Righting Wrongs (or The Yin and Yang of Honesty)

It all started with a cassette tape.

A cassette tape in which an emotionally unstable woman speaks about her connection to a man she cannot have. She gives details of what has transpired, in an effort to keep the man in her life. At the same time, she shows her instability by accusing him of being gay, in unflattering terms for a heterosexual man with a family. She's lashing out.



It is at that point in Fatal Attraction that I wondered, if I am Michael Douglas' character, maybe I should cut my losses and play that tape for my wife. Come clean, and and try to right the wrong of having an affair with deranged Glenn Close. It might be very painful, and it turned out to be when not long after, he does admit to his affair. We don't see if the wife ever hears the tape. By his temporary exile, it seems the hurt of the affair, in the moment, trumps any other feelings of getting through the situation together.

I had not seen this movie before, and just chose it randomly while surfing through Amazon Prime movies. I was only 12-13 when it first came out, and I can see why now I wouldn't have been exposed to it at the time. It was pretty intense. Of course, in Hollywood fashion, a conclusion is reached in the end, and we can presume that life went on for the affected family. Albeit, I bet, with lots of therapy and complete avoidance of bunny rabbits.

In watching the movie, of course I reflect on my own situation, and look for things that resonate. I had the thought that I feel like the net result of all my hiding (and not hiding) in terms of gender confusion over 20 years (and before that, just not in a married context) has left me in a place where I feel like I had an affair, too. Though I haven't. Not even close, unless you count flirting on the internet. Which many people do believe is completely wrong, including my wife. I can't really blame them.

I've reached the point where I'd really like to right the wrongs of the past, be upfront, and move on. Salvage some happiness from a history of the opposite. But, how to do it?

I sub-titled this post "The Yin and Yang of Honesty" because I feel that struggle of how to proceed on many things. As you read on, maybe why I struggle becomes apparent, and I'm not just a jerk. I inherited from my mother an often brutal honesty, which I always felt was better than lying (maybe not the "brutal" part; tact is a good thing that I wish I possessed more of). But at the same time, I feel like a hypocrite, because I have purposely been deceitful regarding my cross-dressing and online activities over all this time.

I truly believe everything happens for a reason, and that the seemingly random is not random at all. With that in mind, I have come to accept myself for who I am, and I desire to meld my true desires and wants and needs into the framework of my actual life. I want to dress the way I want, I want to be able to embrace as friends others that walk a similar, different path like I do. I feel like I've really scaled back on the need to completely up-end myself and everything around me. It may be too late, however. I don't know.

So, just as gender dysphoria creates an internal struggle of "I'm a woman/no, you're a man", I wrestle with how to be true to myself, and yet be honest with others, when I know how greatly opposed the people in my family are to what I see as my growth as a person. There doesn't seem to be an easy answer to that, but as things have transpired, I'm sticking with honest. I'll try to answer questions truthfully, tactfully, as much as I can going forward.

Which brings me to the question of, what is truth in this context? It's simple in the abstract. You say what actually happened in all circumstances. You do not hide activities from those important to you. Easy, right? After all, not having to keep up with the lies you tell is less taxing on the brain. I always felt that I'm a terrible liar, so I don't bother to lie. If you look at my actions, that's not exactly true at all. I've lied, I've hidden.

In the movie, eventually the wife, Anne Archer, is clued into what's been going on. Only after the man sees no alternative, because he realizes the woman he had the affair with is NOT GOING AWAY. He needs help, and reaches out for it. You can tell that he knows he messed up badly, and is getting some extreme circumstances as a result. He loves his family. And so, the situation can no longer be swept under the rug.

Suppose then that Glenn Close's character, as she initially appears, really is "discrete". The affair really only lasts the one weekend. Michael Douglas goes back home, and continues his happy family. The wife never hears about what happened, and it doesn't happen again. Is this a good outcome? Where Douglas is left knowing what he did was wrong, and perhaps wrestles with those demons for the rest of his life, or perhaps he forgive himself and becomes an even better husband and father as a result. Is this a happy ending?

It would make for a dull movie that ended quickly, that's for sure. But that's Hollywood's problem. Life is made up of mostly dull moments. What I'm trying to get at here is, in my life, and maybe yours too, a lot of the "deception" was an effort to deal with my "issues" on my own, despite not understanding them well until the past few years. I have not wanted to hurt anyone. I wanted to have a happy life. Even now, where much more is known about myself, both by myself and by my family, that's the goal.

I honestly have no idea how far Shannyn really goes. I am just wanting peace now with the occasional smile, lol. In the past, I've chronicled the little things I do to keep Shannyn alive while I continue to try to figure things out. I'm semi-proud of how I handled a tiny interaction just yesterday, since I think it might represent growth in how to be honest and yet not be brutally honest. To soften any blow.

I was sitting in the living room, working on a jigsaw puzzle I bought to try to use my energies a bit more positively, keeping it very simple. As if a 2000 piece puzzle could ever be simple! My wife was tidying up, as we going to have company, and thus doing a load of laundry. She didn't have enough for a full load, and asked me if I had anything that needed to be washed.

What I've been doing for a while is keeping my clothes separate, and handling them myself on the weekends. It seems a little easier that way. Part of that reason is that I do wear panties. I used to hide them and wash when no one was looking, which was kinda gross, in actuality. I've progressed to where I keep everything in one place, and wash them with other things. I know that my wife doesn't want to see or mess with my panties, so I handle it.

To make a long story short, I answered my wife by saying that I would handle my stuff later. She kinda figured out what this meant and asked, "is there something there you don't want me to see?" I replied with a subtle difference, in my mind. I hope maybe it's appreciated in some small way. I said, "there are some things there that you don't want to see." I told the truth, and to me, instead of hiding it like I could have, I answered in a way that expressed my attempt to protect her from something that would anger her, or at the least, make her uncomfortable.

A lot of what I have done in the course of my marriage has been in a similar vein. Protect while still trying to be myself. Honesty has a good side, and can have a dark side. Yin. Yang. I've often gone about "protecting" in much, much worse ways than I did yesterday. And I regret that. The damage is likely irreparable. But, I can only go forward. I may not right the wrongs, but perhaps I can can commit a few less wrongs, in this area, than before. All we can do is try, right?

If you read this, I hope it made you think. I'd love to hear stories about how perhaps you dealt with your own situations where you wrestled with whether to be honest or not, and what the results were.

Hopefully, the results weren't fatal. (That's a pun in reference to the movie. Ha Ha.)