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� In this diary, I record my life as a transvestite. Perhaps it will help somebody else, who finds their lifestyle doesn't quite match that endorsed by the 'tranny mafia'. Well, I've been there... and survived. The debriefing starts here.

�loves: All kinds of stuff that society thinks I shouldn't.

�hates: Microsoft. Obviously.

�reads:
secret-motel
artgnome
enfinblue
stepfordtart
ten-oclock
boombasticat
lawliiet
annanotbob
fifidellabon
my-serenade

Lynn Jones
Becky
Samantha

I am a bad person
10:37 p.m. -- 2008-07-14

Lucy kept a diary, and I used to sneak a look at it.

This is not something to be proud of. It's not clever, or cunning. It's unforgivable. But I present what I learned in the hope that it will help the cross-dresser to understand his partner.

Lucy couldn't really confide in anybody. How does a girl tell her best friend that her boyfriend (and later, fiance) isn't 'all man'? She doesn't, because some of the stigma that society confers upon the transvestite would rub off on her. Why are you with him? What's wrong with you? ...and so on.

Instead, Lucy confided her thoughts to a notebook with a white, faux leather cover. Page one simply read 'Most private.' I read on.

In a way, it was good to have an insight into Lucy's thoughts and feelings. She was trying hard to come to terms with my cross-dressing, but she wasn't always being honest with me about what that was doing to her. Information published by transvestites on the internet, and in books such as 'Coping with Crossdressing' always tried to guide her towards accommodating my needs. Nowhere was anybody saying 'If you don't want to do this, it's OK. Put your foot down.'

I can see that now... but at the time I was newly-out, and I was struggling to come to terms with confusing issues in my own head. I was far too preoccupied to consider her hopes and fears.

Lucy's diary wasn't quite written in code, but she never explicitly named my addiction, perhaps in case some family member should happen to read it. Instead, she simply mentions that I 'did it again last night,' or something similar. It wasn't a diary of Lucy's whole life; just her experiences as a partner of a transvestite. There was never anything else mentioned. Sometimes the entries were daily; sometimes there was a gap of a week or more. In this, it probably mirrored my experiments in cross-dressing.

The diary was quite different in tone from the magazine article she had published. In that, she was gamely trying to be a good partner-of-a-transvestite. In her private thoughts, she was much less happy. What a shame, that she was trying so hard to be nice! And what a shame that I was too selfish to ease back on the cross-dressing. I was so excited by all the new 'firsts' I was experiencing... like wearing false nails for the first time. Lucy bought them for me, as a present.

I was too eager to accept acts such as this as a sign of whole-hearted acceptance, and thus I overlooked the information that I had purloined from the diary. Even as I kept on reading, I kept on cross-dressing.

It's something like thirteen years since I saw Lucy (or her diary), and I can't recall much about the entries, now. Just one phrase, that appeared again and again, in Lucy's loveable, slightly bad syntax:

'What if it gets more and more?'

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