Monday, January 20, 2014
Pandora's Box
I have wondered forever, what role does an attractive cross dresser's feminine presentation play in possibly later moving her into a transgender existence? Is it similar to the worn out idea that a majority of heroin users got hooked because of marijuana? Did my first experiments with Mom's hose and underwear get me hooked, or was I just predestined to be who I am today? I believe the answer was a little of both. What caused me to open that Pandora's Box of goodies? By the way, this definition of "the box" comes from Wikipedia:
The phrase "to open Pandora's box" means to perform an action that may seem small or innocent, but that turns out to have severe and far-reaching consequences. Certainly, the definition is correct. Little did I know how severe the gender torment I would feel during my lifetime and it's far reaching consequences. But what made me open the box? My brother didn't and for all I know the greatest majority of male type kids in my school and town didn't. The simple answer is some sort of switch already existed in my noggin and I flipped it to "on".
Even more interesting is the number of "switches" we have ready to be turned on or off. Why was it for me, the occasions I was told I made a better looking girl, was mistaken for one, or was made over to look like one, I felt worse about being a cross dresser a few days later. I believe now, cross dressing never seemed to come closeto explaining my first gender switch. . Hell, I didn't have a "switch", I had a 50 amp circuit breaker!
I flipped the breaker and got a better look into Pandora's Box. I saw all the glittering bling of new wigs, dresses and heels. They were sooooo inviting but sooooo non fulfilling. Finally, after years of torment, I ignored the bling and went for substance and found a book called the My Little Book of Trans. I grabbed it and found there was even an instruction guide, which of course I didn't read first. Who needs "no stinkin instructions?"
As I blissfully thumbed through the book's pages from back to front (I'm dyslexic) I learned my obvious gender disconnect wasn't so obvious to me. I had to readbackward to Chapter One in the "Book of Trans", to make some sense of my life as a trans woman. A cross dresser looks like a woman, a transgender woman socializes herself as a woman and a transsexual acquires the sexual genetalia of a woman. In addition, none of them ever become females and being a genetic female does not guarantee you're a woman.
Of course I spent 50 years fighting the crossdressing in me, five accepting the transgender spirit of my soul and no years obsessing on purchasing a store bought vagina.
At this point in my life, I have to blame my slow learning on someone, so I'm blaming it on Pandora! I've been known to be nothing if not persistent. Seems as if I kept bugging our girl with the box just long enough, she got up off the "good stuff" and threw the book at me!
By the way, "My Little Book of Trans" exists only in my fertile "itty bitty" mind.
The phrase "to open Pandora's box" means to perform an action that may seem small or innocent, but that turns out to have severe and far-reaching consequences. Certainly, the definition is correct. Little did I know how severe the gender torment I would feel during my lifetime and it's far reaching consequences. But what made me open the box? My brother didn't and for all I know the greatest majority of male type kids in my school and town didn't. The simple answer is some sort of switch already existed in my noggin and I flipped it to "on".
Even more interesting is the number of "switches" we have ready to be turned on or off. Why was it for me, the occasions I was told I made a better looking girl, was mistaken for one, or was made over to look like one, I felt worse about being a cross dresser a few days later. I believe now, cross dressing never seemed to come closeto explaining my first gender switch. . Hell, I didn't have a "switch", I had a 50 amp circuit breaker!
I flipped the breaker and got a better look into Pandora's Box. I saw all the glittering bling of new wigs, dresses and heels. They were sooooo inviting but sooooo non fulfilling. Finally, after years of torment, I ignored the bling and went for substance and found a book called the My Little Book of Trans. I grabbed it and found there was even an instruction guide, which of course I didn't read first. Who needs "no stinkin instructions?"
As I blissfully thumbed through the book's pages from back to front (I'm dyslexic) I learned my obvious gender disconnect wasn't so obvious to me. I had to readbackward to Chapter One in the "Book of Trans", to make some sense of my life as a trans woman. A cross dresser looks like a woman, a transgender woman socializes herself as a woman and a transsexual acquires the sexual genetalia of a woman. In addition, none of them ever become females and being a genetic female does not guarantee you're a woman.
Of course I spent 50 years fighting the crossdressing in me, five accepting the transgender spirit of my soul and no years obsessing on purchasing a store bought vagina.
At this point in my life, I have to blame my slow learning on someone, so I'm blaming it on Pandora! I've been known to be nothing if not persistent. Seems as if I kept bugging our girl with the box just long enough, she got up off the "good stuff" and threw the book at me!
By the way, "My Little Book of Trans" exists only in my fertile "itty bitty" mind.
