Becoming Her: A Crossdressing Story Blog

Chapter 2: The Mirror Blurs The apartment was quiet that Tuesday evening. Anand stood in the bathroom, shaving cream spread along his jaw. The mirror had fogged lightly from the hot water tap. As he wiped it clean, he paused there was a tiny red bindi stuck to the corner of the mirror. He smiled faintly.“She must’ve stuck it last week,” he thought, then carefully left it untouched. He took longer to shave that day. Not because of carelessness, but because he was looking at his face, not just grooming it. His chin looked softer than before. His lips, naturally pinker. Maybe he was just noticing himself differently now. He didn’t know why Divya returned late that night. Not too late—but just past their dinner time. She had messaged earlier: “One extra call. Sorry, da.” She entered wearing a kurti and leggings, her laptop bag slung on one shoulder. Her kajal was smudged from the day, her hair messy but tied. She looked busy. Real. Confident.“Did you eat?” she asked, slipping off her sand...

 The morning light spilled through the half-drawn curtains, brushing against the vanity mirror where Karan sat, towel still around his neck. The faint scent of rosewater lingered in the air, from the cleansing wipe he’d used. He had started to like that smell. He picked up the soft satin nighty from the bedpost. It was lavender today, edged with tiny lace. He slipped into it, almost absently, then sat in front of the mirror again. The wig was there. Brushed last night. Ready. It felt strange that he always checked its parting nowhe hadn’t even noticed when that habit began. Then came the lipstick. He uncapped it, twisting the color up delicately. Coral. A shade he told himself looked neutral, not too bold. His hand hesitated only a second before the first stroke. He pursed his lips, then tilted his head slightly just enough to catch the light. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the expression staring back. Not because it was foreign, but because it was so familiar. The phone camera ...

 Missed first part - read it here  A Restless Night  Karan barely slept. Every time he shifted, the bangle on his wrist clinked, a constant reminder of the absurd situation he was trapped in. His body felt different—lighter, smoother, almost weaker in some strange way. He had never cared about body hair before, but now, every time the bedsheet brushed against his skin, he noticed it.   And Sneha’s words kept ringing in his ears.   "Who said this would last only a week?" She was just teasing… right?   The Morning After And A New Rule Karan woke to the scent of coffee. He sat up, stretching and immediately felt the saree shift around him. Right. That was real. This was real.   Sneha strolled in, looking fresh and confident, holding two cups. She handed one to him with a sweet smile. “Good morning, sweetheart.”   He took it cautiously. “Morning.”   She plopped onto the bed beside him. “So, how does it feel?” ...

The Challenge That Started It All Karan prided himself on being a man of strength, control, and tradition. Masculinity, to him, meant leading, making decisions, and ensuring his wife, Sneha, followed his guidance. He wasn’t cruel—just firm. He truly believed that a man’s role was to "protect and provide ", while a woman’s role was to "support and obey ".   Their marriage had followed this pattern for years. Karan ran a successful business, a well-established firm he had built from the ground up. Sneha was technically a co-owner, but her role was symbolic. She had "ideas ", but Karan rarely considered them. She had "dreams", but they always came second to his.   Then, one evening, everything changed.   They had invited a few close friends over for dinner. The conversation had started harmlessly, drifting from work to politics and then to relationships. But then, someone brought up traditional gender roles.   “I think it’s good when a man leads the...