I take a long steadying breath, slowly release, and thank God it finally worked out alright.

Yes, I believe in Valentine's day. When else are you encouraged to give your loved ones gifts for yourself? Though, I prefer my name for it, Self-Serving Holiday. The honesty makes it a little less hokey, I feel. Never mind that it's mostly a Halmark construct to boost a low sales period between major holidays. I take my joy where I can. For years, since I figured out just who I was and what my driving forces were, I have given lingerie as Valentine's Day gifts. No matter that it wasn't well recieved, I did it regardless. V-Day is about what I want. Boyfriends can have Christmas, birthdays, etc, Self-Serving Holiday is mine.

Yes, as I said, not well taken, this satiny lacey business. At best he smiled, nodded, and waited for his "boy" gift. At worst, I got a long winded, "Why can't you like me as I am?" speach. Not that I blaim them. I can empathise with their veiw in the situation. For me, however, the buying of women's undergarments is almost compulsory. In February, when it's hyped to all Hell, it's litterally irrisistable. Alas, I was always shot down. Way down.

This year I was on pins and needles. Six years of experience tell me I'm headed for disater. Still, I'd never dated anyone who had four drawers of women's undergarments before I got ahold of him. Not that it mattered. Anyone could guess what I was going to do. Would have been the same story, no matter the state of his closet. Starting in January, I began lingerie shopping. I didn't end up with as much as I would have liked, but it was more extravagant than previous years. Would my panting enthusiam put off even a seasoned transvestite? I was uncertain, but determined.

Some mistakes were made in size and fabric (I seldom got them as far as into the clothing, so my experience there was limited), but my heart was in the right place.

And for the first time ever, in six years of knowing my sexual orientation, trying to find some way of expressing myself sexually and romantically, for the first time...I was knocked over backwards onto the bed and told I had "won". I could have wept (if I weren't so super retentive with the macho-no-cry thing). The relief was so all consuming I almost didn't notice he was kissing me while he said it. For the first time ever, it was okay.

Who got lucky that night? Oh yeah, it was me.

There was a black satin nightie involved.

It was not me wearing it.

My deepest, most heartfelt thanks to my dear Bobbie, Kathie, Erin, Princess,
Siren for giving me the most precious gift I've ever recieved, true acceptance.