I walked the final stretch and got home, collapsing on my couch. My feet burned. I was exhausted, but let out a giant sigh of relief, almost expecting to wake up. But I didn’t. I really had gone to work as a girl, I really had gone unnoticed, and the heels really were still glued onto my feet. And then the next thought entered my mind- what about tomorrow? What about the day after that?? It turned out I had been right to wonder, because the heels still wouldn’t come off. I finished the week in the damn things. I remember the day I no longer felt pain in my legs-they had just adapted, like all living things do. The whole thing was getting out of control. I had no exit strategy-I just assumed the heels would eventually come off and I could return to work as myself, like nothing had happened. But they didn’t.
Another week had gone by and they were still glued to my feet, tightly as ever. I didn’t know what to do. I thought about giving up, just showing up to work as myself, with the heels, explain why I had done what I had and apologize. But what help would that be? Then I would just be a man stuck in high heels. I would be ridiculed. Possibly fired. It would’t help anything, and I was too ashamed to consider it. Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they did. My boss told me that my “brother” had officially been let go- and that I was now his permanent replacement. My disguise had lost me my job! I came home that day in a stupor. I couldn’t confess then! I needed that job until could find something else- and I wouldn’t be able to do that until I got myself out of that mess. Crossdressing had used to be fun for me- but now it was a prison that I couldn’t escape.
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