Return of the Queen

I had a dream about dressing up last night. The truth is, I stopped cross-dressing regularly a few years ago; I think I just got bored with it. It was probably one of the  reasons why mine and Lyn’s relationship lost it’s spark, but the thought of pulling on tights, skirts and leotards just seemed to  loose it’s thrill. Recently though, I have started to dream about it again: vivid, pleasant dreams which I was disappointed to wake from.

I’m not sure why. I’m now sure that I’m quite content with life as a  guy. Long ago, I toyed with the idea of fully transitioning into womanhood: what would life be like? Would it be possible for me to live, permanently, as a woman? As I see it, Lyn explored that path for me, showing me what was possible. Perhaps she had a bravery I  don’t, perhaps Lyn’s feelings were different to mine, but I think things would  be  simpler to remain as I am. Lyn had gender dysphoria  of course, whereas I’m probably just a  bit kinky. Either way, where  Lyn acted upon her curiosity, I think I’m happy to stay put, thanks to Lyn having shown me what could be. That is  one of the reasons why she was the most remarkable person I’ll ever meet.

Yet for some reason that urge to dress up is starting to return. I still have a load of girl’s clothes which it is becoming increasingly tempting to dig out. Perhaps it’s time to do so, and let that part of me loose again. The  thrill I first felt as a teenager, of dressing up and becoming someone completely different,  seems  to be returning. Now Lyn is gone though, part of me feels it would be wrong to suddenly start dressing up again, but on the other  hand what better way to honour her memory? She broke down so many barriers, so I must do the same.

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