Before I get too far into this post, no I am not talking about my hair roots! I'm writing about my very dark years in the cross dressing closet and realizations how the past has effected my present. First of all, I'm always surprised when peeps think I have magically arrived at this point in my life without a tremendous amount of stress and tension. Very simply, I almost didn't live through it. Connie said it best- we are survivors. In most all transgender cases (to quote a movie line and twist it) "it's not the years-it's the mileage too."
Recently, I have been revisiting my past by reliving it through others. On one side, there is Gena I'm chatting with. She is in her 60's deeply closeted except for a semi understanding spouse and beginning to think she is trans. Then there is Maria with her Cross Dresser's Wife blog. And, finally last night there was Kadijah who by accident ended up sitting beside me at a Creative Society of Cincinnati meeting.
All of these dots connect. All take me back to my roots. Gena is self explanatory. We share the same age and probably if not for certain extenuating circumstances she could be in a similar situation as I am. Maria on the other hand most likely shares much of the same problems/opportunities which my wives have had from loving a cross dresser or transgender woman. (And more I will mention in another post.) And then there is Kadijah who was a "civilian" until last night. At these meetings, Liz primarily networks her beadwork, knitting etc. and I use them to "hawk" my book Stilettos on Thin Ice. Of course, as I do, I automatically out myself as I did with her when she asked what my book is all about. Anymore my simple answer is my sometimes painful story of living a lie as a cross dresser until I came out and transitioned as transgender. It turned out Kadijah was a 30 something very talented artist from here in Cincinnati and we ended up having a fascinating conversation which went way past being trans.
Never a dull moment! Thank goodness!