My earliest memories were of a confussion between Gender. I was 5 years old the oldest and had two younger sisters, in the kitchen helping mom make cinnamon roles. One of my sisters would start of saying this is for girls not for boys. This usually started a fight were I would get sent to my room. I don't blame my mother now, this was the early 1970's. Doctors then believed it was all about nurturing. In fact is was believed that so much that my mother told my father to take me out hunting. Funny thing was that another girl was along for the hunt too!. Not my sister but my Aunt that is a year younger than me.
When I was younger I was fighter on this issue. I would stand toe to toe with my mother or my sister saying but I am a girl. My sister broke my nose once in one of these fights. Eventually out of fear or something else I kept these feelings to myself.
In third grade I learned about U. S. History. I thought that because all the great men in history had been in the military maybe someday that would be the cure for me. I would try to hide my feelings. In the back of my moms magazines were ads for pills to grow breast. I thought that's what I need! If I could grow breasts then they would have to believe me that I am a girl. I got a dress out of a box of halloween costumes that my mom had. I dress in the middle of the night. Mostly in my room but sometimes I would venture out in the back yard.
When I was 14 I got a job it was nice having money so that I could by wigs, bras, dressess and makeup. I got my own PO box. My uncle accussed me of having a PO box so that I could get playboy magazines. I knew I couldn't tell him the truth.
I was 17 I thought my mother went to work and I was home from school pretending to be sick. I was sitting in the front room watching the Donahue show. In walks my mother. My heart started pounding. I knew I was dead or going to be beaten so bad that I had wished I was dead. My mother sat down next and said, you are just curious right please tell me that this is just curiosity, because if not then I must of done something wrong.
At 18 I purged all of my stuff. I took boxes and loaded them into the family jeep and drove to the sand dunes and had a big bon fire. I was going into the military and knew no matter how I boxed up my dresses and such they would be discovered.
I hid my desires all through my first marriage. I had a son when I was 20. I tried to do has society expected. Slowly I started getting things. In the Air Force on a cold day my Sargent said you know what works best on these sub zero days. I said no. He then told me that wearing panyhose under your uniform would help keep you warm. I never told him that the next day I was wearing pantyhose but it sure felt nice. But here was the start of collecting clothes so that I could secertly dress. When we would move I would get rid of everything afaird that I would be caught. I would start out saying this is it. I am going to push these feelings aside. I have to be good.
This marriage ended when my son was about 10. Sometimes I wondered if keeping all these secerts about dressing and feeling that I should be a woman were part of the cause for the end of the marriage.
I met my next wife shortly after that. Our first date the subject came up. She mentioned that she had a neighbor that dressed in womens clothing. I asked what was wrong with that. She was like an interrogator. When was the first time I dressed? Did I ever get caught? Did I ever feel like I should of been born a girl? Did I ever think that I would want to have a sex change? I said everyday of my life. She then asked do you ever think you will? I said I don't know. If I knew I could pass I would do it in heart beat. But at this time my son is 10 I am so tall I don't think I could. But I don't know if I can always keep these feelings hidden.
I thought for sure that this would probabl be the last time I saw her. But she called me the next day. After we had been dating for a few days. We were driving and another moment came when she said that her brother was mentally ill and that she didn't need any more psychotic people in her life. I said oh..... I guess that means we can't be friends? She asked why and I said well I am discharged from the Air Force with a mental dissability. She said that she felt bad that she opened her mouth without thinking and said it didn't mean me.
I thought that because she didn't dump me after bearing my soul about my deepest secert I thought this meant that she would be supportive. A short while after we moved in together I was dressing while she and the children were at work. I wasn't comfortable with her seeing me dressed at this time but I thought since our talk we that maybe she would be a bit more understanding. I left my clothes out on the bed so that I could wash them but changed back to male mode just before she came home. She accused me of cheating on her. I said no remember our talk. and what did she leave her naked? She said that maybe she didn't realize how bad it was. She came up with an idea of buying me silk underwear and silk hawaiian shirts. She quit her job to make sure that I didn't dress any more.
One day she told me shocking story of this woman who use to be her boss. Her boss made the mistake of crossing her. So my ex decided to do some digging into her past. She found out her boss use to be a man. My ex said she took this information to the Las Vegas Review journal and that it was front page news for 10 days. She also went on the Sally Jessy Rapheal show. I saw the video tape of this episode so I could only assume that this story was true. I am not sure why she said this. Maybe it was to put a fear into me. This woman lost everything. She lost her business, her home her husband, everything. Maybe this was my spouses way of saying don't cross me.
After the children moved out I was home alone on New years eve. I had reached a breaking point. I went to the gun cabient and felt that the best thing I could do was to kill myself. I felt that this would end my suffering and they would avoid the embarrassement of me coming out. Somewhere just before I load a gun I came to my sense said wait this isn't right. I went to the internet and typed a search "I feel like a woman and I want to die" My search lead me to site similar to this one where I could chat. I guess it was a small site and some of the normal people in the room recognized that I was not a normal visitor. So they asked what brought me to this site. I cried as I typed in that moments ago I was going through the gun cabient looking for the gun with the easiest trigger pull.
Before this moment I felt all alone in the world. I had felt that there wasn't another person in the world who felt like I did. They reassured me that there were a lot of people here in the world that felt like I did. They talked me down. They found a therapist in my area and a support group. They made me promise that I would talk to these people close to me. They even said that maybe for the time being I should lock up the guns and give the key to my therapist.
After a few months my therapist said that I was transgender and more specific that I was a transsexual. I had her explain what the difference was because before this I had no clue. My therapist said that there is no way to change the brain and so we have to find ways to live with this. She explained that Hormone therapy would be my next best step.
I decided it was time to talk my spouse about all of this again. I was afaird that it wouldn't go very well. I was right. My spouse started on this why are doing this to me. I hate you! She yelled at me all day. I tried to explain this the right way. I am not sure that there is a right way. Our relationship changed so much that day. She called my friends and her friends and the children and all her relatives. She said you won't believe the most horrible thing is happening. Everyone thought that maybe I was dieing of cancer. She wouldn't tell any of them what is going on just that it was horrible. I came out in April and by January I was not making any headway. It seemed like every day she was hating me just a little bit more. I had not started hormones yet. I didn't dress in front of. I tried to make a couple of support group meetings but it caused even more yelling and fighting. I was in the closet making no headway on transition. I wasn't making any headway on understanding. Just before November her anger became so great she spent a couple minutes hitting me with her fists. In January I said I have had enough and I want a divorce. She begged me to give her a year so that she could get some schooling and if she could use my GI bill.
She used my GI bill and went to school. The fights were still there but at least I had a break while she was at school. I promised my therapist that I would not take another beating. She was shocked that stayed after that one. The argument seemed to become more vicious. In June I decided that it was time to start Hormone therapy. I made the choice that I was going to move forward with me because I was not getting any support it seemed to be getting worse. I would go group support meetings I paid a price for it. The fights were horrible but. I thought often of dieing. I wasn't sure how much of this I could take.
In December there was a bad wind storm and after clearing some trees she started in yelling at me it was about 10:30 in the morning. By 3pm I had enough and I said I wanted to go for a walk. She wouldn't let me out. She became so enraged I was scared. She started saying that she was going to f*&%ing kill me. She knocked me down on the bed and jumped on top of me saying she was going to **** kill me. The hormones had taken effect I didn't have the strength to fight her and felt that I had only one chance to get her off of me. I managed to slip away and called the sheriff.
Our divorce was messy. lots happened there but maybe that is another post. It has been just over two years since our divorce was finalized. I was just begining to think that maybe I was safe. That maybe she had moved on. I am afaird to post much here as I don't feel safe. In fact sometimes I feel scared that I have said too much. Maybe some day I will feel that I can post more. All I will say is that it appear to me that my ex enjoys having other people call me names and curse at me. Some day I hope that I she will move on. Some day I hope that she won't feel like she has to run around and talk bad about me. Someday I hope that I will be able to go place and see that she has followers calling me name and telling me to burn in hell. Someday I hope that I will feel safe.