Keeping Secrets

 

Image from the
Jessie Hart Collection

These days as my memory tries to fade in situations I want to remember, I struggle to understand how I ever was able to pursue a life as a novice cross dresser. 

The only thing I do know is somehow I became a very skilled person in hiding my small wardrobe of clothes and when I could wear them. Very early I was able to combine my meager allowance I earned from working around the house with money I earned from delivering newspapers. I was fortunate in that my Grandma lived in town within walking distance of several of the old five and dime stores which sold makeup as well as a small selection of women's clothes. It was scary and exciting when I could visit her, sneak away, go downtown, and try to shop for my own feminine accessories. My memory has not failed me when I remember how terrified and confused I was when I made my own tentative steps to purchase items. First I needed to figure out what I was going to try to buy and then buy it. I was certain the clerk who checked me out would stop and ask me what I was doing with all my selections but of course she never did. 

Another problem I had when I went downtown was my Dad worked nearby the stores I was going to. I certainly did not want to meet up with him with purchases such as lipstick or panty hose. Happily, I never did. Then, once I returned to Grandma's, I needed to hide my treasures from her and begin to figure out how I was going to sneak them into the house past the two most inquisitive members of my family. My slightly younger brother and my Mom. I can't imagine now how I did it but somehow I managed. Slowly but surely I was able to end my reliance with trying to wear my Mom's clothes and use her makeup. Except for using her electric razor to shave my legs. How did I ever get away with that? You would think someone in my family would notice my hairless legs but no one ever did as I was hooked on the electric sensation when I put on panty hose with freshly shaved legs. 

I know one of the ways I found a semblance of privacy to cross dress as a girl came when I had acquired enough clothes in my wardrobe to hide a second small "stash" in an old hallowed out tree in the woods next door to our house. After school, I was able to slip away from my brother before my parents came home from work and visit my "wardrobe" in the woods. The entire process was far from ideal but I was able to feel the sensations of the clothes and it was enough to get me by.

I suppose the whole process of growing up with gender dysphoria taught me how to be a better sneak. Which I was never proud of. I was so sad I needed to keep such an important part of my life so hidden from the rest of the world. It turned out to be the beginning of a gender process which continued as I finally went through the process of transitioning into a transgender woman. Several of my least favorite memories which are still vivid (sadly) are when I tried and failed to sneak around on my second wife. Even though she had bent over backwards to help me as well as she could with my cross dressing, I still had to try to sneak around and do more as a novice transgender woman learning the world. Of course she would find out on occasion and all hell would break out. 

Keeping secrets was certainly no fun and with my straight forward personality, I don't know how I was able to keep up my all male  appearances but I did. Perhaps not remembering all that I went through is just a case of selective gender memory.