The following essays are the personal stories of those who have
taken a transgender path. They are presented to the curious as a
counter to popular misconceptions, and to those considering this path
as an assurance that you are not alone.
I am writing this because I have been silent far too long now.
First let me tell you a little about myself, I am now 23 years old and
came from a violent alcoholic family. I remember very little about my
earliest years because my mind has seen to protect me from some of the
more horrible memories. My life like so many others has been one of
confusion and bitterness because I have been forced to accept a life
with an affliction known as gender dysphoria.
My earliest recollections of crossdressing were at a house next to
my grandparents. I had an aunt who at the time would babysit the girls
that lived there. During these times she would also help them practice
ballet and being the only boy she would try to get me to practice
along with them, I remember very little about these times save for the
tights and leotard I was talked into wearing. I also learned the
intricacies of ballet, which I have long since forgotten. I remember
that I was treated just as the girls were, and though I felt that this
was wrong I still felt shivers of excitement at the feel of these
strange and feminine clothes on my body. This went on for months until
my aunt moved away to go to nursing school.
I imagine that at the time she saw this as merely innocent play,
but it was to have a very profound and confusing effect on my life. As
time went on I started to search for other clothes with which I could
live out my girlish fantasies in. I also had another aunt who was the
others sister, and I found her styles were quite a turn on for me to
wear. I also started to search out more items in my own home as well
as my grandparents house, and within months I was building a
collection so large it was nearly impossible to hide away. This went
on for some time until, one day I was caught by my mother upstairs in
the room I stayed in at Grams. The look on her face was one of shock
and horror, and she had no idea what to do with me.
I was terribly ashamed and felt that something was very wrong with
me, and there was no one that I could ask to explain this to me. It
was during this time that I began to act out on the surface, but went
ever deeper into myself. I became secretive about what I was doing and
talked very little to anyone. I was very confused about why I felt how
I did, and had no idea what was wrong with me. I felt compelled to
wear women's clothing, and at the time of my first sexual awareness my
fantasies revolved around me being a girl. I could talk to know one,
and with the fact that my parents often came into talk to me in my
room I was probably caught a hundred times, each one with the same
look of disgust and lack of understanding.
It was when I was thirteen that I had gotten in so much trouble
that I was sent to a treatment center, my family was falling apart and
I was torn apart inside with my own very personal conflict. During the
time I was in treatment my parents thought they would bring this issue
up with the counselor, and they put me under a microscope. I have
never been more embarrassed in my life since that two hour session. I
was asked all types of questions, yet no one had any answers for me
and I was very mad at being cornered like this. I came home a few
months later and for a time things were fine, but again I felt the
feminine side of me pull me back to where I had hidden my collection.
With great alarm I found it was gone, and I went searching that
night for my dresses and lingerie. I found them in the basement of our
shop, in my fathers hobby room where he built scale models of cars.
And it was this night I got the greatest shock of all. It had never
occurred to me that the lingerie was far too small for my mother who
was heavyset, and I began to get suspicious finding male pornography
mixed into the chest where the clothing was stored, along with
catalogs and breast prosthesis and a pair of latex underwear with a
vagina fashioned into the front of it. It was then that I realized who
I had been borrowing clothes from all this time, my own father.
About a year later I finally felt comfortable enough to bring all
of this up to my mother about my dad, and also about myself. It was
from this time on that I had found my protector. She swore me to
secrecy about him and explained that she had been dealing with this
for years with him, and my interest only made it worse. She did
promise not to just walk in on me and something of acceptance was
finally found at last. It was because of this bond that I developed
such a close relationship to my mother and after all these years I can
finally talk to her about parts of this subject. There are parts of
this she has no knowledge of save for hints made at various times. I
continued on in the years that followed and always felt out of place
when the guys in high school would talk about women the way they do. I
always felt out of place because of my dark secret. I still fantasized
about being a girl, and would daydream about it often, becoming
distracted in school. I would watch the other girls to see how they
acted and carried themselves and when I was alone I would try to
imitate it.
As I reached the age of sixteen I had as many female clothes as any
girl my age had and I was always trying to conceal what I was doing
and most nights I would sleep in something feminine as soon as I felt
I was alone for the night. I also lost my virginity that year and the
whole time the only thought in my head was that I wanted to be
Jessica, the girl I was with. I didn't enjoy it very much and I
resolved that I would try to become as masculine as I possibly could,
thinking I could escape this double life I was living. We broke up
shortly thereafter and I was single for six months. During that summer
I met Melissa, who later became my wife.
I felt that joining the Army would help me to straighten this out
so eighteen days after graduation I was in Basic Training. I was still
living totally in the closet save for 3 family members knowing, and
now I was a soldier. Upon completion of Advanced Individual Training,
I was sent on a hardship tour to Korea for a year, and the whole time
I felt very conscious of my body in the barracks. I also didn't feel
like I fit in with the guys so I began to drink and party with them
downrange, (our term for the villages). I tried to play the single man
bit and became a motorpool stud. Unbeknownst to them on one of my
overnights with a girl, we had sex and said she would be back in an
hour. When she didn't return to the hooch, I began to go through her
clothes, and in no time I was wearing her outfits and putting on her
makeup, while up front in the bar my buddies were drinking and whoring
it up. She never came back that night till I was sound asleep, but I
was very happy indeed because I had gotten to do what I had missed for
so long.
After the tour ended I got married to Melissa. During the entire
ceremony I remember feeling jealous of her getting to be the bride.
After a short honeymoon we moved to Ft Hood Texas, where I was
assigned to the Cavalry. It was during this time that being in good
shape helped me in another way. I was a full head taller than my wife
but very thin, and when she would visit her friends I would go through
the drawers and closets and put on the clothes she had that I could
fit. That was most surprising because she was a petite 5'0" and I
am 5'9" and still could wear some of her clothing. This went on
for a year and a half, and our marriage was getting very bad for both
of us. During this time I felt that I had to tell her what was
happening to me.
I had gone to Desert Storm and returned to do the very same things,
and I finished up my time in service and we returned home to
Minnesota. Our marriage was shaky already and we had separated twice
by this time. Shortly before the birth of our son, I shared the
details of this condition to her. The night I told I fear I made a
mistake, because I dressed up and got back into bed. I was rubbing
myself against her and she flew out of bed enraged by what I was
doing. She had been shocked by what I had told her and now she felt I
had gone too far. I had asked her that when I was dressed especially
that I wanted to be treated as a woman, she hadn't known how to take
it at all. It was during this time that I gave my feminine persona a
name, which was Michelle, a name I had always liked a great deal.
The following day in openness I asked her if I could finally start
my own collection of clothing again, and grudgingly she consented. I
was in seventh heaven and giddy with excitement. I was finally going
to be allowed to live the only way I felt right about doing. This was
a new era in my life and of course I was anxious for my first order to
arrive. I admit that part of my rationale for telling her about this
was because catalogs were starting to gather at home and I may not
beat her to getting the packages from the apartment managers office.
My first order was over $400 and I was impatient for it to arrive. The
greatest pleasure had been to openly go shopping through the catalogs
at the kitchen table for hours on end carefully planning out my new
wardrobe. Several events were to shock me greatly over the next few
weeks. First of all, my order came in and I went into our soon to be
born sons bedroom for an hour glorying in the feel of my clothes on my
body. When she came in I was very embarrassed at first, but too happy
to let it stop me now, I was on my way. When she jumped on me and we
made love passionately it was my turn to be shocked.
This was a whole new dimension to our marriage, and in my eyes
opened doors I had never even thought of. I insisted on her calling me
Michelle when I was dressed and I imagine that it was my newfound
freedom breaking loose with a bang. She was very against that part,
but she did treat me in a very feminine manner and that was a fair
compromise for the moment. I asked her for one other favor and that
was to pick me up some things in town, including makeup, and she said
she had no idea what I liked so I would have to come along too. This
was the experience of a lifetime, and to the clerks it must have been
obvious who they were for, due to our difference in size. This was
extremely exciting to me and I enjoyed it immensely. Who ever would
have imagined the degree of support she was giving me. This was not to
last long however, as weeks past she started to attempt to forget this
so I went back to being independent with it again.
Our marriage was also having more and more problems now, so things
were on the rocks in every other way now. During the next several
months we had two more separations, one for a week and one for three
months, and after getting back together again, two and a half months
later it was over for good. We had finally destroyed everything else
in our marriage and on November 11th, 1992, we separated
for the last time, this time with me leaving. My whole life was
shattered and I wanted the end of it to come. I was living with
family, with only this, school, and a few of my closest friends to
help me get through.
By Summer of 93, I was back on my feet in my own place and I met a
girl. I really couldn't stand her but I was dressed most of the time
around her when alone at home and she accepted this easily. I found
that the only reason I could tolerate her at all, but I continued this
for months because I now had my freedom to be myself with another
human being again. She bought me many presents and I felt like roles
had started to reverse. All the gifts were feminine, including makeup,
and clothes. The only problem with it were our different tastes, and I
often kidded her that if she listened to my advice she would be one of
the best dressed women in the whole town. I was starting to find some
humor in the anguish now, and even really enjoying the freedom I had
living alone. I had started to accept that this wasn't something I was
going to grow out of and occasionally I felt that I wanted to go the
rest of the way as well, but at this time I had very little knowledge
about transsexuality at all.
It was during this time that I found my hero, a transsexual by the
name of Tula, of which most people are very aware of. I found her to
be both beautiful and witty, a striking combination. The most
important part of it was that for the first time I had some
information to understand what was going on inside of myself. I had
gone through marriage counseling alone before this woman had entered
my life, and they had taken a personality test. Some of the questions
asked about whether I had ever wanted to be a girl, and related
questions. I gleefully answered yes to all, hoping that it would stand
out in the results and later I would be questioned about it. I was
depressed when nothing of the sort got mentioned, because it would
have been my chance to attempt to resolve the conflict going on inside
me.
After some months I could no longer handle the woman, in spite of
the shared interest in my feminine side and I sought to have solitude
from her and others. For months I just enjoyed living alone and having
my son every other week, so I was still in seventh heaven that way,
even though so much was yet to be done. Then I had a real godsend,
AOL, which has changed my life forever.
It was here that I met someone I fell in love with, found out a
wealth of information on gender issues, and also started to use my
feminine persona more actively online. I met others like me, and most
of these people know of my distaste of labels and stereotypes, but it
at least gave me a new language to learn to describe my condition in a
way that others can stand. I recently have decided that I need to
begin counseling to deal with this issue, because I know I am no
longer a cross dresser. I never get sexual excitement out of being in
a feminine role, but rather feel that I am acting in a way I need to
be. The woman I am with is incredible, but God only knows now what
twists and turns are up ahead as I finally unravel the pieces of the
puzzle that is my life.
One thing's for sure now, I am definitely on my way, no matter
which way this leads I can now see it out to completion. I love the
woman I am with, but recently had started to actually say good-bye to
her. She works in the insurance business, handling claims, and she has
dealt with transsexuals before, paying their bills, but never thought
she would deal with the issue with someone she is in love with. I can
now only trust to God, and support of friends as the answer gets
closer each day. I am proud of who I am, I have no reason to feel
shame, and I have found that helping others get to my point of
acceptance with this is a very fulfilling way to return the support I
have had for so long now. I recently started the TS Support Room on
AOL, as a forum to discuss these very issues and I hope from it will
come the answers so many of us desperately need to get ourselves in
the right direction.
BACKGROUND; I was born in February 1947. In the spring of 1950 my
family (Mom, Dad, Sister and Me) moved to California because I was
asthmatic. It didn't help my chronic attacks so in 1952 we moved back
to Ohio, and our old neighborhood. The new house we moved into was
about ten blocks away from our old house. My sister was and still is
very pretty but back then we played quite allot together. My sister is
353 days younger than me.
My first memory of crossdressing is in this house. As children go
we got bored with our toys and make believe scenarios. We played
grocery store, house, cowboy/cowgirl, etc. Well I can remember my
sister asking "What can we play now?" On this one occasion I
responded "Lets play dress up you be the boy I'll be the
girl" Of course she went along we were completely oblivious to
the gender stigma attached to clothes. As I remember this only
happened four or five times until she didn't want any part of this
make believe game. Try as I might she rejected the game each time. My
next exposure to crossdressing would be by myself quite a few years
later.
At about this time I started having a nightmare. I call it this now
because then it was a very traumatic experience when it occurred. I
would wake up each time very scared, distressed and confused. Here I
must say the dream was the same every time I dreamt it. I had three or
four a year over a period of probably five or six years.
As the dream started it was like the description of an out of body
experience you hear about. My mind would be watching a scene
unfolding. Though I would not be conscious of that mind being in a
body. It was sort of like only my consciousness or intellect observing
this 3D Technicolor panorama unfolding. It seemed as though I were a
very great distance above a lightly wooded area. Not being concerned
with the forest in particular my attention would immediately be drawn
to a log cabin resting gently on a very green patch of perfectly kept
lawn. The lawn subtly rolled away from the cabin in all directions,
peaceful was the only way to describe it.
Looking at the cabin I am then drawn into it almost automatically
and only by sight or so to speak telescopically. After the first few
times dreaming the dream I tried to resist this but I couldn't.. As I
zoom in on the cabin it becomes transparent and I am suddenly gazing
at the scene inside. The walls of course are logs. The light inside is
soft and warm but I don't know where it is coming from. Then I notice
a very attractive very young very blonde little girl. She is sitting
in front of the only window that I am aware of. Sitting, rocking just
gazing out that window content and happy looking. The rocker is a
child's rocker, you know small, but real old looking.
She is very pretty in her pink dress with lace at the collar, cuffs
and hem. Her hair is as soft as corn silk and about that color too. In
her hair is a pink ribbon holding back her hair so only part of her
ears are showing. Soft gentle curls cascade out of the ribbon and seem
to flow from it. The curls sway easily a tiny bit as she rocks back
and forth. With all this that I see I can't remember ever seeing her
face though.
I am aware of her emotions also almost as if I am connected to her
feelings. She is content, happy and pleased by the sights outside the
window. Rocking in the little chair and gazing out the window makes
her very happy. Then an overwhelming feeling sweeps over my whole
consciousness. I have an unmistakable knowledge that I am that little
girl in the chair, I knew it, I could feel it, all my being knew I was
her and she was me. At best I was completely confused by this sense of
a connection with her. I didn't understand any of this but I knew what
I knew. That person in the rocking chair was me! Why, how, or what for
I didn't have the slightest idea. I could feel the contentment the
peace inside this little girl. I knew she was happy where she was and
what she was. All this peace, contentment and connection I could feel.
Then I became aware of a rumbling, distant sound. You know the kind
of sound that when you hear it, even for the very first time, you know
it isn't a good sound something bad is coming. Well, that's what this
brought to me, pure fear. As the sound came closer the little girl's
joy turned to terror. Still watching out the window as the sound and
apprehension increased her rocking decreased. Then she stopped rocking
and just leaned towards the window, watching and waiting. She knew
what was approaching and she knew what would happen. I could feel her
fear mounting.
Then just as in the beginning of this scene my consciousness zoomed
backwards out into space. Automatically, as if someone just pushed the
button on a rocket and I flew back out to my original, detached, safe
position. Once there the otherwise pastoral scene was transformed into
a terrible scene of destruction. The quite calm cabin was about to be
crushed by an avalanche of large rocks and earth.
As I watched from my lofty and safe observation point I could still
feel the little girls' emotions. The peace, warmth, and happiness now
were replaced with terror and panic. It filled me to my very core and
I would cry out and weep uncontrollably. Then the emotional
transmitter ceased and it's now terrible transmission silent. The
little girl was dead and so was that part of me that she was. At this
point I would wake up usually drenched with sweat and filled with that
lingering terror that something in me had really died, but I was still
alive. Many times after I quit having that dream I wondered why she
died what this nightmare meant. Then one day it hit me I killed her,
each time I denied she was in me. She was the girl in me sitting
patiently, awaiting her time to leave that cabin. Waiting to breathe
Gods fresh air, see the beautiful world He made and show off that
pretty pink dress she wore. Time after time the avalanche of guilt
would crush her and the beauty inside her. leaving me empty, alone,
and crying because I killed her again and again.
Then the dream stopped sort of by itself. As I remember it may have
stopped around the first time I put on one of my sisters' dresses when
we moved into another house in 1959. Time clouds many of the dates but
the sights and emotions that happened over and over I'll never forget.
Well, we are proud now who we are.
We are alive and living our lives together now.
We are at peace now that I have accepted her.
We both are happy now that she is out of that cabin and I am out of
that guilt.
We may still not be able to venture beyond that soft green velvet
lawn and out into that forest of unknowns, yet.
We have put up a welcome sign in the yard finally. The most
important though is I will never lose her ever again. The rest of our
lives will be at peace, happy and together.
Enclosed is the journal I kept during my trip to Chicago. I offer
it pretty much as I wrote things down. I couldn't have made this trip
without all of the support and love received from this group which I
have come to call the Electronic Gender Community.
Thanks for the support.
Stephanie
The following is a journal kept during the Be All You Can Be
convention hosted by the Chi Chapter in Chicago, from June 8-12, 1993.
- Stephanie Julia Havens -
"My Journey - Be All You Can Be - 1993"
Day One - June 8, 1993.
What a day. When I awoke this morning I knew Steph was beginning a
new adventure and my life would never be the same again. I was very
excited and terrified at the same time. Chicago!
I was up until 2 am packing a suitcase that contained enough cloths
for two weeks. Yet I knew the whole trip would last only 6 days. I
will never bad mouth an over packed lady again. Thank god I visited
Joan and "borrowed" a few things. Stephen needs to take
Stephanie shopping.
Took long bath and SHAVED! I'm read to go. Three quick stops; Post
Office, Car Wash, Museum, then on the road. It should take about nine
hours to arrive in Chicago. (Wrong - only 6)
Funny thing happened outside of Rockford. I decided to wear the
forms under my white sweater. I pulled over for gas and got out to
fill the tank. There was a gentleman filling his car just in front of
mine. As he looked over I realized what I had on and that without
makeup I looked like a guy with a serious glandular problem. Lost the
forms before paying for gas.
Arrived at the Ramada Inn, sit of "Be All" by 3 pm.
Coincidentally the cab I followed into the parking lot contained my
room mate Michelle from CT. Inside the lobby I call for Naomi and make
connections.
Still in male mode, Michelle and I walk up to the counter and
announce "Room for Stephanie and Michelle." I couldn't
believe it cam out of my mouth. the clerk made me spell my name and
she (Joan) found the slips and we signed in.
Michelle and I hit it right off. We exchanged herstories and firsts
like old friends. This was Michelle's 5th Be All and while
ironing clothes for the week she fills me in on what to expect.
6pm we head to dinner and eat a wonder Italian meal at the hotel.
conversation was like that between old friends even though we had only
met 4 hours earlier. (Cool)
Back up in the room Stephanie makes her first appearance. (Joan you
are right, plucking the eyebrows makes a huge difference.) Michelle is
working on her legs, arms, eyes. I decide to give plucking shot. WHAT
A DIFFERENCE!!!
Michelle gave me the most wonderful earrings. They use converter so
you can take studs and turn them into clip-ons. WOW!
I decide to take a chance and leave the room for some soda. The
first attempt went down in flaming failure. There were 3 men waiting
at the elevator and I couldn't get past. I was frightened but I didn't
panic. So I returned to the room with my tail dragging.
Michelle told me not to panic and take my time. Where have I heard
that before. Later I made it to the machine, what a feeling of
freedom. Still I am very self-conscious.
As the day closes, I prepare for bed and think of what is yet to
come. What an adventure.
Day Two - June 9, 1993.
My first day out. After the plucking of the eyebrows last night,
the eye makeup looks much better.
Registration begins at 10. So Michelle and I head down the
elevator. Still very nervous I brace myself for sharing a ride with
the other guests. It is always worse in you fears than in real life. A
change begins to take place that is what I came here for.
No one is in the registration room. So Michelle and I go exploring
the hotel. The outdoor pool looks wonderful. Maybe later in the week
for a dip. I begin to gain confidence as we walk and talk. I get used
to the stares and resolve that this is going to be a good week.
By 11:30 Michelle and I have been sitting in the Registration room
for 30 minutes. We have met and chatted with Sandy and Karen.. They
are a husband and wife couple from Canada. Just another example of how
open and accepting this community is.
During registration met Vicki from IN. She is a country western
impersonator. Rachel, Vicki, and Michelle and I chat, have lunch and
can feel others watching. It doesn't matter. (We are sharing the hotel
with the Baptist General Conference [state] Convention).
Some of the Vendors have arrived, and I strike up a conversation
with Anne for Louisiana. When I informed her that she might not have
my shoe size, she starts looking. (Size 9 1/2, she specialized on
larger sizes) She produced at least 5 pairs in my size. There are two
pair I immediately fall for, a pair of red flats and a black pair of 1
1/2+ pumps. I can only afford the flats but I'll have the pumps by
Friday.
Short nap & the White Welcome dinner time 6:30. I became
enthralled with all of the women who arrive. Beginning to feel part of
a sisterhood. Politics is the conversation over dinner of salad,
chicken (oriental) and almond Mousse. Some average and some drop dead
good looking women.
Nature calls and another first, the women's restroom. (I've cleaned
enough of them.) It just didn't feel right to go to the men's room in
a white sundress with pink turtleneck. First time to adjust make up.
Prior to the start of dinner we all stood and introduced ourselves
and I found three other girls from MN; Roseville, St. Paul, and
Duluth. Cool.
Heading off to the bar...
Tomorrow brings a boar tour of Lake Michigan, and a make over
lesson from the Mary Kay rep (Fay). I know they may have been
buttering me up, but I enjoyed the compliments just the same. The
agreed to teach me how to do my eyes, I can hardly wait.
Everyone looked great. A few people commented on how lovely the
gold bracelet looked. As well as the nicety of having a GG friend.
(THANKS JOAN)
Today is the first time in my life I got my shot at being a girl,
and I loved it. Thanks
Day Three - June 10, 1993.
As the day begins, Stephanie becomes more real to me. Today is for
fun only. A boat ride s schedule at 10am. I head down stairs to get
into the vendors room to meet with Fay and set up an appointment. On
the books for 3 pm.
I run into Sonya, a designer from In. She is spending the day going
into Chicago to meet with designers to sell her line of fashions.
Living out a dream.
The bus ride over almost wipes out everyone. They never should have
used school buses. The traffic due to construction is as bad as St.
Paul was last year during the worst of it. 3x.
On the boat I have a lovely chat with two of the ladies from MN.
They told me they brought NO male clothing along. Whew. The read of
the boat ride I talked with Sandy & Karen. Except for chat with
woman from Mississippi. We decide that if Stephanie make a public
coming out, I'll do it as the first Cross Dresser to canoe the
Mississippi from end to end.
3pm and even though I am exhausted and sun burned, I sit down and
take the lesson from Fay. She explains proper skin care and make up
application. $103 is the cost of all of the accessories to make the
face beautiful.
5:30 a new adventure begins. Rachel, from Houston, introduces me to
Amanda from IN/FL. We decide not to take the bus to the dinner
theater, but take Rachel's rented Continental.
When we got into her car and looked around, the busses have left
without us. Here we are three tourists with no idea of how to get to
the theater. We head south in hopes of catching the busses. Amanda
caught them moving down the free way parallel to the frontage road we
are on. Quick U-turn and we are on the same road, but no busses.
We head south and go on for about 30 miles before pulling off at an
oasis to call for directions. My personal instincts cause me to
volunteer to make the phone call. So out of the car, not feeling
particularly feminine I trudge into the Wendy's and make connections
with the Candlelight Dinner Theater.
Back on the road we laugh about the whole incident and continue
onto the most wonderful performance I have ever experienced. First
half of the play was a solo actress singing every word, the second was
a dance troop of 12 dancing the same story. AWESOME. (Andrew Lloyd
Weber's: Song & Dance)
Back to the hotel by 11. I talk Michelle into coming down to the
bar to get a coke. While there I spot a Baptist minister I met in the
elevator the previous day.
I went over to say hello and see how the conference was going. This
began a two hour Q&A session. They put my faith to the test and
wanted to beat me with scriptures, but failed. Having a rock solid
faith in Christ got me through the last 24 years, and didn't leave me
when I needed him most. They also couldn't shake my lifestyle choice.
The women couldn't truly accept Stephanie, but told me that I
carried myself very well and by the end began to understand. I also
realized for the first time that Stephen was very firmly entrenched
inside. I was a whole person with an eclectic taste in clothing. I was
comfortable with who I was and had become for the first time in over
20 years.
Exhausted I slip into bed a whole person.
Day Four - June 11, 1993.
Boot Camp! The session spoke about how to carry oneself,
comportment. Most of this I learned a long time ago as an actor. How
to stand, sit, walk, and just present yourself in the best light. The
leader was a CD of many years who was pinch hitting for her wife who
is a professional model.
Fashion was the next topic. Nothing that I hadn't read about in the
newspapers or seen on television. I did learn how to use color to
create the illusion of a waist line.
The keynote luncheon speaker made a wonderful point...labels like
CD,TV,TS are for the back of your shirts and dresses.
After lunch Rachel full fills a dream...to go to the mall. We talk
Amanda into going with. Amanda says she wouldn't miss my first
"mall crawl" for the world.
We head out to the Woodfield mall and head for a larger women's
store. There is a freedom and nervousness that I feel until Rachel
asks the head clerk, "how many cross dressers do you sell
to?" The ice broken the store clerks open up and all is normal.
We had to talk Rachel into this beautiful dress and then into
buying it. I get talked into a wonderful black silk dress. The hem
stopped at the knees with a string fringe to below the calf. It felt
wonderful, but it was a size 22 and way to big for me. I couldn't
afford it anyway; $195.00.
Another dinner and I just couldn't wear the same outfit one more
time. No matter how many scarves and accessories I tried, it was
getting old. So I headed down to the vendor area and put together a
smashing outfit. A blue sleeveless dress with white polka-dots from
one vendor. I found a perfect hat from Rachel's Wigs, a red belt from
Jim (makeover artist), the red shoes from Anne and a bracelet from
Mary Kay.
Met my one and only Jerk. This guy was here on vacation with his
wife and he just didn't understand. He wore a "stupid" grin
and had nothing but fear in his eyes. Like what we were doing would
somehow rub off and change him. He oozed machismo.
Later in the bar, I noticed that every time his wife would
strike-up a conversation with anyone from our group, he would
"reel" her into his arms and hold her like a mother
protecting a baby from the world. It was the saddest behavior I have
ever seen.
1am - sleep.
Day Five - June 12, 1993.
Its Saturday. The day begins as usual; shower, shave, makeup. I'm
off to a session about Balance. even as the session begins I sit and
workout yesterday in my journal.
I've notice water goes through me a little faster...silly
The panel talks about adolescent & gender confusion. I think of
Anony1 from AOL and how these people could help. I must get some
names. They also talk about finding a balance to Cross Dressing and
the public life.
Full time is not for everyone. Left unchecked this could become as
destructive as gambling or drinking. Keep in sight who you are and why
you do this. Make time for this like any other hobby.
Lunch is a fashion show. Amanda is wearing an absolutely stunning
black dress with gold beading.
The big dinner is tonight, and I don't know what I am going to
wear. I have one last outfit from Joan...but no blouse. Just then
Rachel comes along and invites my up to her room to try on a dress
that was too small for her to wear. After an initial goof, the dress
looks and feels great. I ask to borrow it for the night and she says
OK.
I run down and get the shoes to go with it, these black satin pumps
with gold and silver accents. Anne agrees to hold my check for two
weeks so it won't cause and overdraft charge. What a community.
Rachel (wigs) has agreed to work on my hair in exchange for back
rubs previously given. It is another first, my hair in a very feminine
style, and I begin to feel beautiful. She adds a black lace bow with
rhinestones to complete the look.
After meeting and a short prayer session with the ladies of the
Baptist General Conference, I run into Rachel (Houston) and agree to
help her put together a surprise for Amanda. We pick up a few things
at the gift shop and I get another Q&A from a stewardess.
Up in Rachel's room with Amanda, Rachel reads a couple of poems she
has written for the occasion. Tears and emotions swell as the words
speak directly to my heart.
Amanda has been mulling over the purchase of the dress she wore for
the fashion show when Rachel hands her the present. Inside is the
dress. She then looks at me and tells me she really met to buy the
dress I had on for me anyway. Amanda and I begin to cry again and I
know what Anne means by "kindred spirits"
The dinner party was a great success. I looked and felt wonderful.
We all stood for a group picture, the wide shot type. What a group of
people.
I spent the rest of the night trying to make it last. Talking and
joking with Barbara #1, and others until 3:30am. I finally meet Marsha
Jackson from AOL. She came down just to meet me. What a group. Day Six
- June 13, 1993.
Promises of a future meetings. The drive home had only one event. I
took off En Femme and almost burst trying to find a gas station. The
attendant pointed me to the Ladies room and after paying for my gas
she said "have a nice day dear."
I almost killed myself when I saw Joan, slipped on the wet grass
running up to her. I wanted to tell her about the entire week and
re-live it all. We went out to dinner at Bakers Square me still in
dress and I felt the best week of my life coming to a close.
Short of my acceptance of Christ as my savior, this is the best I
have ever felt. It is great to be whole. A new life/journey is ahead
and I look forward to every minute.
Well, Melanie, as I told you last Sunday at the forum, I was going
to "do it" this Saturday. Guess what, despite literally
sweating bullets at the eleventh hour, I DID IT!!!!
Since the Partytime Cafe, as it was called, was held in Boston, and
I live in Maine, I checked into the hotel Friday. I dropped off my wig
at a local beauty shop recommended by the local support group (Tiffany
Club of New England), dropped my blouse and skirt off at the dry
cleaner, and made an appointment with the makeup artist at the beauty
shop to do my makeup for me.
Normally, I do my own makeup, but this was to be a very special
event in my life and I wanted to look perfect (now if that doesn't
sound female, I don't know what does).
Saturday afternoon, I dressed in my tightest blue jeans and a
peasant style denim top. Then, off to the dry cleaner, and then to the
beauty parlor. So far, I was not nervous..... until I got to the
beauty parlor - then I began to sweat...bullets. I kept thinking to
myself, "What if..." Finally, I reminded myself that my time
had come and what I had wanted for the past 30+ years!
I walked in, spoke to the owner, and was directed to a private room
where I could change clothes and get ready for the makeup and my newly
styled wig. The sweat came again, heart quickened, I though, "My
gawd, my wish is finally coming true!"
The makeup artist was really nice, asking me what colors I use and
how, then instructing me on what I should use in the future and what
best fits my features and complexion. It seemed like an eternity, but
only 40 minutes later - Danielle was born! The makeup artist said that
I looked beautiful and that anyone would certainly think I was female
in appearance. When she turned me around to the mirror, tears formed
in my eyes - Danielle was quite an attractive lady, if she says so
herself. The makeup artist took a few pictures of me, some for me,
some for her - she thought the before and after pictures were amazing.
She even asked if she could introduce me to some of her TRULY female
customers - of course, I said yes - my confidence was holding its own.
I drove back to the hotel to pick up a few things and felt quite
confident walking through the lobby to the elevators and back. After
all, I was a woman. One woman about 25 years old in the lobby,
"checked me out" as I walked by and told her husband that I
must "be a call-girl." I smiled to myself and thought,
"Alright! That's exactly what I want to feel like - a desirable
female!" After all, red pumps, pleated red miniskirt, white hose,
red ruffled panties, sheer white blouse and long blonde well-teased
hair sure do get attention! The event was held at a Convention
Center/Hotel about 20 minutes away from where I was staying. I drove a
little slower than normal to get there, just to see how many passing
cars "checked me out" at the stop lights ----- I loved it!
Once at the Convention Center, I met in-person the Tiffany Club
members. I belong to their BBS, but have never met any of them. It was
nice to talk all night about ourselves, each other, exchange
thoughts/ideas about clothing and makeup...just being female. Of
course, when Mother Nature called, I left the table and headed to the
rest rooms. As I pushed open the door to the Men's Room, I realized my
predicament (????), excused myself, and entered the Ladies Room. My
confidence surprised me, no nervousness or sweating as I went about my
business there. In fact, while I was touching up my makeup, a girl in
her early twenties asked who did my hair because it was so beautiful -
I told her the salon's name, and she was grateful. Ah, to be a woman.
When the party ended, I went over to the lounge with some other
members. Several times men came up and asked me for a dance, but I
declined - not quite ready for that...yet. I think I need a little
more walking before I decide to run! I did however enjoy the
attention!
Well, I returned to my hotel. Walked through the lobby, past
security and up to my room. I slept like a baby that night - and I
know that can be taken literally, after all, Danielle was only born
about 8 hours beforehand.
I am so pleased with my first time, that I know it will soon be
"every time." I am on the road to becoming the woman that
somehow nature forgot. For those of you thinking about Coming Out, I
can only say that it was a great moment for me and I intend to make
those moments permanent.
The words sear through softened layers of protective shell burning
hollow my spirit. A simple sentence lay waste an evening of joy. In a
fleeting moment a gender confidant openly perceives me as man. "I
see you as a supportive male"... her words silence my self esteem
wrenching open a lifetime wound. An hour later I lay on a bed bursting
tears from deep within.
It is not said in malice but the voice maintains its echo. My
emotions are fragile and crumble in despair. Years of projected image
designed for societal survival remain etched on the surface. It has
not yet faded enough. Perhaps a year ago I could have disregarded my
feelings...I no longer can.
Joining a gender support group has placed me on a winding path of
discovery and destruction, friendship and pain. It is a delicate link
to renewed hope of fulfillment. It is a place which has allowed me to
uncompress a feminine essence and expose a vulnerable core. It has
left me emotionally defenseless and in need of reassurance.
That night I cried into the phone for an hour. The sympathetic
person on the other end helped patch up my life. She has done it for
me before and will again ... she is my best friend. I first met Sharon
at the group's annual BBQ. We had few opportunities to talk amid the
rumble of the day but we exchanged phone numbers and I hoped to talk
to her soon. That night I met my first encounter with the reality of
open femininity. Feeling unrestricted and emotional, I vented years of
loneliness by falling into a momentary interlude with the wrong
member. By morning I was hurt and alone again. I called Sharon's
number and for the first time in my life found true support and
compassion. We talked for two hours, then again the following night
for four more. Our phone calls have never stopped and we meet almost
daily. She is my link to self- understanding.
Through this friendship I am learning better how to touch my inner
core. I have come to lean on her, her on me ... we support each other
in trouble and triumph.
Through this support group I am meeting a microcosm of the real
world through the eyes of a woman. It is filled with a spectrum of
pain and joy. There is only one constant within, a friendship as deep
as I have ever experienced with one who feels what I feel and sees
beneath the exterior layers.
So many fears have been overcome one tiny step at a time with her
help. The origins of transition commence with release of the mind. I
have someone now with whom I can share this experience in
kaleidoscopic detail. I have someone who shares with me her innermost
thoughts. She is both a guide and a dependent. It is a symbiotic
relationship in a rarefied culture.
I feel fortunate. I feel released. I am slowly becoming Karen and
know I can not accomplish this journey alone. This group has opened a
new pathway of hope, a new honesty. It contains a precious friend who
is helping me bond with others and overcome adversity. I can no longer
imagine how it was a year ago when I was truly alone.
The lights were low in the cavernous hall of Cub Luna as I came in.
I was nervous, I know it's not smart for a woman to go to a bar alone
even in Santa Fe and I was definitely on my guard.
Cub Luna opened a few years ago in a building that was originally
built for a movie theater. They built the bar on one side, the whole
side, it's about a hundred feet long. The place has a reputation for
being packed and smoky, but this night there were maybe fifty people,
it seemed almost empty. The act hadn't started yet and I found a table
near the stage just one row back from the dance floor.
I had heard this guy Tab Benwa was going to play. He had been
interviewed on a local radio station today. He sang some old delta
blues and sounded so good that I had to see the show. Well at least
that was the excuse I used to convince myself that I needed to come
even though all of my girlfriends were ether working or watching
someone's boring home movies of their honeymoon in Samatra.
I ordered a drink from the waitress and sat there listening to the
old blues CD's they were playing. The fact is I've been so lonely as
of late that going to the show alone seemed to make since. Don't get
me wrong I know I have lots of friends that care about me, but after
two years without any close loving body contact, I'm getting
desperate. I was about to ravish the first unsuspecting guy that came
within arms length.
Getting dressed tonight was tougher than usual, I just couldn't
decide. The dress code in Santa Fe is always casual with some really
fancy thrown in just to mix things up. I wanted to look good but not
like the horny sex starved wild woman I am. After trying on every
thing I own and making a huge pile of unsuitable outfits on my bed I
settled on a calf length rayon dress, mostly burgundy but with small
flowers all over. It has short sleeves and it's cut tight on top and
very full and flowing on the bottom. It's a magic dress, some how it
makes me feel pretty even if I'm having my period (an interesting
phenomenon that only a natural woman or any of us who might be on
hormone therapy can relate to). I left one button loose on the top to
give my inadequate but growing cleavage a fighting chance and
unbuttoned five or six from the bottom so my bare legs could show when
I cross them. For earrings I chose these long wide dangling silver
things from Bali and I but on a string of tiny cobalt blue glass
beads. Wonder of wonders I'm having a good hair day! Its blond by the
way, shoulder length and curly. I brushed it out and it looked good,
the first time! Wow!
Now, I'm like the rest of you, I love to wear high heels but I'm
five foot ten and I don't want to be any taller than that, so I put on
my black cloth Chinese maryjanes. They're great for dancing and that
is just what I intend to do. I put on my eye make-up a little heavier
than usual and I even brushed on some translucent powder (something I
never do) and some blush. I feel like I look good, maybe too good,
this is getting scary.
Well, I've been sitting here for about ten minutes before this good
looking white guy with curly black hair comes out on stage. He is
young and too nice looking for a blues singer but as he starts to play
I feel my body start to dance right there in my chair. This guy plays
like BB King. He's up there with a base and a drummer and they are all
really hot. A few people are getting up to dance, mostly women dancing
in a group. Oh, I really want to dance! But even more I want to dance
with a man.
The first song ends and Tab starts into another and I feel a gentle
tap on my shoulder, there standing behind me is a bearded bear of a
man. His words are drowned in the music but I think he wants to dance.
Smiling he takes my hand and leads me on to the dance floor. This bear
is quite handsome but it soon becomes clear that he's so drunk that he
isn't dancing much. He's just kind of wobbling and watching me with
this silly smile. So I begin to dance enough for both of us, I love to
dance, I feel so free and the music is carrying me, I couldn't stop if
I wanted to. The song ends and I thank the bear for the dance but
decline his invitation to another and go back to my table.
Tab starts to sing about a silver moon, and another guy sneaks up
behind me (what's with these guys, shy I guess). He's kind of nurdy
looking but nice and as we start to dance he is really getting into
it. Kind of wild, not at all what I expected. I love it there's so
much room on the floor, I'm spinning and moving all over and he
follows me with a big grin. The song is ending, he leads me off the
floor and back to my table. I'm breathing hard and smiling as I thank
him for the dance. He walks away and before I can catch my breath I
feel another tap on my shoulder. I turn and a very handsome man, maybe
fifties, tall, slim with an artistic look about him ask me to dance. I
can't seem to loose this silly smile on my face, this is fun. The
cologne this man is wearing sort of puts me off, but he takes me by
the hand to the dance floor and I begin to spin it's really a sensual
experience, as my dress catches the air I can feel it swirling up
higher and higher. The cool air blowing around my panties thrills me
as I spin. Oh, don't ever let me stop!
The song ends but we stay for another and another. Finally we sit
down and he asks if he can buy me a drink. He's making for the bar
across the room when this really tall, blond, wild looking man comes
up and asks if I would like to dance, this one is cute, I would love
to dance with him but the other guy has gone off to get me a drink. He
smiles and asks if I think the other guy will beat him up just for one
dance. Oh Goddess, my scruples are always getting in the way of fun.
The man with the drinks comes back and as I sip he leans over and asks
my name. It's so loud he has to get right up to my ear. I like it, but
it's kind of scary. His name is Chuck. He tells me that Sarah was his
mothers name (Oh come on, isn't that about the moldiest line you ever
heard?).
In case you didn't know (as the old song says), "I have a
brand new pair of roller skates" and I was really hoping some
body would take me home tonight and try out his "key". I
know, I sound like a slut to me too. But I was ready, right up to when
he said he had a room in the hotel across the street because his wife
had kicked him out tonight. It seems she thought he had pushed his
four year old daughter down and hurt her. He said it wasn't true, he
hadn't pushed her and he began to tell me how they had been together
ten years. He was getting closer and he put his arm around me, he was
holding my hand and quietly coming on more and more. My body is going
for it (slut), but my little hormone soaked brain says this guy's no
good. As horny as I am I can't do this, I keep thinking about his wife
and little girl and what kind of guy would sit here coming on to me
after telling me all of that.
Some times it's a curse having morals. My body would have a lot
more fun if my mind would just stay out of it. As if from a distance I
hear myself saying thanks for asking but no, not tonight. I should
have known when I first smelled his cologne that I wasn't going to let
this guy take me home. First Impressions are usually the clearest.
It's midnight and I have to work in the morning, I get up to leave
and he walks me to my car. We hug and I kiss him on his cheek and tell
him to go home and apologize to his family. Some how I can tell he
respects me because I didn't go for his proposition. That's nice. But
here I am, driving home alone to another night in that empty bed. What
would I do without my vibrator.
I began my personal journey on July 12, 1993, after
"enduring" 47 years as a man. I can't begin to describe the
feelings of contentment and inner peace of mind I feel at letting
Elizabeth finally come out, and begin to experience the joy and
happiness of her new life.
She has always been here, sometimes scampering out to go shopping
with girlfriends-and at other times living only in my mind's eye but
she was always there-a blonde hair, blue-eyed beauty, who loves deeply
and cannot wait to experience all that life has to offer as a woman.
She laughs and dances and likes to be the life of the party. Like
other women, she is active, hates to exercise and reveals in intimacy.
I have felt her when I was depressed and when I was on top of the
world. She comforted me when I was sad (which was most of the time),
put a smile on my face when she was happy and never once let me down
because she knew she would emerge someday and live the rest of her
life-free.
I am a bright and intelligent woman, and I know better than to
think my journey will be a "walk in the park." There is so
much I do not know about "feeling" like a woman but I will
never forget the pain and agony of being a man. I was frustrated,
quick to anger, disappointed with life in general, and more than
anything else, sad. The sadness was for myself and my inability or
perhaps, unwillingness to choose what was best of me in terms of
personal happiness and satisfaction. You know what they say...
sometimes it is more "comfortable" to stay stuck than to
move on and create one's own personal happiness. I lived that scenario
for too many years.
Many of my former years were spent compiling to the wishes of
others whether they were parents, siblings, or society and its'
bigotry. I did not readily accept their demands-only compiled with
them. I wondered what was wrong with me? Didn't I have a mind of my
own? Oh, most definitely, I did but the feelings I expressed were not
in ways that, how shall we say, won friends and influenced people.
Like so many other transgendered people, I became aware of my
feminine self at a young age. 10-years in my case. It was at that time
in my life when I first discovered the "perfume sanctuary"
of my mother's dressing room. It was also the first time I experienced
scares and confusion I had never felt before. I dressed almost every
day after school when nobody was home. I had plenty of time because my
mother had her usual bridge clubs and social events which kept her
away from home most afternoons. My father worked until 5 and my
brothers, both older, had activities which kept them busy after
school. I had no sisters. It was a blissful and exciting time for me,
and in between feeling scared (that I would be discovered), I loved
wearing her clothes and make-up, and parading around the house. All
that changed on one fateful weekend in August, 1957. But what
transpired then and for years afterwards maybe the subject for another
issue.
While driving home yesterday, I heard a love song playing on the
radio. Suddenly I felt a wave of sadness come over me as I listened to
the words and tears came to my eyes. I couldn't shake the feeling that
I felt a great amount of love for somebody. But whom? It wasn't until
I begun to sing the words that I realized who that person was. The one
who had always been there for me... protected me... stood by me...
nurtured me. He showed me his compassionate and loved me enough to set
me free. And for that, I will always love him.
Actually, the convention won't start until tomorrow, but things are
happening today. Picked up Stephanie (Stephanie2) from the airport
today. It can be very interesting looking for someone when you have no
idea what they look like. I just kept looking at every single male
coming off the plane that could be a crossdresser, until I saw the
auburn-headed person with stubble, dangling earrings, and a
white-and-polka-dot sun hat. We got her luggage and headed home, and
awaited the arrival of the next straggler, Breanne, who showed up just
before I had to leave for work.
Later that evening, my wife and the two of them headed off to my
work, Stephanie Crossdressed, and Breanne did not. Breanne, I may add,
had never been -out yet, having been only a -closet dresser to this
point.
Once I made it home, we stayed up until around 3:00 in the morning,
just chatting, and doing our best, obviously, to save $3.50 an hour in
AOL connect charges.
Day 2 - November 10th, 1993
A whirlwind day, this one. After getting up early in the morning,
we hit the mall to collect some outfits for Breanne (who only had a
formal for the banquet to her name). Needless to say, each and all of
us came back with a bag or two. Breanne, who is known online for her
"Clam Smileys"(example: (:) ) fell in love with a toy in one
store, a clam hand puppet. unknown to her, it was bought. We also, of
course, found plenty around the specialty shop that we would have been
more than happy to have bought - if we had unlimited funds, of course.
Then it was off to the Target cosmetic department to fill Bree's
make-up case.
That evening was the first night of the convention. An informal
dinner was held, and we found ourself, again, chatting through the
hours. We also, once here, caught up with Danita, who was, I should
add, dressed as outrageous as you would expect) and Rhonda. Also,
everyone was able to see and meet some of the -movers of the Tri-Ess
and Holiday En Femme - Virginia Prince, Christine Hochberg,
Kymberleigh Richards, Kathy Helms, and others.
Day 3 - November 11th, 1993
This morning I absolutely panicked, due to a late start, I had to
rush to get my morning shave and make-up done so as to allow myself on
to the train up to Santa Barbara for lunch and shopping. We made it,
and just in time. Thankfully Breanne picked up our registration
badges, else we would have never made it. Breanne chose not to dress
this day, as she didn't have any flats to wear for the event.
Once on our way, we finally met Peggy. I should add, by the way,
that she is a -genetic female (I can't stand terms) who just so
happens to like crossdressers. Also on the way up my wife, Bonnie, and
I talked and took photos for a pair of reporters for the Los Angeles
Times.
After lunch, our little group headed uptown to shop, the opposite
way of the main body. We had fun, though Steph did run into some minor
trouble on her way to the bank. Seems one of the male population
didn't think that Steph's attire was becoming...
On the way back from Santa Barbara, again on the Amtrak, we spotted
a whale in the Pacific Ocean, another first for many of us.
We also hit the vendor room, and Bree found a wig she was happy
with, while Stephanie found a white gown she could not live without,
but did.
In the evening was a dinner, which went well, with only a minor
glitch. This was Breanne's first out, this night. She was a little
nervous, but was doing well. Unfortunately, one thing happened. A
friend of mine from the local chapter of Tri-Ess, Teri Lynn, came over
to chat, and gave what would amount to a newcomers speech, dealing
primarily with the crossdresser, their guilt, and the wife not
accepting. The one bit of information not given was that Breanne had
separated from her wife three days before heading down for the
convention. Her and Peggy went careening off, and we then told Teri
Lynn what had happened, much to her dismay. Eventually, Breanne calmed
down, and we again finished off the night with a rousing session of
conversation, this time until around 3:00 a.m.
Day 4 - November 12th, 1993
Decided to forgo the trip to NBC Studios, the Walk of Fame, and the
Universal City Walk, and rest up. This morning, though, we received a
rap on the door from Danita, telling us that Rachel Ann (another local
friend) had seen us in the paper. We got ahold of a copy (or five)
and, sure enough, on full color, we were on the front of the San
Fernando Valley section of the Times!
Shortly thereafter, we again hit the vendor room. This time, Steph
had to try on the dress. Down there were two sets of reporters, both
for local stations (channel 9 and 13).Bon and I talked with the
reporters, and Steph "vamped" for the cameras in the rush
she was experiencing. Needless to say, the gown was bought, and it was
decided to become the attire for the trip to a local play house for a
Cole Porter review.
While waiting for that trip, disaster again struck, much the same
as before, Teri Lynn came over to smooth things out and apologize, and
Breanne again rushed to her room. We all decided to miss the show and
try to give our sister a helping hand.
After several hours of chatting, two pizzas, and several cokes
later, all was well, and Breanne had discovered the joy of dangling
earrings. Steph had a PowerBook, so we stopped online, and had
received mail from Melanie (Melanie XX) in reply to our own mail
asking to meet her while we were in her town. She had left us her
phone number, and, even though it was late, we called, and decided to
go over just then!
Melanie was a gracious hostess, and we chatted until almost
daybreak. I am glad that Melanie only makes it online during the
gender forum, and not for the occasional "TV Chat" room, for
she has a wit that is at least as sharp as each of ours. We even ended
up having toast, pancakes, and bacon - which lead to an infamous take
off on the voice tape, her new "cooking video", known as
"Makin Bacon with Melanie."
Late that evening was my turn to break up. Those of you that donut
known what Melanie looks like, let me assure you, she is a knockout. I
am on a similar road to hers, though where she has now traveled
several miles down the road of femininity (she is a post-op TS), I
have only recently made my way to the path of transgenderism. I looked
through her "transition book" (a collection of photos of
both Dave and Melanie), and began to reflect upon myself, and just how
long it will be until I get my own transition book to that point. I
cannot thank my wife for her support that night.
Day 5 - November 13th, 1993
Today, once we finally rolled out of bed, missing both the
breakfast and lunch gatherings, and the couples events. We grouped and
began to prepare for the events of the day. Breanne had decided last
evening to sign up for a facial that day, and, once done, she was an
absolute knockout - this also did something else for her - gave her an
incredible dose of confidence.
Also while down in the vendor area, we discovered that the tape
that was shot was "shared," and that it had been distributed
to channel 4, channel 7, and to CNN - which, I may add, alarmed us
all, though Stephanie was especially bothered, as this was not
something she was ready to broadcast so far. She eventually saw the
broadcast, and she, or us, did not appear in it.
We then headed over to the local mall, looking for the studio that
was to do a glamour photo of yours truly and her wife - but they
weren't there! After a phone call or two, we discovered the problem -
we were at the wrong mall! Steph, Peggy, and Breanne stayed behind
while the two of us and Danita headed to the studio several miles away
in a tiny, crowded mall. We made it, and it was truly a wish
fulfilled. You see, my father is a photographer, and I would love to
have him do such a set of photos, but I have not told him, and, if I
did, I doubt he would be happy. Actually posing for the camera that
afternoon was one of the most enjoyable things I did all week, and I
hope that some of the photos are not marred by my tear-filled eyes.
The lateness of all this, though, meant that we arrived late for
the formal banquet. Stephanie was a basket-case, having already
imagined all sorts of horrible consequences to our trip over to the
studio. Bonnie and I made it to our room, tossed on our gowns, and
headed down.
The banquet was fine, though made quite long with speeches, awards,
and the occasional amount of posturing. High point for all of us was
Stephanie accepting an award for her chapter of Tri-Ess, Beta Gamma in
Minnesota (which, I may add, we are still wondering if it is a state :
). After the dinner wound down, we tried to get a room to view a
videotape of the media's coverage of the event, to see if we appeared.
No one could find a VCR, however, so we scratched those plans and went
to bed. Well, some of us, as Breanne was not at all ready to undo that
makeover, and she made a few trips around the block. Day 6 - November
14th, 1993
Well, this is it. After a brunch, where we saw Rhonda in male drab
for the first time (and, I may add, what a change), some good-byes,
and re-packing for the journey out, we headed for our home, including
Breanne, Peggy, Danita, and Stephanie. I think both Stephanie and I
were doing our best not to lose it, though we were fighting fatigue as
well as our emotions, and had a hard time letting go of Bree and Peggy
when they started out together towards their individual homes, and
keeping our emotions in check again as Steph gave out gifts of jewelry
to us all (and thank you Steph for the earrings, they will be the
first I wear after the studs).
Eventually, though, it was time to go to the airport to send Steph
off, and we headed on our way. The trip there was subdued, to say the
least, and we held together well until in the terminal awaiting
boarding. That is when Bonnie and I presented Steph with our gifts -
an origami figure (Bonnie is quite accomplished at that art) and an
earring and necklace set in gold with "diamonds" and
"emeralds," in the shape of a heart. I had seen that set
before con, and had thought about getting it then, but bought it that
day for someone who has the perfect white gown for it.
That was all we could take, and our emotions took us there. If I
could have held her a little tighter, maybe she wouldn't have been
able to board, and we could've taken her back for good. I do know it
has been a long time since I have cried that hard in an airport and
watched that plane take her away.
On the side of the little 737 she boarded was a red heart - a
symbol of love. I wish that all my friends at Holiday En Femme could
have seen it too, because it was my heart too, on its way with Steph,
that is, the parts that already hadn't gone with all the others. It
will take a long time before I can't remember that heart, and all that
it meant for me.
I started "dressing" when I was 11 years old - wearing my
mom's girdles, slips, and dresses. I enjoyed their feel and how I
looked in them, and dreamt of being one of the girls at school. When I
would stay at my cousins' (three girls), they were always
"making" me dress in their clothes, but I always LIKED it
and didn't want to change back into MY clothes. Sometimes, I would
even take some of their clothes home with me, and wear them in bed.
Later as I made money mowing lawns, I bought my own panties and
pantyhose - keeping them hidden in my bed.
Once I entered college and worked at a good paying part-time job, I
found my "female" wardrobe growing - miniskirts, formals,
casual dresses, negligies, panties, bras, garter belts, camisoles,
nylons, slacks, jeans, tees, body & swim suits, etc. I owned more
and sexier clothes than most girls I knew!
Once married, my "female" wardrobe became
"hidden" in my workshop in the basement, where I had access
to them but my wife would never find them. On business trips, late at
night, or when no one else was home, I would go down, select my
outfit, and "dress." It was nice, but I really felt too
rushed and wanted to BE a woman all of the time, not just for a
snapshot in time.
After many years of denying my gender identity and cross-dressing
whenever I had the opportunity, I decided that I must acknowledge my
feelings and do what was "right" - become the woman that I
had been yearning to be for so many long years. My first step was that
I joined the Tiffany Club of New England (Boston, MA). Because I live
in Maine, I accessed the Tiffany Club's BBS for information on the
regional transgender community and to chat with other CD/TV/TSs. There
I found the support that one needs as they make this major transition
from "what was" to "what should have been."
One of the TCNE sysops, Debra Berube, informed me that TCNE was
sponsoring an evening social for the transgender community and that I
was welcome to attend - the date, May 15, 1993, at a suburban
convention center/hotel. I decided to work that date in with a
business trip I had planned that would have me passing through that
area.
I checked into my hotel room Friday night, and laid out my plans
for the following day. I slept very little that night, anxious about
the forthcoming day and my Debutante that evening. After only about 3
hours of REAL sleep, I awoke to find that Saturday had indeed arrived
and my day of reckoning had arrived.
I had room service bring up a light breakfast to my room. Next, I
fixed a nice warm lavender bubble bath and soaked for what seemed like
hours. I then took the opportunity to depilitate the hair from my legs
(all the way up), arms, back, chest and belly. Despite plugging the
drain several times ( I was like Harry the Bigfoot), I relished in the
smooth feeling of my "new" body and the tingley sensations
as I patted myself dry and applied a mist of my fav body spray, L'air
du Temps. Once out of the tub, I put on a little pink lipstick, blush,
dark black mascara, and my brown pageboy style wig. Next, I got
dressed in my sexiest undies, tightest pair of blue jeans, high black
pumps and a peasant style denim top, which accentuated my ample
breasts.
I then strutted to the elevator, through the lobby, and to my car.
I felt a little uncomfortable, but knew that I was doing well so far.
I proceeded to drive to the dry cleaner and the beauty parlor. I
dropped my blouse and skirt off at the dry cleaner and requested the
1-hour service so they would be ready for me to pickup before going to
the beauty shop and wear that evening. Once I left there, I headed to
Payless, where I tried on and purchased a pair of bright red high heel
pumps, which I would wear that evening, and a new handbag.
Next I went to an adult store that caters to the local transgender
community. There I was assisted by a very courteous female clerk in
selecting a padded brief and crinoline, trying each on to ensure fit.
I then returned to the dry cleaner and picked up my blouse and skirt.
As I parked my car in the rear lot of the beauty shop, anxiety and
apprehension hit me. I began to think, "What if...?" and
started to sweat profusely. Composing myself, I just thought,
"The time has come to wake up & smell the coffee. Now go out
there and be the woman you really are." With that, I entered the
rear door of the beauty shop, and proceeded to speak to the owner,
Esther. Esther showed me to a private dressing are of the salon where
I could change into my outfit and then have my makeup done. It was
warm inside the dressing room and, combined with my anxiety, I began
to sweat again - this time bullets. But, like before, I assured myself
that all was going well and that if I continued to sweat my
soon-to-be-applied makeup would run..
A short time later, the cosmetologist entered. She was really nice,
and helped "break the ice" and reduce my anxieties by asking
me what colors I use and how, and then instructing me on what I should
use in the future and what best fits my features and complexion. She
asked who had done the arching of my brows, and I told her that I had
- she said that I had done a very nice job. This put my mind at ease
as well, of course 30+ years of practice certainly helps! As she
prepared my face for the makeup, and then finally applied the makeup,
I could only wonder what I would look like. My heart began pounding,
waiting for the "unveiling" to happen. It seemed like an
eternity, but only 60 minutes later - Danielle was born!
With my back to the mirror, I was unable to see the makeup artist
do her magic, but when she was finished she said that I looked
beautiful and that anyone would certainly think that I was a woman.
She turned me around so that I could see, and my eyes welled up in
tears again - there before me sat a beautiful woman, a woman whose
eyes sparkled and whose lips were supple and full, a woman who could
easily turn the head of any guy. She told me not to cry, that I was
beautiful, and gave me a hug of confidence. I then asked her to take a
picture of me so I could keep it in my diary, and she did.
I thanked the cosmetologist and beauty shop owner for their help,
support, and confidentiality. Then I confidently walked out the FRONT
door, and down two blocks to a newsstand for a paper. When I entered
the newsstand, the men just stared at me. I casually strutted to the
papers, modestly bent down and grabbed one, and walked to the cashier.
I could tell they were looking at my legs and butt, so I leaned over
the counter enough to flash them a little view of my ruffled rhumba-style
panties. As I turned, I smiled at them and said, "Have a nice
day." As I walked back to my car, I noticed people slowing in
their cars and "checking me out." I realized that they
weren't "making" me, they were viewing me as a sexy babe
(---blush---). Chills ran up my spine, how flattering to be treated
this way I thought.
As I drove back to the hotel to get a few things before the party,
I noticed other motorists "checking me out" as I was at stop
lights. Ahh, to be a woman and be wanted. What a feeling. Once back at
my hotel, I confidently walked through the lobby to the elevators and
back. After all, I was a woman. One woman, about 25 years old, in the
lobby, "checked me out" as I walked by and whispered to her
husband that I "must be a call-girl." I just turned around
toward her, smiled, left my tongue wet my lower lip, and proceeded on
my way thinking to myself, "Gee, now I KNOW I'm in the right
gender!"
Once at the Convention Center, I met in-person the Tiffany Club
members. I belong to their BBS, but have never met any of them. It was
nice to meet the faces behind the words, and to talk all night about
ourselves, each other, exchange thoughts/ideas about clothing and
makeup....just being female. Plus, the food and drink were quite good
too, although I did so in moderation to watch my figure "like a
good girl."
Of course, when Mother Nature called, I left the table and headed
to the rest rooms. As I pushed open the door to the Men's Room, I
realized my predicament (????), excused myself, and entered the Ladies
Room. My confidence really surprised me, no nervousness or sweating
this time, as I went about my business there. In fact, while I was
touching up my makeup, a girl in her early twenties asked who did my
hair because it was so beautiful - I told her the salon's name, and
she was grateful. Ah, to be a woman and be able to talk about such
things. Plus, it seemed that I was "passing," even though I
still have trouble controlling my baritone voice.
Throughout the party, I danced with other TCNE members and their
guests, noting the variety of professions and upbringings we all had.
The rapore that we had with one another was really encouraging.
When the party ended at about midnite, I went over to the lounge
with some other members. Several times men came up and asked me for a
dance, but I declined - not quite ready for that...yet. I think I need
a little more "walking" before I decide to "run"!
I did however enjoy the attention, and even met a nice man to converse
and have a drink with. As time progressed, we kissed and cuddled in
our secluded booth near the rear of the room - just playful fun. I
never did tell him that I was a male, but then again HE did not ask
and I did not feel like a male that night!
Well, about 3AM I returned to my hotel, feeling happy, sexy,
confident, and secure. I walked through the lobby, past security and
up to my room. I slipped into my sexiest negligie and slept like a
baby that night - and I know that can be taken literally, after all,
Danielle was only born about 8 hours beforehand!
I am so pleased with my first time, that I know it will soon be
"every time." I am on the road to becoming the woman that
somehow nature forgot. For those of you thinking about Coming Out, I
can only say that it was a great moment for me and I intend to make
those moments more numerous and permanent.
POST-SCRIPT DATED 11/23/93:
Well, its been 6 months since Danielle was "born" and
those six months have posed both challenges as well as rewards. I am
spending most of my time living as the woman that I have always wanted
to be. I was "laid off" from my Fortune 50 corporation
management job of 12 years in June, likely a result of my
"transformation", but I have since founded my own company,
which competes against my former employer - Yes, hell hath no fury
like a woman scorned! I find that I am enjoying life better now, I am
more relaxed, and more "myself." I find my male clothes in
the back of the closet or in boxes in the basement, where my female
attire used to be. I am happy and know that what I have done has made
me a better person - it's made me ME.
I would like to thank all of you who have helped me through this
period in my life: Melanie for your newsletters and AOL Forum, Debra
Berube & Joannie Bartlett (TCNE) for just being there when I
needed you, Kathy for understanding why I am who I am, Tula and
Shannon (my idols) for being themselves and showing once again that
"it" can be done and accepted by all, Diann of AOL for
chatting with me on-line when I needed someone to talk to, and
everyone else who I have related with over the past 6 months...THANKS
ALOT!
I know now that I must continue my journey to womanhood, and make
the transformation complete. Over the next few months I will be
continuing my SRS counseling. Hopefully, all will go well and, in a
short time, I will be "complete." In the meantime, however,
I am enjoying life as a woman-in-transition.
Yes, you guessed it from the title, I have to try to pass as my
male self for the first time in nearly a year and a half! None of you
know the background so I'll fill in the blanks.
I'm working as a legal assistant for a firm in Salt Lake City as a
woman, and have been for the past 17 months. I'm serious about my life
as a woman, to the point of having my breasts augmented nearly 7
months ago. I'm a 34c and quite proud of my figure. I'm waiting for
the "right time" to go all the way and do the surgery thing.
For right now I'm content with my life, and am in no hurry to finish.
I've recently turned 24 and have plenty of time for that later (after
I've saved up the rest of the money).
As my male self I traveled to S. Korea with the Peace Corps and
learned to speak Korean quite well, and used that language skill and
experience on my resume.
Another firm in Salt Lake has a client that is opening an American
business in Seoul. They had heard that I spoke Korean, and are willing
to hire me as a translator/legal advisor for two to three months while
they are getting things set up.
To make a long story short, my passport is as a male, and the
people that are going to hire me know me only as a woman. Here's where
the conflict arises.
I had known that this might come up, and had been doing some asking
around on line, and reading some of the downloads concerning legal
identity changes. I didn't really think that it would go this far, but
here I am with a South Korean visa in one hand and a plane ticket in
the other.
I'm really puzzled as to how I'm going to get through
customs/immigration, but I have a plan.
I had to submit a photograph of me along with my visa application,
and did myself up as a man quite well. The photos matched close
enough, and I only had to practice my male signature a few times to
get it right.
However, a photograph passing, and a living breathing (and
potentially nervous) person passing are two TOTALLY different things.
I've been practicing in preparation for the big day, and have a few
tips on "reverse passing" as I'll call it.
First, anatomically there is the problem of the "units"
attached to my chest. That shouldn't be too much of a problem, I just
buy a very tight jog-bra and wear a really loose sweatshirt on the
plane (corporate types don't care what you wear on a 14 hour flight).
Second, hair can be pulled into a tail and worn in a hat. Shouldn't
be too much of a problem, besides, many men have ponytails these days.
The biggest problem there would be the cut and style difference from
the passport to the "actual head". Again, easily explained.
Third is the removal of all makeup and traces of ANYTHING. One
thing I have been doing is wearing only one earring when "reverse
passing", and then it is a simple gold hoop. If I let my whiskers
grow for about 3 days, I look like an adolescent teenager with a light
beard. With the singular earring the effect is pretty good.
I have been buying wine coolers and beer as a man in the
supermarkets around town to make sure and get ID'ed to see if I can
"reverse pass" effectively. So far, so good. Much to my
amazement. One funny story about buying alcohol.
The first time I went to buy coolers as a man since living as a
woman, I accidentally took my purse in. WHOOPS!!!! I didn't realize
what I had done until I had gotten to the checkstand and had to
actually take out my license. I had it in a Dooney-Burke billfold
(very feminine looking) in my matching purse. I was so nervous I'd be
"read backwards" (this does get a bit confusing) that I
dropped my license on the floor. As I bent down to pick it up, I
thought I saw the check-out boy look down my shirt and see my breasts.
I could have died! I tried to regroup and just handed it to him with a
$20. That's when I looked down and saw my well manicured nails.
Luckily I only wear clear enamel, but no man I know of has nails this
pretty! The checker gave me a quizzical look, but I rationalized that
off as being an old ID. He didn't say anything, but I was so paranoid
I was sure that he knew.
I hurriedly took my change and ID and stuffed them in my purse. I
took the coolers, and BRISKLY walked out to my car. All the way out
the door and to my car, I imagined a hand grabbing me on my shoulder
and asking me to come back into the store for a "little
chat". I got to my car and threw myself inside. My head was
spinning, my heart was pounding, and I was nearly out of breath! I
just sat in my car laughing/crying at myself for being so stupid! I am
usually so methodical and plan things out, but I just got lazy and
didn't think before actually going to the store.
I went home laughing the whole way, sat down in front of the TV and
watched Vertigo while drinking my trophies. I felt pretty good after
about 3 of them.
That story got long really fast. Sorry.
Anyway, here is where it has gotten tricky.
All of the partners in the business have decided to travel
together. This would pose a problem for me if I were to have to pass
as a female to them, and as a male to the customs people. Again, this
has been taken care of with a little schedule juggling.
I suggested in one of the organization meetings, that I travel
ahead a few days, set up short-term accommodations, purchase a
vehicle, and schmooze the Korean partners before their arrival. This
was met with warm welcome, as none of them had ever been there.
So, as far as they're concerned and will ever know, I'm a woman,
and will work with them as one. I'm pretty proud of my little trick,
but still a little nervous. I hope that this goes off smoothly and
have no glitches.
I'm not sure if any of this means anything to any of you (how many
"any's" can you put in one sentence?), but I thought it
might be interesting nonetheless.
Preface On the morning of November 5, 1992, with the stroke of a
pen, the Honorable Virginia Q. Beverly, Circuit Court Judge, Fourth
Judicial Circuit, in and for Duval County, Florida, made Denise Anne
Fell a legal person and with the same stoke made Tom a non-person for
all legal purposes. I am filled with mixed emotions. I am thrilled
that Denise is alive, well and legal, but at the same time Tom died.
This is going to be an account of my last days living in the male
world. It will start on Monday morning, November 9th and
end Sunday night, November 15th.Monday
November 9, 1992.
I awoke as usual this morning. As I prepared to get out of bed,
glanced into the mirror. I had on my purple nightgown. I know that
within a week I can stay in the femme dress. I will not have to put on
the usual pants and shirt to go into work. It is a very exciting time.
I arrived at work at 6:30 and smiled as I entered the snack bar. Next
Monday, Denise will be entering the snack bar. I cashed a check,
signed by Denise Anne. I love it.
I arrived upstairs and started my morning chore of uploading from
system (District) and prepared to download to the main IRS Computer
System. The download was going smoothly, when it dawned on me that
after Wednesday when I have my 3 hour session of electrolysis, there
is no reason as to why Denise cannot start to work on Thursday or
Friday. I played around with this idea for a time and wrote a memo to
the 3 managers that are over me and to the Labor Relations Specialist
that is handling the paperwork for Denise. I told them once I passed
Wednesday and had jumped this little hurdle Denise could report on
Thursday or Friday. I said that it all depended on how I felt that
morning. But the transition would begin no later than November 16th.
We had a meeting across the street concerning employee safety. A
manager was mugged a couple of weeks ago and her pocketbook was
stolen. The mugger broke her finger and hit her hard enough to cause
her to have to get stitches above her eye. It was a very upsetting
experience for the entire Branch.
My day went smoothly. As I was ready to leave, I crossed Monday,
November 9th off my calendar. This was my last Monday in
the male mode. When I arrived home I had a package waiting for me. The
sweaters that I had ordered had arrived. They look nice. I had a long
sleeve pink sweater, a royal blue shell and a royal blue regular
sweater. They all fit. The slacks that I ordered did not fit. I think
that it was the style rather than the size. I sent some more notices
to different companies that I have accounts with about my name change.
This task is almost completed. I hope that by next month I will have
new cards and my bills will be coming to Denise. I spent a relaxing
evening and prepared for my next work day.
Tuesday, November 10, 1992
I woke up this morning with a feeling of total contentment. I do
not remember feeling this good and this relaxed in a very long time. I
have about made up my mind that Full Time will start on Thursday. The
only problem that I can foresee to prevent this from happening is if
my face is too irritated from the electrolysis that I am scheduled for
tomorrow. I am keeping my fingers crossed that this will not happen.
It was a typical day and not much really happened. I guess that I
spent the majority of the day trying to get myself mentally prepared
for the big step.
I talked to Melanie in the early afternoon (Florida Time) and felt
very good after our conversation. I find her a totally remarkable
woman who is always there to help. Her support has been a tremendous
boost for reaching my goal. I spent a relaxing evening watching a
movie when I got a very pleasant surprise. I received a telephone call
from someone that I have wanted to talk to for a very long time. I had
a nice chat with Elaine and I hope that there will be many more in the
years to come. I thought that Elaine had a cute little southern
accent, and I envy that. I could easily take her voice as feminine. I
am still hoping that I will come up with something. I guess I will try
a voice coach and failing that I will try with some voice surgery
after studying other alternatives. The day ended on this pleasant
note. With that I will close and prepare for a full day tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 11, 1992 (Veterans Day)
I awoke this morning at my usual time. I wanted to get some chores
done before leaving the house for a days adventure. I started out with
3 hours of electrolysis. I can honestly say that I can think of far
better ways to start a day. This was a necessity in order to begin my
Real Life Test. After 3 hours of torture, I went to Regency Square
Mall and shipped a couple of packages UPS. I then had an ice cream
treat at Swensons. I felt that after my 3 hours of torture I deserved
an award for being such a good girl. At the appointed time I arrived
at J.C. Penneys. Robbin Briggs, the nail technician, was ready to give
me my first pair of acrylic nails. This took approximately 2 1/2
hours. For the most part it was very enjoyable. We selected a length
that was about average and a white nail polish that had a pink opaque
tint. This was a nice color that would go with anything and yet not
overpowering. This is what I was looking for. I came home and spent
the evening shaving and preparing for what could be a RED LETTER DAY.
Thursday, November 12, 1992
I woke up this morning and listened for the rain that they had
predicted. I did not hear any noise of rain on my skylights. As I got
out of bed, I made the decision that there was no reason to delay any
longer. When I selected my underclothing I put out a bra and panties
instead of a T-shirt and panties. I went into the rest room and washed
my face, brushed my teeth and took off my nightgown. I put on my
undergarments and returned and put on my makeup. I only had one small
part to correct and I chose my dress for my debut as Denise at work. I
wore a royal blue pullover knit dress. Any of you that know me know I
am an amputee so shoes were not an issue unless I put on my
prostheses, which is not likely since they weigh so much. I fixed my
wig and prepared to meet the world.
I made my usual stop at Burger King and got something to drink on
the way into town and arrived at the Federal Building at about 6:20. I
stayed in my van until 6:30. The next couple of minutes had to be the
hardest of my life. I wanted to get back in my van and go home, but
that would have solved nothing. I entered the building where the
security gave me a good morning and that was all. I went to the snack
bar where I usually read the newspaper before work. Again, nobody said
anything. They had been forewarned, but did not really expect me to
come in dressed until Monday. As I sat reading the newspaper and
eating my morning toast, a coworker from another branch came up and
said, "I guess that Denise is appropriate." I said, "I
think so." That was that another coworker said good morning and
that was it.
The true test was going to be going into my branch. This is on the
sixth floor of the Federal Building. I went in and absolutely nobody
said a word. A few people finally came up when I was doing my morning
upload/download and said that they were surprised. They did not think
that I would look this good. People then began to call me Denise,
although a few did slip and call me Tom. I answered them. I guess that
I have to get use to it also.
The only problem that arose was the rest room. I had planned to use
the ladies rest room on the ground floor. One reason it is one of the
only two that are wheelchair accessible and also I only knew of one or
two female employees from the Army Corps Of Engineers worked on the
ground level. Most use came from people coming into the building and
going to Immigration. I soon found out that there were 17 female
employees on the ground floor and they were not happy about this. The
next solution would have been the nurses office. However, since this
is also used by sick people it could not be tied up for long periods.
The final solution was that for a short time I would use the nurses
office and a private rest room on the ground floor would be altered to
accommodate me and that would be a rest room for me to use that would
not upset male nor female employees. Also, since I came out and have
started full time they have no idea if someone else will come forward
now or in the future. If so, then this rest room will also serve to
accommodate them. That made everyone happy, especially yours truly.
Other good news that happened today at work is that I was notified
that my personnel folder had been changed to reflect my new name. The
payroll records have been changed and all my computer logons have been
changed or are in the process of being changed. I am on 3 different
systems, which is 3 separate main frames. This does not include the
PC. All day I expected the hammer to fall, but it did not. It was one
of the best days that I ever spent at work. One that I will always
remember. The day I went to work in a dress.
I found that my nails were too long. They needed to be trimmed. I
called Robbin and made an appointment after work. I guess the biggest
surprise is that I went through the mall and did not get read. I think
one lady was unsure, but there was no laughing or pointing. I don't
expect this to happen all the time, but it was nice for a first time
out. I came home and I was emotionally exhausted. It has been a long
and wonderful day. I can only compare it to the days my two daughters
were born. It is a day that I will treasure always, and I know that
tomorrow morning I will have less of a problem going into work. I can
honestly say that today is the first day of the rest of my life
(female life).
Friday, November 13, 1992
I went into work this morning. It was much easier to enter the
building than it was yesterday. I noticed that for some reason there
are some people that I go out of my way to avoid. I don't know why.
Maybe it is that I have such harsh feelings towards them. I really
know of no reason to do this. Today, I wore a rose color dress that
had a large button on the collar. I received compliments on this
outfit. One coworker make the comment unf***ing believable. I guess
that was a compliment. My manager told me that a few people were
shocked. They never thought that I would go through with the
transition. They figured that it would blow over and that would be
that. Surprise, surprise.
I left early in search of the elusive driver's license. It was a
comedy of errors. First of all they would only take original documents
or certified documents. The only elusive document is the name change.
It is still being processed. The clerk said that if I would produce
the original letter from my doctor he would change the sex on my
driver's license. I said fine and went home to get this letter. By the
time I got back he stated that the office had called again and until
the surgery is complete no gender change on the license. This is a
different story than what I was told earlier. After about 3 hours I
gave it up and went and had my van repaired.
That was fun. The Service Manager was my neighbor at one time. He
had one surprised look on his face when I went in the service
department in a gray skirt and royal blue blouse. In all reality he
handled it very well. I also had the misfortune of breaking a nail
today. I made an appointment and had it repaired after my van was
repaired. I am really beginning to appreciate what women go through
for their entire life. I have had the mood swings, I no longer just
jump up, wash up and get dressed. I now have to decide what to wear.
Make sure that the makeup is on correctly, the hair looks all right
and still get myself to work at the normal time. It does take us girls
a little longer to prepare ourselves.
While at the mall, waiting to get my nail repaired I strolled
around, so to speak, and I don't think anybody paid me any attention.
The only place I know I was read was at the little hot dog stand that
I frequented when I was at the mall. All in all it was another great
day.
At this point in time, Denise is enjoying life to the fullest and
is still mindful that she must be careful to make this a success. My
weekend is planned and I am preparing myself for the upcoming full
week at work. It is going to get cold, so I am going to look for a
pair of dress pants tomorrow. I have a nice pink sweater that would
look very good with some navy slacks. I will see what I can find. I am
ready to go full forward and I am looking up the road to the day that
it will all be accomplished.
Saturday, November 14,
I am not sure how to explain today. I guess that you could compare
it to major surgery. I was once told that the 3rd day was
the worst, well, I woke up this morning and realized that I had to go
out of the house dressed. I procrastinated. I vacuumed, mopped the
kitchen and finally went in and put on makeup and got dressed.
It was not my typical Saturday when I threw on a pair of cutoffs
and a T-shirt. Those days are over. Even after dressing and getting
ready, I put off going out. Finally, I took the plunge. The only thing
I can think of is that during the week when I leave the house it is
dark. I have my ride to work to get ready to face the world. This
morning the sun was out and there were people around. I don't know
what the big deal was. I may never find the answer as to why I was so
reluctant to leave the house. The reason is important, but I went to
the grocery store, filled my van with gas and then went to the mall. I
took one of my wigs in to have it styled. The other I needed to wear.
I had an appointment with the television at 12:30 to watch the Florida
Gators play football. I came home watched my game, this is when the
day began to get interesting.
The first was my neighbor from across the street came over to see
me. Her husband had been over the other night and told her how good he
thought that I looked. She said she was surprised and thought that my
makeup looked very good. Next Elizabeth came over. She is the wife of
a person that played wheelchair basketball with me. She was impressed
and we talked about my attitude of expecting too much from me. She
said I had the wrong idea of what a woman should look like. She said
that she hoped that I would be more than a lady, she hoped that I
would be a woman. We also discussed that women wear casual clothes on
weekends. I had on a camel skirt with a white pullover shirt. This
shirt and a blue pullover shirt are the only male clothing that I
kept.
Just as she was getting ready to leave my next door neighbor came
by. He is the one I thought that I would get a hard time from. The
first thing he said, was can I speak to oh, you're pretty. I don't
think it registered with him at first. He was just letting me know
that he had talked to the post office and I could have a curbside box
put in front of my house if I so desired. I thanked him, but it was
information that I already knew. I like the idea of a locked mailbox,
especially when I am out of town for a weekend.
After the game, I went back up to the mall to get a manicure and it
was the first time that I went shopping for clothes dressed as Denise.
I picked up a couple of pairs of pants. It is supposed to get into the
30's and may be a little too cool for skirts or dresses. I made
another purchase also. I had a few samples of fragrances that my Mary
Kay representative had given me. I was not real crazy about them. I
went and got some SHALIMAR. This has always been a favorite fragrance
for me. I hope it smells as nice on me as it does on the ladies I gave
it to over the years. After my manicure I came home and spent a quiet
evening. I have a big day tomorrow. It will be the first time that
Denise will play basketball.
Sunday, November 15, 1992 Today was going to be a wonderful day,
but I guess it has turned out to be a total BITCH. I went to
Gainesville to day to play some wheelchair basketball. The first as
Denise. I was looking forward to a nice day of exercise and seeing
some old friends. Needless to say I did not play in a wig or makeup,
and I really did not like going back to semi-male for even a few
hours. Sure I put on a bra (a necessity these days) and other feminine
underclothing, but still I missed seeing Denise dressed in the mirror.
It ended up two games. I broke a nail. I was afraid of
