom.

I walked into Sylvester’s slightly messy workshop along with Ali, who had given me a ride down to the auto repair shop in his Smart Car. I must say it’s a tight squeeze, even though we’re neither of us very large.

I wore a light cotton summer dress and some deck shoes. I offset the look with a necklace of white oversized beads and a matching bangle.

You probably know that Sylvester is something of an inventor. He’s always got one new thing on the go or another. That morning I glanced around at the busy workspace at shafts of metal, Sylvester feverishly fitting sleeves and flanges together, and what looked surprisingly like a disassembled pogo stick on the workbench.

“Dare I ask,” I said.

“It’s a device that will revolutionize the life of anyone needing a prosthetic leg,” replied Sylvester without looking up from what he was doing. “It combines the length of stride of a tall man, with the spring action of a pogo stick. It will make speed walking easier,” he paused and then added uncertainly, “and more exciting.”

“Are you quite sure this is a good idea?” I asked looking at the dubious collection of parts.

Ali looked about the place and then said, “I think I know this thing. It’s a monobouncyunipod.”

Sylvester looked up at him in surprise and said, “I had no idea you were versed in the ways of advanced neo-prosthetic engineering.” He seemed to suddenly have a new respect for Ali, my Syrian gardener.

“What,” said Ali, a little affronted. “You think we didn’t have pogo sticks in Syria before the war? We had many things. We had wonderful things,” he continued, his eyes glazing over as he looked into the distance. 

Ali continued, “My next door neighbour, Sara, had one. Bounced around on it all day.” He smiled to himself and then continued, “Her sister hurt herself and had to have part of her nose stitched back on.”

“Well, I don’t think you can call it a ‘Monobouncyunipod’. It doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue. No one will buy it,” I said.

Sylvester looked up from the workbench.

“No, you’re right,” he replied thoughtfully. “I shall call it ‘The Unitard’!”

“Oh, yes,” I said a little sardonically. “I can see it now. ‘Bounce your way to one-legged freedom with The Unitard!’. What could possibly go wrong?”

And that brings me to this weeks exciting suggestions to help you crossdressing.  The Unitard is a vastly under rated piece of clothing. And yet, for a crossdresser it’s surprisingly adaptable.

Ideally you want something that covers the arms and legs, so any unshaved areas become a non-issue. Additionally it should be easy to wear, wash and combine with other clothes. Score, score and score.

A nice unitard, combined with a plain wrap around skirt is simple and striking. Whether you just want to lounge about or be more active, check out the unitards on my Pinterest and think about dialling them into your crossdressing wardrobe.

I am traveling a lot at the moment, so expect to see me popping up at unusual hours on the site.

I am working on a special release that will be coming to my Patreon later this week. ‘The Crossdresser’s Guide To Marital Harmony’ is a fun look at how you talk to a partner or spouse about your crossdressing – and indeed if you should. Be sure to join the basic level of my Patreon for just $1 a month to enjoy this.  It will start appearing toward the end of this week. I’d also love to see you join my Patreon as I am trying to get up to that magical 100 Patrons level!

I also plan to release something very special for my Seahorses on Patreon next week. Something most unusual.


By the way, if you’d like to upgrade to the Premium Program just go here or  hit one of the images below.

Have a wonderful week,

😊

Fiona

Does this nail gun make my hands look fat?

Just the other day I was helping my friend Sylvester do some alterations in a friend’s apartment. I’d just got out of the nail salon, and as I looked at the claret polish on my nails I couldn’t help feeling it clashed with the De Walt yellow of the nail gun.

This put me in mind of something I’d been meaning to write for a while. Those of us who love to crossdress often don’t feel quite at home with our designated gender. Just because we’re walking around with nine inches (give me a break: ed) of male genitalia between our legs, doesn’t mean we have to like the color blue, chewing tobacco and driving a truck which has been ‘lifted’. More likely we feel confused by these ideas and find them uncomfortable, realizing we’re not quite the same as our brother, the jock.

Continue reading “Does this nail gun make my hands look fat?”

Let’s Get You In Shape The Fun Way.

You know keeping your body in shape is never a bad idea. However most gym exercises are very yang in nature – elevating the core energy of the body. There’s a great deal to be gained by releasing the tension in the body through a more yin form of exercise. That’s why yin yoga, or a hatha yoga class is so very important.


Some people identify this as a more feminine form of energy. I don’t really go quite that far, but I do feel that releasing tension through the use of yin yoga calm both the body and the mind. This allows me to be myself – a very feminine person.


Now, since Sebastian, my personal trainer, is off on some foolish jaunt to Molvania, teaching the less fortunate of the world about the benefits of being a vegan, I am left to take care of my own personal training needs. Honestly, how can someone be so selfish! He’s doing a stint with Personal Trainers Without Borders. Seems very egocentric to me.


Instead I will have to do my own yoga routine, along with Julie, Katia and Marjory from next door. Sylvester offered to come round and help me realign my chakras, but I’m not entirely sure that he interprets that the same way as I do. To be honest he’s far more useful greasing a half shaft and helping me with my fluids. In the car. He really can be very coarse at times.


However, I do think I should talk a little about exercise and how very important it is for all of us who crossdress. You may remember my photographer, Bernard, recently had some heart troubles resulting in a heart transplant. I am convinced this is because he doesn’t exercise properly. He really should be more committed. Admittedly being tazered certainly didn’t help. None the less he should be more aware of his health. Mind you, he’s not as bad as his brother, Fat Stewart. He hauls his bloated carcass around in a Ford F150 and is only likely to lose weight if he gets flensed.


So, after chatting with Marissa, one of my lovely members, I was put in mind of some of the benefits of exercising in the proper manner. That’s right, as a crossdresser it’s not as simple as merely going into a gym and lifting weights. If you want to look like Sylvester Stallone in a dress that might work for you, but if you’re looking for a more feminine shape it’s not going to do the things you’re looking for.


Most typical gym exercises are very yang in nature. The elevate the energy within the core of the body. As a crossdresser you’re looking for something a little different. Pumping iron bunches up the muscles and can even elevate anxiety. This is the reverse of where you want to be.


When you swim, particularly breast stroke, you are releasing energy. A slow methodical pace, using each stroke to release and push away tension, leave the body relaxed and supple. Crawl, or swimming in an over arm stroke, is more like a core exercise and isn’t what you’re looking for. The yin-like exercise of breast stroke, preferably daily, is extremely healthy and calming. It’s gentle. That feels more like where you need to go, doesn’t it?


Doing yoga is one of the best ways to allow your feminine energy to emerge. There’s no rocket science here. Getting into either Hatha, or better still, Yin yoga is a great way to find that side of yourself. Now, a word of caution. Don’t just wander into any yoga class, if you’re not sure what you’re looking for. An Ashtanga yoga class has more in common with a martial arts workout than what you likely think yoga is. You are looking for Hatha or Yin styles of yoga.


If you’re unable to get into a class I can thoroughly recommend Esther Ekhart’s website here: https://www.ekhartyoga.com/


I don’t get paid to recommend Esther. She’s lovely.


Have a lovely week, and try to get into a yoga class. If you’re a Patron and Seahorse Level of higher, you can also enjoy this spectacular self hypnosis file to make the experience all the more exciting and feminine.


🙂


Fiona.

Become a Patron!

It’s a very special day.

What a beautiful spring morning here in Huckleberry Close.  It’s a very special day for me, though you likely don’t realise it. Three years ago today I started writing the story ‘Clothes Maketh The Man’, which led to the development of my program and this extraordinary journey.

In that time, as close as Max and I can calculate, something like 85,000 people have enjoyed the story. I find this on the one hand encouraging, and on the other a little disturbing!

In celebration I think Sylvester and Ali have something planned. They keep making spurious excuses to drop by mid morning. Sylvester tells me he wants to ‘check my fluids’, which I think has something to do with the car. Ali is insistent that he was to drop of a couple of hoes. At least that’s what I think he said. He has been wanting new gardening equipment.

Anyway, it’s also International Women’s Day, and in honor of that I am including a video one of my dearest members suggested. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!

Have a lovely day,

Fiona.

Become a Patron!

Sylvester, and the mental health implications of driving a Zamboni.

As you doubtless know, I consider it my responsibility to be a guardian of my friends health. It’s just the giving nature of the person that I am. I can’t really help it, but as some have commented I am something of a carer, some have even used the word ‘healer’.

I suppose that when one is gifted in this particular direction it is unfair on others to ignore this talent. Which brings me to my concerns recently for Sylvester. I expect you’re aware that he drives the Zamboni at the local ice rink on occasion. I should also point out that here in Montreal Hockey is something of a religion. To be a driver of the Zamboni is to be a high priest in the church.

However, in this particular church there appears to be something of a schism. Maurice, another Zamboni driver, has been going wild on the ice in a manner that irritates Sylvester and things have reach boiling point. While the details of the matter are beyond me, it appears Maurice has been ‘freestyling’ on the ice.

Continue reading “Sylvester, and the mental health implications of driving a Zamboni.”

Sylvester has an enormous package.

First of all, in response to the many emails that have flooded in response to last weeks multiple choice competition. The correct answer was, of course, B – ‘He didn’t use enough lubrication.’ Congratulations to Mildred of Colorado Springs for getting the right answer before anyone else on that one.

It’s been an exciting week, not least because Sylvester burst into my kitchen this morning, a giant package in his hand.

“Goodness,” I gasped. “Sylvester, what an enormous package you have!”

“It’s just arrived from Amazon,” he declared proudly. “It’s your Christmas present.”

I hardly knew where to put myself. Instead of opening it, I decided to place it beneath the Christmas tree in my living room along with several others for my friends, as we’ll all be gathering on Christmas morning to open gifts together. I do so love this time of year.

It’s a special time as we celebrate two things. The first is, of course, a season of good will to all. And the second is The Fiona Dobson Crossdressing Man Of The Year. Last year, you may remember Sarah Huckabee Sanders won, baffling medical science. So, if you have any suggestions please email them in, and the most popular ones will be put on the website for members to vote on.

If you’re enjoying the website and emails be sure to register, or commit to The Premium Program. Your $35 subscription not only gets you the great Premium Program, but also helps support our members who are unable to join the Premium Program, by allowing me to offer our free program at no cost. It feels good to support our community.

Till next time,

🙂

Fiona

Don’t forget – you can always find The Fiona Dobson Playlist HERE. Put it on and enjoy a fun day!

Finding you in good health.

I put my own success and good health down to my adherence to a strict and healthy diet. In Canada we have a wonderful chain of health food stores, called ‘Tim Hortons’. Where ever you roam in this great land you’re never far from a healthy nutritious snack. In fact, I think it fair to say Tim Hortons has become a Canadian institution as identifiable as our polite nature, love of hockey and insistence that we elect a Prime Minister that doesn’t have a serious personality disorder.

As you may know, my wife, Amanda and our neighbour Marjory, are traveling on an ornithological tour of Western Europe.

Amanda, my wife’s appalling friend, has come down with a severe case of Canestin poisoning,  which I understand is rare but not unknown in menopausal lesbians. I hasten to point out that I do not subscribe to Sylvester’s view that when lesbians are exposed to large amounts of oestrogen they run a severe risk of having their ovaries explode. Sylvester somehow equates this to the idea that ‘males have to masturbate at least once a day, or else their testicles burst into flame.’

In my kitchen with Sylvester, Bernard and Max, my neighbours son, I poured the tea.

“Whoever told you that nonsense,” I snapped at Sylvester.

“My mother,” he said.

“Sylvester,” I said in mock protest, “that’s complete nonsense! We all know that Max has to masturbate at least four times a day to prevent such a mishap!”

Young Max blushed and pursed his lips. I smiled at him fondly. Since that embarrassing matter of the carrot, poor Max has been very subdued, poor lamb.

I made the mistake of asking Bernard how he was, since he’d only been out of the hospital a few days.

“It’s all these tests,” he said. “They make me feel like a bloody pin cushion.”

“I’m sure the doctors are doing their best,” I reassured him.

“I’ve become a slave to my prostate,” he said sounding downcast.

“Aren’t we all,” I replied a little uncertainly.

“It seems to rule my life,” he continued.

“How very awkward,” I commiserated.

At that moment the kitchen door was flung open, and in staggered Sebastian. He looked terrible, with a weeks growth of facial hair on his chin.

“Good God, Sebastian! You look like you got interrupted halfway through eating a raw porcupine. What on earth happened?”

Sebastian was shaking with energy. “Just got back from Mexico,” he shouted. His words word tumbling over themselves to get out.

“I did the ayahuasca retreat…It was… It was…” he was stammering his words out, his voice shaking.

“I think you’d better sit down and have a glass of water.” I said.

I decided to call my sister, who works at the local hospital. To cut a long story short, she swung by and using the drug testing kit nurses often carry, she determined that Sebastian’s Ayahuasca retreat could more accurately be described as an LSD retreat. That, and that he’d probably spent the last five days sleeping in a burlap sack. Not bad for a cool $3000.

As my sister was leaving she glanced at Bernard, and said, “Oh, Bernard. I didn’t see you there. I didn’t recognise you from the front.”

My sister does two shifts a week in Proctology.

This week I’d like you to take a good look through my Pinterest for some clothing ideas. As you know, I love my members to experiment. Have a lookand see if there’s anything there that takes your fancy. And before I leave you, I’ve a special request. Help our girlfriends at The Downtown Eastside Women‘s centre. They could use a hand. See the panel below for details.

😊

Fiona

 

Upgrade Now
Let’s make a difference this week. We’re appealing to you to help out some friends of ours. The Downtown Eastside Women’s Centre supports vulnerable women on Vancouver’s Eastside. Mostly these are people who have fallen between the cracks of society’s safety net. We’re focusing on this charity today because it’s in a cool city, it’s a cause I know my members will fall in line with, and because the big charities have the big advertising budgets – and the small ones are often overlooked. This is a small charity, and your gift will make a huge difference. You can support this charity by going HERE and giving something, however small, to help.
Nice Legs, Shame About The Face! Wise words from the early 1980’s. The last verse is the best one. You can always enjoy the Fiona Dobson Playlist HERE.

The Trouble With Threesomes.

You know how it is.  You all get ready, make sure you’re prepared. Everyone takes the proper precautions – you know what I’m saying.

And then it always goes like this.  One person just always, always finishes too soon. They’re way out there on their own having so much fun and then they’re done. Yes, it’s the same every time.


That’s why I never like playing threesomes at my local golf course. Sylvester and I are out there trying to find our balls, and Sebastian, my personal trainer, has already finished and is left polishing the shaft of his 9 iron.
As you can doubtless tell, Sylvester, Sebastian and I are out having a last round of golf before this glorious summer comes to an end.

tumblr_o633arjprr1uxh3kao1_500Bernard is recovering from his heart transplant at home in his bed, though I have noticed since he got the heart of a middle aged African American woman he has started behaving very strangely. He’s made an appointment to meet Amanda, the queen of tweed, and show her his ‘Mamma’s recipe for apple pie,’ and he’s join the local Baptist church choir. They were very confused when he said he wanted to sing in the soprano section.

I’ve always found teeing off in a group of four very much more satisfying. I also like to get off first, so I can feel them all coming up behind me. I’m sure you know what I mean.

But that’s not the main reason I’m writing to you tonight. It’s just to tell you I’ve recently added a new feature to my Premium Program. I’ve always had a great collection of tasks and hypnosis files for my CD friends and members. Now I have added some great new material to the Premium Program for those crossdressers who have a partner who you’d like to bring into your CD activities.

Yes, I’ve put together a special short empowerment course to help your wife or partner (of any gender) take a more dominant role. This fun series of self hypnosis recordings stimulates a more dominant aspect of the subject to emerge. Over the course of several nights they listen to hypnotic instructions that are sure to engage their more dominant self. This, coupled with a powerful set of ‘subservience’ instructions for you – and it’s a powerful tool for anyone wanting to engage their partner in some of their crossdressing.

I know you’ll love it. It’s yet another great reason to upgrade to Premium Program if you haven’t already.

🙂

Fiona.

Let me grab a towel.

Here I am getting this post ready for you in the hotel, on a hot evening here in Chicago. I hardly know where to start, so much has been going on. I suppose I should start by telling you all about Sylvester and the other night.

I wiped my chin and said to Sylvester, “Oh, my goodness!”

It took me a moment to catch my breath. “It wasn’t as salty as I expected. I can hardly believe the quantity!”

“My tool is almost worn out!” Said Sylvester. He held the pliers, and dabbed his face with the napkin. Eating east coast lobster at a fish restaurant in Chicago is a great pleasure, but a very messy one. What did you think we were doing?

Sylvester was wrestling the last bit of lobster meat from within the claw. What a character he his. Always with a tool in his hand! As I am sure you know, he’s my mechanic and friend. We flew down together to visit Bernard in the hospital who was recovering in hospital..

I should explain. If you followed last weeks email you’ll know that Bernard managed to get himself Tazered in the arrivals lounge of O’Hare airport. That is far from where the drama ended.

He was rushed through to the hospital, and there – to my horror – they found that Bernard, who had become so excited by certain aspects of my physique, was in the middle of a heart attack. I had thought he looked rather like a freshly landed trout as he convulsed following his Tazering, but not being familiar with how one generally responds to a Tazer, I thought this quite normal.

Fiona’s Crossdressing Blog

Even the police officer who gave Bernard the jolt looked quite concerned. He even showed up in the hospital as Sylvester and I were visiting. Bernard was still unconscious, and here we were three days later.

The police officer walked into the private room I arranged for Bernard, and held out his hand. “Officer Speltman,” he said. “You can call me Sparky.”

“Sparky,” said Sylvester. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah… They gave me that nickname at the academy. It kinda stuck…”

“Well, Sparky,” I said, “I’m Bernard’s friend. I’m sure he would be grateful you came and visited. If he were, you  know… conscious.”

“I’m sorry he got the jolt.  I didn’t really have a choice in the circumstances.”

I took the business card Officer Speltman offered and said I would call him when we had further news. Then Sylvester and I went and found a hotel, and a fish restaurant at which to have some dinner.

“I still don’t quite understand why Bernard didn’t get up when the cop told him to,” said Sylvester.

“I think he was concerned about his clothing being… disarranged. He was in a state of some excitement.” I felt awkward telling Sylvester that Bernard had a prominent erection and was concerned about embarrassing himself when he stood up. “Let’s just say he was hard at work, when it happened.”

The following morning I had a call from the hospital with the worrying news that Bernard was extremely ill and that the hospital was doing it’s best to locate a heart for a transplant. I am, of course, quite shocked – as I am sure you are. I will keep you informed. (See what happened next by going here: https://fionadobson.com/bernard/zipper-job/)

In the meantime, I have a very special self hypnosis file for you tonight.

This file is all about taking it to the next level, so join me in a lovely relaxing self hypnosis exercise and have a listen. And of course, I will be sure to let you know about developments with Bernard.

🙂

Fiona