Just as the yin yoga helps my body find that impossible position after a gentle and gradual approach to the objective, so I can see my members finding a solution to how they approach their partners.
Amanda is my wife’s best friend, and a woman of particular personality. She has an association with tweed that few crossdressers will understand. I certainly don’t. I suspect even her underwear is made of the coarse material, she seems to wear it with such frequency.
For all Amanda’s faults, and they are many, she also has some interesting views on things. The fact that she has known my wife for so many years is a point in her favour. She’s been a good friend to her. And then there’s her journalism. She is editor of Pig and Pig Farmer, a publication that shot to prominence under her editorial guidance when it came out and endorsed Donald Trump for president in 2016. There’s just too much there to go into, so I shan’t be drawn.
“How would you feel,” I asked her, “if you learned that your partner was interested in dressing as another gender.”
“What,” she said in panic. “Has Marjory told you something?”
“No, Amanda,” I said. “I’m trying to help some of my members out. I need your input.”
“Oh,” she said relieved. “Well, if they were male I’d say it would be a bloody improvement. After some of the people I’ve dated, I think gender reassignment might be a damned good idea.”
“I’m not talking specifically about gender reassignment,” I said. “Many men just want to push their limits a bit. Embrace the feminine.”
“Well,” she said tentatively, “I think I might find that rather exciting. Of course, it wouldn’t exactly be the first time.”
“So you’ve had boyfriends who wanted to dress?”
“Of course,” she replied.
“So, you’re good with it?”
“Good with it? I love. It. For Christ sake, I’m dating a woman. I mean, seriously. Think about it. If Marjory had – you know – all the bits as well… Of course I’d love it.”
I gave this a moments thought. So, while Amanda might not be the average woman exactly, there was something here that bore further investigation.
“So, how did these men let you know that they wanted to dress?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she laughed. “They didn’t ‘let me know’. I told them. If they want a bit of this,” and she gestured toward her ample body, “then they’ll have to wear these.”
She mimed holding out a pair of panties.
Perhaps I’d misjudged Amanda. Was it her overbearing personality, or her forceful alpha nature? I couldn’t tell, but there was no doubt about it, here was a woman who appeared to know what she wanted and was not afraid to ask for it.
This put an entirely new twist on my research.
“Fiona, if that’s what you want me to call you today,” Amanda does this. She doesn’t really approve of my overt crossdressing. “Fiona, if you really want to help your members understand how to approach their partners you need look no further than the mirror. Ask yourself how you convinced your wife to accept this,” and at this point she fluttered here hand in some random gesture, “this peccadillo of yours.”
“I have no idea what a pecadildo is,” I responded, “but I think you may have a point.”