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| Image from Yumu on UnSplash. |
Perhaps many of you went through the same misgivings about our male to female transitions as I did.
First, I felt it was a simple fetish with the new feminine
clothes I was trying to wear. Then, when I outgrew the fetish idea along with
mom’s clothes, I needed to try to determine exactly what was going on with me
and my gender issues. With no help, and stuck in a very dark closet, I felt
alone with no one to talk to. Thank goodness for the “Transvestia” publication
by Virginia Prince coming into my life by pure accident which gave me hope for
the future. There were others like me who wanted to look like women and have
mixers with each other. If only I could make it to one, maybe some of my gender
questions could be answered. While entertaining, the mixers I discovered which
were close enough for me to attend, did not really answer many of my deep-seated
questions. Such as why I was wearing women’s clothes as much as possible. Was I
addicted to the clothes or was something else going on.
It did turn out that something much deeper with me was going
on. It took me years to figure out the truth. Something much deeper was going
on with me and my deeply held gender issues which should not have been problems
at all, if I had faced up to them. I was not addicted to looking like a woman, the
fact was, I wanted to find my own version of being a woman.
Then the real search for my identity began, as I finally had
the courage to open my closet door and go out. In the beginning, ever so
briefly until I built up my confidence as a novice transgender woman.
Ironically, back then, the term transgender had not been widely used. There
were only transvestites (or cross dressers) and transsexuals who wanted to have
major surgeries called sex changes. Through this period of my life, I had the
uneasy feeling I did not really fit into the transvestite or transsexual mold.
I was different and still confused. All the diverse parties I attended were not
helping me decide where I really fit.
Still, I kept trying to find my way, and I kept meeting more
and more people on the gender spectrum at the parties I went to. From cross
dresser admirers to impossibly feminine transsexuals, to the occasional
lesbian, I was able to broaden my knowledge of the gender world as I knew it
and further research where I belonged. By meeting all of them, I was able to
determine where I wanted to be in the world as a transfeminine person and go
from there. Plus, I did know, once and for all, the simple act of looking like
a woman was not an addiction for me. It was a deep issue which sooner or later
in my life I would have to face.
At that time, my progress was slow but steady as I made a far-ranging
group of acquaintances in the gender community I was visiting. On one side, I
was dealing with Ed, a part-time closeted cross dresser who had a crush on
Michelle. A beautiful transsexual woman we both knew. I was stuck in the middle
of that strange relationship. Trying my best to be understanding. All I knew
was, the interactions I was having were not helping me with my issues which
once again I was internalizing. The same thing I perfected in my male life
which was so bad for me. I finally came to the point where I realized I needed
to be my own person as a transfeminine person. I knew for sure; I had the dream
of someday living fulltime as a woman. I just had no idea of how I was going to
get there. I set out to discover answers to the many questions I had.
Such as, I knew I was not a cross dresser or transsexual. I
was transgender looking for my path. Was I gay? What was my sexuality going to
be under the gender affirming hormones I was seriously considering taking. It
took me many years of searching before I finally received some long-awaited
answers. And would I ever have the courage to face who I really was.
I was fortunate as I always mention that a small group of
lesbians took me in and pushed me along my transition path. My sexuality did
not have to change and that was one big question out of the way. My validation
came from other women, not men and that was a fact.
Once I fully escaped my gender closet, I could look around
with confidence and know my new transgender life was not built on addiction
that I tried to solve, but on the facts, I refused to accept. I was never meant
to be a man, and I was living a lie. The problem was I became good at the lie,
and it was difficult to give up. Finally, I did learn through all my searching what
the difference was between addiction and lie. Not a fact.
