Pandora’s Box

Interlude V: Pandora’s Box

Thursday, December 4th, 2008

Okay, I knew how to end this foolishness.

Unlike when I was a teen, there was something now called “the internet” where I could look up information and figure things out. After all—I held a Master’s Degree—I was supposedly smart.

Also, the internet was where I found my cheap wig, ugly shoes, and a waist cincher from a place called Glamor Boutique.

In any case, I discovered terms like crossdresser, transgender, and more.  I also discovered there were people who specialized in transformation makeup, where they could make a guy up to look like a girl.  One was up the road in Bethlehem, PA.  Another was on Long Island, New York.

So—the plan.  I knew how bad I looked on Halloween.  Downright ugly.  My friend Dawn was a competent makeup artist, but I wanted to try a specialist.  When even they couldn’t make me look feminine, that could be the end of it.  End of story.  Solved.  QED.

But… which to use?  I knew nothing about either of them, except for the reviews on their websites.

One was in Bethlehem, PA, about an hour away.  Hmm.  Still close.  I might stumble upon someone I knew.  Long Island?  Two and a half hours away.  No chance of “chance” encounters.

Besides—the owner in New York was female. I wasn’t sure about the owner of True Colors.  I didn’t feel comfortable being all “girled up” in front of a guy.  Not yet anyway.

So I sent an email to Femme Fever.  Eventually all was set.  I paid in advance.  I told my wife that I was going up to Penn State main campus for the day—meetings.  Plausible, as I worked part-time as an instructional designer at the Great Valley branch campus.

Still, I hated lying to her.  I really did.

The trip took forever, but I was only fifteen minutes late.  Karen let me in, and we sat down to discuss what I wanted.  But first, she gave me a bra that had pockets for breast forms, a pair of forms (looked like chicken cutlets), and told me to put them on.  She left the room, and I did as she asked.

She returned and told me she did that, to quote, “put me at ease.” Got it.  She was right.

We sorted out outfits, hair color, that sort of thing.  The first outfit was a baggy orange sweater dress (yes, seriously) and a copper-colored wig.

After being dressed in the dress, hose, and shoes, she seated me on a barber’s chair in a room with a wall full of mirrors.  I told her that I wanted to be surprised, so please turn me away from the mirrors.  Karen did the makeup for about an hour and asked what name I was using. I told her Lisa but said it was not set in stone.  What would she suggest?

As the makeup was finished, she stepped back and looked at me. She looked at me and said, “I have a strong feeling your name is Sophie.”

She then turned the chair around, so I faced the mirror and said, “Say hello to Sophie!”

I couldn’t believe it!  I couldn’t believe that the person in the mirror was me!  I didn’t see myself at all.  I actually looked passably female.  Or so I thought.

Also, I usually don’t ignore strong feelings, so I kept the name.  In addition, Sophie is Greek for wisdom, and I can use all the wisdom I can get.

That woman in the mirror simply could not be me.  There was no way…

She took pictures of me in that outfit and a few others.  I ended up buying the pocket bra and the wig.

I was in deep trouble.

Saturday, December 20th, 2008

I needed help.  In addition to the other terms and shopping, I found a support group that met in nearby Malvern called Renaissance.

I told my wife I was going to play D&D (another lie, damn it).  I stopped in Valley Forge Park, tried to put on the waist cincher… which broke.  I decided to find the place and change there.  I pulled into the parking lot of an office park that looked rather empty.  Did I have the right address?  Then I saw someone walking toward the correct door. She wore a black, Goth-looking long dress and had very long, straight gray hair.  I asked her if this was the right place for Renaissance.

She confirmed it was—in fact, she was the president.  Her name was Rebecca, and she became a dear friend and mentor.

I arrived dressed in normal street clothes, and changed on site, scared as can be.  I didn't bring any makeup.  Well that’s really because I don't have any yet but that’s a minor detail.  In any case, I wore a new white top and black skirt I recently bought, as well as the red wig from Femme Fever.

I looked like shit.  But the girls made me feel right at home.  Some could easily pass.  Others like me, well... In any case, they were very open and welcoming.  I felt I was among friends.  In fact, I met many people who would become friends and mentors that night.  And as a bonus, Renaissance was having a Christmas dinner at nearby Shangri-La, an Asian restaurant.  That was—gulp—NEXT DOOR TO THE BOOKSTORE WHERE I WORKED.

I went anyway, as one of the girls spotted me the money to go.  I was pretty broke.

I was terrified the whole night.  What if someone I knew saw me?  Or my car?

Turns out that Shangri-La has a TG night the third weekend of every month called Angela’s Laptop Lounge.  The DJ, Angela, was one of the founders of Renaissance, and was editor of a transgender news website called Transgender Forum.  Anyway, it was really crowded!  I didn’t know there were so many people… like me.  I felt myself easing into the role of Sophie. Or was it just the drinks?  Does it matter?  I was dressed and having a ball!

I spoke with two girls (one of whom became a dear friend) and mentioned this was my first night “out.”  They looked at each other and said “Pandora’s box is open!”

They were absolutely right.

I stayed several hours, but eventually had to go.  I changed in the car then drove home.

While at Renaissance, I also got some recommendations on local gender specialists.  Maybe they could cure me?

Please?

I didn’t want to be a… freak.

Inspirations: Victoria Datta

 I was challenged to write something positive, so I thought it was past time to honor another one of the people who inspire me everyday.  

I met Victoria that first night out as Sophie, when I went to a Renaissance meeting and to Angela's Laptop Lounge afterward.  She was (and still is) elegant beyond compare: exotic and aloof.  Also, I learned by asking someone that she was dating one of the Movers and Shakers in the Philadelphia transgender scene- the person who ran the Yahoo group that everyone used for events.  As I don't have permission to name that person, I'll assign her the pseudonym: W.  Victoria was "W's girl" which meant "stay away from her."  I always thought that was a lonely circumstance.  

Victoria

The first few times I saw Victoria, I thought she wasn't trans.  Then I wondered if she was one of the "pros" who would come out of the city to get some "business" from the admirers, but ended up dating W.  I admit: I was intimidated by her beauty, poise, and class.  I could never look that good.

Eventually, W introduced me to Victoria, and I did my best not to be dumbstruck.  Not long after, the local trans community was abuzz- W and Victoria had broken up!  I assume many people started hitting on her directly after, but I never saw her dating anyone.  

Around that same time, my therapist invited me to join a support group, then named "Trans Sans Sition."  Members of this group would become some of my dearest friends.  Victoria was there (in addition to Amy, and Jen L) and always had wise input.  She seemed so very approachable.  Eventually, she suggested the group change its name to Transquility, and so it remains to this day (however it is now virtual.)

Amy and Victoria Keystone 2015

During this time I really learned what an amazing person Victoria is.  Her strength and determination are awe inspiring.  She transitioned on the job at a major company, and was instrumental in writing policies for them concerning transgender employees.  Victoria also presents on that topic at various transgender conferences.  Soon after I came out, I was honored to co-present on the topic, as my company was smaller.  

Through it all, Victoria has been a model of grace, beauty, strength, generosity, and compassion.  I was honored to be invited to her Confirmation Party in May 2014 (which I wrote about here.)  She is a major music lover, including being a mega George Michael fan.  She spoke at my "coming out party" in 2015, and I did my best not to cry (I failed.)  

Debutante Party 2015

I could write so much more about this amazing woman, but I'm sure she'll blush enough at what little I have revealed.  She is a fairly private person.   All that said, the world is so much richer because she's in it, and she has been a guiding light and dear friend for years.

And her beauty still intimidates me,

Thank you for being you, Victoria!  I love you!

  

For Rebecca

Friday afternoon, March 27, 2020.  I'm at MIL's house where I was watching my daughter (MIL called a truce so I could do this, but still insisted on dead naming me the whole time, but that's another story.) MIL went to bring Wife home from the hospital.  The surgery went well.  I decided to check facialbook for the first time since early that morning.

That's when I learned that my dear friend and mentor Rebecca Lohr died the night before.  She'd been fighting leukemia for a while.  One of her last facialbook posts also mentioned pneumonia.

Rebecca with a piece of the original Death Star (from her page)

Sometimes, you don't know exactly when you met someone, but with Rebecca, I know exactly when: December 21, 2008.  That was the night of my first Renaissance meeting.  As I pulled into the parking lot, scared out of my mind, I saw a woman walking toward a door.  I opened the car window and called out to her "Excuse me- I'm looking for Renaissance?" She turned and said "You're in the right place.  Welcome!"  I learned that she was the President, or Group leader, or whatever the title was at the time.  I walked in, carrying my girl clothes- no makeup- and my journey began.

After I'd changed and put on my wig, I went to the meeting area, where Rebecca saw me and smiled her Cheshire cat smile.  I remember saying "I must be crazy" to which she replied “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.  You must be or you wouldn’t have come here.”  I laughed.  She knew her Carroll.

Over time, I found Rebecca to be a very complex person.  In so many ways she was a joyful mix of contradictions, yet they all made sense.  That was just Rebecca.  She seemed to be a bit of a loner, yet sought company.  In her, I saw the Awful loneliness of genius.  There were few who really understood the entirety of who she was.  It took me years, yet eventually, I got it.  She was a goth girl, yet wasn't.  Wiccan, yes, but solitary.  Fan girl, but not obsessed.  Mostly.

I'm glad I had those years.

If there was a TG event around Philly, Rebecca was there.  Renaissance, Angela's Laptop Lounge, Monday Night T-Girls, Raven Parties, Keystone Conference... she was there to lend support.  Or maybe she just wanted company.  Hard to know with her.

Henri David Ball, Halloween 2009

In many ways, her fandoms defined her.  She was a sci-fi fan extraordinaire.  You want to talk Dr. Who?  She knew all about it.  Obscure novel?  Read it.  Trek?  Absolutely.  Steampunk?  Here's the pictures.  Ren fair?  Let's go!

Her biggest, most enduring love was Star Wars.  I'm a HUGE Star Wars fan, and I like to think my knowledge is encyclopedic, but next to her, I was an amateur.  Her Star Wars knowledge and collection was unparalleled.  She had binders full of autographed photos of everyone involved- major or minor- in front of or behind the camera.  She'd met Carrie Fisher so many times that they were on a first name basis.  She regaled me with tales of drinking with Jeremy Bulloch (the original Boba Fett.)  Of, ahem, enjoying other substances with other actors.

With Carrie Fisher, from Rebecca's FB page

That was another thing that defined her in a way: she loved her drugs.  She was extremely fond of weed, and often was dreamy eyed because of it, then suddenly have that mischievous look to eye that she knew something you didn't.  She told me of tripping and all kinds of adventures, yet respected that I never did those things, as I have enough issues with just drinking, thank you.  I never judged her, and she never judged me.  I think that's one of other defining traits.  As the Poet once wrote "She knows too much to argue or to judge."  She never judged people.  She just let it all roll.

We shared a sense of humor

She also had her music.  She loved making music.  She was in many bands, but Radium Angels stands out.  Yet again, her music couldn't be defined or pinned down- she fluidly moved between styles.  They released their music as well.

She wrote and published books.  She's been shot at... She... wow, what didn't she do?

She didn't sign it though.

How I'll remember her most though, is that she was a regular at the book store where I used to work.  She would come in two or three times a week, just to hang out.  We'd talk, especially when I was stuck in the music section, which was usually slow.  Prior to my transition, my speaking to her (as well as a couple other transgender women) raised eyebrows.  I smiled and said "they're friends."  After my transition, Rebecca became a mama bear at the store- no one was going to mess with me while she was around.  On a few occasions, she took someone to task about misgendering or otherwise "othering" me, including, once, a manager.  Often, Rebecca would wear her Tardis dress and carry her R2D2 handbag, just to watch people's reactions.  And we even had a little code for when I was being "watched" by management, or if I was really to busy to talk.  It was her idea.

Since leaving the store, I didn't see her as much.  We'd chat through Facialbook.  She couldn't attend my "farewell gathering" as she was sick, but she sent encouragement.  The last messages were so full of hope.

The last messages

On my way back to State College, I looked up through the Twilight and looking down at me, a Cheshire Moon smiled.  I pulled over as the tears began, yet I felt at peace, because I could just see Rebecca smiling at me from above.  She was happy- No more Pain.  As I watched, the moon was slightly obscured by a dreamy wisp of cirrus cloud, and I thought... how appropriate.

Sleep well Rebecca.  The Force will be with you.

Always.

Walking in a Graveyard on a Rainy Late December Day

I did this via speech to text, and did a light grammar/spelling edit, so this is unfiltered Sophie sh*t.

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 I'm walking in the graveyard behind the Valley Forge Chapel. I come here often for the quiet; for the solitude, and to say prayers over those who stones are old and so probably don't get Prayers anymore.

It's been a difficult few days.  I'm almost out of my unemployment benefits, and things may go downhill fast.  Even Linda, my roomie and bestie sees the handwriting on the wall, because if I can't afford to live there, that will put her out as well, and that hurts me more than words.

Yesterday, Linda drove me to Limerick to pick up my car, which was getting some service due to a recall.  We drove through the town I grew up in- Spring City, and also through Royersford (which is the same town really just across the river.)

It was sunset into dusk when we passed through.  I couldn't help but think about all I've seen since I left Spring City those many years ago; about the people I've met, the places I've seen, things I've done- the changes in my life. I thought about those I knew who never left this area-who settled here after high school (assuming they finished.)

Spring City (via Google maps.)  The circle is where I grew up.

I can think of few worse fates than to be stuck in Spring City.  Somehow, I managed to avoid that fate, but now, as my life closes in on me, I think about how many of these people are doing so much better in their life than I ever have or ever will.  They have families- they have places to go; they are happy, maybe, not knowing what's out there.  What's the old saying?  Ignorance is bliss.

Walking here always lends me perspective. You can buy your lots long in advance here if you wish, so you would know exactly where your body will rot. and where it will lay in perpetuity.  Some of the stones here are very impressive.  There's one in particular that I'm looking at right now.  It has an arch and in that Arch is an angel reaching down from heaven, pulling the soul of the deceased to Heaven.  On that stone is the wife's name as well, but she's still alive- her husband long passed.  I can't imagine her pain.

There's a lot of Gaelic crosses here as well, and a lot of very old graves next to which trees are growing- the roots feeding upon the Dead.

It's raining harder now.  I'm standing in front of the graves of two different children- both infants.  One has a small Christmas tree, and the other a statue of an Angel. That child was born at the end of July and died in September 4th in the same year. Again, I can't imagine the pain that those parents have endured.

It's raining even harder now.  The sound of rain is always brought me peace.  I don't know why.  Maybe because it's the sky crying (to use the old cliche.). Maybe it's washing away the dirt in this world.  Someday I will hear it no more.  Someday, I'll be the Dirt washed away.  I'm okay with that.  I really am.

As I said, Death holds no fear to me: it's a friend.

2018 is coming to an end. I was with a friend of mine last night, and she told me that she can't wait for the year to end, because it's been one of the worst years of her life. I must say that my year has not been good at all either.  I spent most of it unemployed.  However, it is still not as bad as 2013. I still have no idea how I survived that year.

Heading back toward my car, and looking up hill, I see the Crypt of a Flying Tiger.  There aren't any of those left on this side of the Veil.  Maybe thirty feet away is the grave whose stone is shaped like a drum kit.  The person beneath it died in his early twenties by suicide.  I can't imagine how his parents feel, but I can't judge him.  I was 24 when I first attempted suicide.  I think about everything I would have missed- my daughter, my wife, some of the best people I've ever met in my life.  And some of the worst decisions I've ever made.

I usually visit this kid just to say hello; to tell him that I understand, and that I hope that his pain has gone away.  Much like when I visit Lisa- when I go down to Baltimore and visit the place where she left us, and I talk to her.

The year is ending and I'm in a far worse place than when it began.

God help me.

Be well.

Ten Years Gone By

I've written a LOT about "rediscovering myself."  In fact, the entire "MySpace blogs" is a record of those times as they happened.  (shameless plug.)  I've written about how I was "named" at Femme Fever.   Karen, the proprietor, did the makeup and asked what name I was using.  I told her but said it was not set in stone.  She stepped back and looked at me, as the makeup was finished, but I hadn't seen myself yet.  She looked at me and said "I have a strong feeling your name is Sophie."  She then turned the chair around so I faced the mirror and said "Say hello to Sophie!" I usually don't ignore strong feelings, so I kept the name.

The Second Picture of Sophie  "Reasonably Feminine?"

I went to that makeover with the thought that if I could look reasonably feminine, I'd continue exploring this side of me, and see how deep it ran inside of me.  I drove all the way up to Long Island, and found the place.  (I told Wife I was going to State College.)  I was scared out of my mind!  What was I doing? 

Karen was very welcoming, and she knew I was nervous.  I'd explained to her in our emails to each other that this would be my first time getting a makeover.  She'd seen this many times.  Her solution?  Before we would even really get talking, she took some measurements, and then handed me a bra and breast forms and said "Put these on."  I did as I was told, and so there I sat wearing a bra with fake boobs.  And she was right- it put me at ease.  It was like jumping into the deep end of a pool to get used to the cold water.  KER-SPLASH! 

In the first pictures, maybe the first dozen, I can see the fear in my eyes, then that fear subsiding.  (Most of the pictures from this session are at the very beginning of my Flickr page.)

"Businesswoman"

We talked about what I wanted to do, etc.  I wanted to do "girl next door," "Bond Girl," "businesswoman," and "bombshell."  The orange dress was the Bond girl attempt.  Not very Bond-like, but oh well.  The next look was the businesswoman.  That was a change of clothes and a slight shift in makeup. 

Would you sit with the Girl Next Door?

We then did "girl next door."  That was back to the red wig.  I wore a turtleneck sweater and skirt.  All three outfits were with the same stockings,boots, corset, etc. so changing was fast.  The last outfit was very different.  I wore pantyhose, strappy shoes...and no bra.  The dress was holding up the forms... sort of.  It had the effect of making my boobs look either enormous or saggy. 

My attempt at "come hither"

Of all the outfits, I think the red one was the most fun.  By then, I'd been there four hours, and felt so alive! 

Before leaving, I bought the red wig (Karen said I seemed to "come alive" in it) and the bra.  I would later buy the red shoes.  I haven't worn them in forever because, um, I can't figure out how to put them on.

The date of that photo session?  December 8, 2008. 

It's been over ten years. 

After that session, I ordered a couple of items on ebay.  Within a few months, I opened a PO Box a few towns over- in Oaks, Pa.  That way, I could receive items, catalogues, etc. without fear of discovery.  I paid cash for that.

I continued doing research online.  I discovered that there was a Transgender support group near me- VERY near me.  They met (and still meet) the third Saturday of every month: Southeast Pennsylvania Renaissance.  I resolved to go.  I signed off of work and borrowed Wife's car (mine was in the shop.)  I stopped at a parking lot in Valley Forge Park where I attempted to dress.  All I succeeded in doing was breaking my cheap Fredericks of Hollywood corset I'd worn for Halloween. 

I arrived, but I wasn't sure if I was in the right place.  I saw a woman walking in the parking lot.  I rolled down my window, and asked her if this was Renaissance.  She was Rebecca Lohr, president of Ren at that time.  She is still a dear friend (and a gifted author.)  She told me I could go inside and change in the restrooms, as many people did.  I grabbed my things:  corset, bra and wig from Femme Fever, shoes, blouse, skirt... and the "breasts" I'd made for Halloween out of bird seed and pantyhose.  Once inside, a GG welcomed me, and directed me to the right place.  She was the wife of one of the officers, and is a wonderful person.  (I won't name her, as her husband is still closeted.)

And so there I was- badly dressed with no makeup.  The meeting was informative, and I met MANY people who are dear friends to this day (my "original gangsters" to be 90s about it.)  After the group went into session, I was taken aside to a room for newcomers, where that one officer and I talked about who Sophie was, and what I wanted her to be.  She gave me an analogy of a train, which I still use to this day.  This is being like a train.  Some people get off at a certain stop, and that's where they are comfortable.  That's their home.  Very few take the train to the end of the line- transition.

The Only Photo of me that night that I'm aware of

I found out that there would be a Christmas party that night at Shangri La.  I was invited, and I went.  The restaurant was RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO WHERE I WORKED!  I was so incredibly nervous.  Directly following the gathering was Angela's Laptop Lounge.  I didn't know that it was $10 to attend.  My dear friend Jone paid for me, as I had no cash.  Jone took me under her wing that night, as did so many others.  In any case, I made sure no one took pictures of me.  I wanted no evidence of my being there.  (I paid Jone back with drinks the next time I went.)

Still, pictures of me wearing that outfit exist.  I wore it again in March 2009 to Renaissance and Laptop.  I did my own makeup as well (for only the second time.)  So, Aside from the different wig (and different hose, and corset), this was my look that night.

March 2009.  I've gotten better at makeup since

My dear friend Jen Lehman (she called herself Jennifer Johns back then) told me when I mentioned it was my first time out ever "Pandora's box has opened!"  And she was so right.  It had opened.

Jen the night I met her.  She's gonna kill me for posting this!  :) 

That night was December 21, 2008.

Ten Years.

A whole decade passed since that night.  I've met so many since then.  I've lost some as well.  I've never forgotten the kindness shown to me on that first night out.  Those ladies are among my closest friends. I honor them by paying it forward.  I try to help "new" girls when I can.  As I don't go out often now, that tends to happen at the Keystone Conference.

I hid my Truth from myself, and my Wife.  I told her about Sophie in May 2012.  I started HRT on December 10. 2012.  Wife's mother threw me out of the house in August 2013.  A few weeks later, my dearest friend, Lisa, killed herself.  We were going to transition together.

After making plans and preparations for months, I started living my Truth full time on March 25, 2014.

First Day Full Time

Since then, people have come and gone in my life.  I planned suicide in September 2016, but I was too cowardly to carry it out.

And now here I am.  It's mid-December, and past 1 AM.  Insomnia strikes again!  I'm wearing my "PJs"- shorts and a tank top.  No bra. I'm drinking water and listening to the Grateful Dead on headphones.  I never thought I'd live this long.  I never thought that Sophie would ever be anything except a monthly occurrence- a monthly night out.  However, I didn't understand how deep she was rooted.  I didn't want to admit my Truth- even to myself. 

Last night.  "Reasonably Feminine?"

My Truth.  I am a Woman Named Sophie (roll credits.)  That's who I've always been, even if I didn't want to acknowledge it.

Ten years ago, I took those first steps. The journey never ends.

Be well.

Celebrating Life

Of late, I've been re-evaluating my life.  Such as it is.

And so it was that, on Saturday, September 17, my roomie and bestie Linda and I went to dinner.  We did this for several reasons.  The most obvious was the generous gift I'd received which allowed me to do so.

Also, we were there to mark my 50th birthday a few days before- a day when I had plans, but didn't carry them out.

As veteran readers of this blog, September 17th has deep significance to me, as well as to many others.

On September 17, 2013,  the world learned that my dearest friend, Lisa Empanada, was dead.  Suicide.  The Darkness took her.

The past few years, this day has been one of reflection and tears.  I make sure I'm available to her soulmate Sandy if she needs a shoulder or ear.  But this year, she had plans.

I decided that this year, I'd do something different: I'd CELEBRATE Lisa's life, instead of dwelling on how much I miss her.  Like I do every other day of the year.

But not just Lisa's life.  Suddenly, I had to live.  I hadn't planned on that.  So I figured I'd take a night to Enjoy who and what I am.  Strut instead of sulk.

So.  Who and what am I?

I am a Woman.  With all that means.  True, I will never be able to bear children, but that doesn't define womanhood.  I have worked hard to become who I am today.  So, I decided to enjoy the fruits of my labors.

You see, that's something I'd forgotten.  The Joy of Womanhood.  Back when I was only able to be me for one night a month, I absolutely enjoyed being female.  I enjoyed looking down and seeing breasts and hearing my heels clack on the ground.  Of course there is FAR more to being a woman than that, but these little things brought me immense Joy.

A Lifetime ago: fake boobs, hip pads, corset, and a wig.

So that night, I'd made reservations at a fancy dining establishment for Linda and myself.  I put on my favorite dress- one that makes me feel good about myself.  I wore strappy heels.  And do you know what, dear reader?  When I looked into the mirror, for the first time in an eternity, I felt beautiful.  I thought I looked Hot.  So, after checking my makeup one last time, I turned and walked to the car, shoulders back, chest out, feeling Confident.

Linda and I were seated quickly.  We toasted to Lisa.  We toasted to Life.  We toasted Amanda Parnell (whose generosity made the night possible.) We toasted absent friends.  We ate well, and we laughed.

Toasting my huge forehead

As dinner came to a close, I said I wanted to finish our wine at the bar, which was all the way across the restaurant.  Why?  I wanted to "shake my ass across the room" so everyone could see me- see a confident Woman, free from her own chains, if only for a night.

And we did.  Then we walked back across the room to the exit.  From there, we went to Baxters for Angela's Laptop Lounge.  There I met my "Big Sister" Mel, and we talked for a while.  I also met Lynda Martini, who I'd been Facialbook friends with for a while.  She was a delight!

With Lynda Martini

It was a night for counting my blessings.  Linda and I called it an early night, as she had to work in the morning.  After returning to the apartment, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a while:  gaze into the mirror after coming back from a LL.

I used to look in the mirror one last time before cleaning off my makeup and changing into my male clothes.  I often would say to my reflection "Goodbye Sophie."  As time went on, that became more and more painful.

But that night, I looked in the mirror, and I smiled.  I didn't have to pull off a wig.  I didn't have to remove breast forms or carry a box of my girl stuff to my car from the motel room.  No, that night, I smiled and ran my fingers through my long hair.  I removed my dress and bra and saw my large, natural breasts.  Not forms.  I almost cried from joy.

Late Late at Night

The person reflected in the mirror was a Woman.  And she is me!

The Darkness clouds my vision.  Yet that night, I saw myself clearly.  I saw that while I still have a long path ahead, I have come a very long way.

And that- that made me Very Happy.


Be well.

Drifting Thoughts

It's Christmas time in Retail.  Usually my mind is on my work, but occasionally it wanders.

With the gorgeous Jone at the Renaissance Party

For example, last Saturday I worked all day.  It was extremely busy and I encountered some abusive customers.  But that night I attended two parties.  The first was the annual Renaissance Christmas party, hosted by the amazing Kristyn King.  The second was the 10th Anniversary Angela's Laptop Lounge Party at Baxters.

And both were a LOT of fun!  I wore my scarlet dress for the first time since Southern Comfort 2013 gala... the last night I saw Lisa Empanada alive.  I received many compliments on it, which helped my decidedly anti-holiday mood.

However, my roomie and I left them both early, as we both had to wake up early the next morning for work. As I undressed back at the apartment, a thought struck me.  I remembered all the times I changed in motel rooms before going home to my Wife.  And I remember how sad it made me.  I would usually take a few last pictures, then look in the mirror.  Looking back at me was the woman I knew was inside...and I had to say goodbye to her, usually for another whole month. Often I whispered "Goodbye Sophie" before first removing my false eyelashes, then my wig...

It was very hard to do.  And as time went on, it became almost impossible.  I would cry as I took that last look.  Then of course, in August 2013, I was thrown out of the house, so I no longer had to worry about changing in motel rooms.

Another bit I don't miss are the "Pink Hangovers."  That's the enormous letdown in the days following an event.  Think of it this way- for a full night, I was Myself, among people who Really understood me and who knew me for who I really was.  And during that time, I was my True Self.  Then I had to go back into my shell.  I had to go back to pretending- to playing the role that had grown onerous.  It was pure hell, knowing who I really was and having to hide.

With Katie and Linda at Laptop

Now, I see a woman whenever I look in a mirror.  But I do not take that for granted.  After all those times gazing at motel mirrors; after all the tears; I am proud of what I have earned.  Sometimes while getting ready for work in the morning, I pause in front of the full length mirror in the bedroom.  I look at myself- as I am now.   And I smile.  Am I where I want to be yet?  No.  Far from.  But I've come a long way.


However, there is another thought that keeps drifting in, especially when I lay in bed at night.  I think about who I was, and what I did to my Wife.  She thought she married a man.  What happened was so unfair to her.  Was our marriage perfect?  No.  But none are.  The picture that comes to me is one as I was, as a man.  And my hand is extended to her, waiting for her to take it.  Waiting for her to take the hand of her husband so that we may embrace.  So that we may express the Love that we share.

That man is gone.  Did he ever truly exist?  Replacing him is a middle age woman with whom my Wife now shares co-parenting duties.  We still get along very well.  in some ways, nothing has changed.  We went to see Star Wars last week.  We are both fanatics.  We discussed Star Wars and music on our first date back in 1991.  For her birthday years ago, I gave her a vintage Star Wars movie poster (Style A for those who know what that means.)  It cost a fortune, but she loved it.  My wedding gift to her was a Star Wars 10th anniversary print that I had framed.  And it was just like when we were dating.  Just the two of us, enjoying an afternoon at the movies.

Transition is about Loss.  I knew what I was giving up.  But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.  Badly.  When I think about that- when that image drifts into my mind, I always cry.

My life is currently far from perfect.  However, living my life authentically is so amazing.  This is what transition is all about- being who I truly am.  I've written it many times- that we as Transpeople have the advantage of knowing Who we really are.  How many people can say that?

May your Holidays bring you peace.

Be Well.

Three Years Out

Today, December 10, 2015, marks three years since I started HRT.  (That's Hormone Replacement Therapy, for those who aren't familiar with the acronym.)

Three years.  I'm trying to wrap my head around that.

Three years ago, I was still serving my license suspension for DUI.  I was still living with my Wife and daughter.  Lisa was still alive.  There were many people I had yet to meet.

November 2012.  I have no December 2012 pics.

My "Big Sister" Mel drove me down to the Mazzoni Center, as I couldn't drive.  I remember being just a little frightened, but more excited.  After I picked up the prescription, we went to lunch at California Pizza Kitchen.  She dropped me off back at the house, and I took the two pills: one blue and one white.  Estrogen and spironolactone.  Not long after, they would be joined by finasteride.

Things started slowly... until I started injections.  Then the changes came fast and furious.  By May, I was no longer wearing breast forms, and I had to wear constriction shirts to work.  My skin softened.  People began to notice differences, but attributed it to weight loss.

May 2013.  Laptop Lounge.  No forms!

Wife noticed the differences as well, but ignored them.  I celebrated them.  I was still only going out once a month, but felt so much better.  Then, one night after Laptop, I looked in a full length mirror, wearing nothing but a wig and panties.. Earlier that day, I'd shaved my whole body, which I'd never done before.  I was used to seeing a hairy stomach.  Without that, and with small breasts, makeup and wig, I saw, for the first time, a Woman looking back at me.  I cried.

Still, there was something wrong.  My injections were two weeks apart, and after nine days, I became angry, moody, and depressed- exactly what I was like before I rediscovered myself.  Dr. Goodman increased the frequency of my injections to once every ten days.  This solved that little issue fairly nicely.

August and September were horrible.  I was thrown out of MIL's house and Lisa killed herself.  I came close to falling into the Darkness as well.  But, thanks to dear friends, I am still here.

December 2013, at Sandy's house, wearing one of Lisa's push ups

In March 2014, I finally ditched the compression shirts when I went full time as a woman.  I was now Me.  That also meant wearing a bra full time.  I remember reading long ago that the difference between a crossdresser and a transwoman is that one can't wait to get home and put on her bra, while the other can't wait to get home and take her bra off!  There is some truth to this. But, I took it as a dream come true.  I had breasts, and needed a bra.  And like Donna Rose once wrote, she still enjoys putting on makeup because she's earned that right.  I feel the same way.

December 2014 at King of Prussia Mall

Since then, I keep growing as a woman, and the hormones keep working.  I am now a natural D cup.  Yes, I am very blessed by good genetics.  I will never have hips or, realistically, an hourglass figure like my friends Olivia and Kayden, but I will take the blessings I have been given.  One thing that makes me very happy is that my roomie and bestie Linda Lewis is now also on HRT injections, and is seeing wonderful results!  As it happens, we inject on the same day, so it makes remembering easier.

December 2015

As I type this, I am in my PJs.  Braless, as I usually am when at the apartment.  Reflecting back on the past three years, I ask myself- If I knew all that would happen when I took those two pills three years ago... would I still have done it?

If I understood all the life changes that this decision would cause; all the heartbreaks people would suffer, that I would endure, all the changes, would I have swallowed those pills so eagerly?

Absolutely.  This journey is one of many small steps.  There was getting my ears pierced.  Laser treatments.  Growing out my hair.  All conscious decisions, but all reversible.  HRT was where the possible futures diverged.  HRT was where my transition truly started.  Once I headed down this path, there truly was no turning back.

And now, three years later, I'm living my truth.  I have a woman's breasts and other features, and someday, maybe, I will be a complete Woman.  I love having breasts- it's everything I ever dreamed it would be.  I love being a Woman.  For the first time in my life, I love being Me.

I took the road less travelled by, and it has made all the difference.

Two Events

Ok, let's try to focus on the positive.


Last Friday, December 4, I had a day off work after 7 straight days of working retail during the holidays, including Black Friday.  I was physically, intellectually, and emotionally exhausted.

I slept in a bit.  Woke up... and received a text.   My dear friend Vanessa was coming to town for an appointment.  She lives ninety minutes north of me, and travels almost constantly for her job.  Add to that, she works as a contractor in a very male dominated field, where, if she were discovered as Trans, she would no longer be hired for jobs.  For this reason, she rarely gets to express herself as Vanessa.

I met Vanessa back in February 2009 at True Colors.  She had the appointment right after mine.  She saw Amanda's huge shoe selection, and immediately was in Heaven.  Vanessa loves shoes.  We spoke while Amanda finished my makeup.  We met later that night at the Renaissance meeting, then at Laptop Lounge.  She told me about her therapist, Dr. Maureen Osborne, and recommended her highly.  I called Dr. Osborne that Monday, and my life changed.  I can never repay Vanessa for that.

Vanessa and I the night we met.  February 2009

Vanessa has changed a lot over the years.  She no longer wears wigs, having grown out her hair.  Life has given her some nasty turns, but she still manages to keep going.  She recently attended my presentation at Penn State Abington, which she later said "may have been a tipping point in [her] life."

So, she was coming to town.  We made arrangements to meet for lunch, with my roomie and bestie Linda joining us at of our favorite bars, Rock Bottom.  Vanessa was a little late, so we had a glass of wine waiting for her.

Lunch was wonderful.  The three of us chatted and gossiped.  None of us wanted it to end.  So we all walked out into the mall.  Eventually, we found Santa Claus.  I insisted we have our picture taken with him.  And so we did.

I love this picture

Vanessa decided soon after that she had to go.  You see, her 21 year old son was getting done classes for the day, and needed a ride home.  He didn't know it, but he was going to meet Vanessa, not who he expected.  She had decided to finally come out to her son.  I don't have to tell you readers what a BIG step that is!

The next day, Vanessa texted me, saying it was awkward at first, then eventually went well.  Her son is gay, and understood having to keep her secret.  I am so unspeakably happy for her!

Oh, and Vanessa gave me gracious permission to post her pictures!  :)



A few days later, December 6, was Linda's birthday.  Linda's parents have disowned her for being trans, so birthdays aren't something she particularly enjoys.  In fact, she hates them.  A few weeks ago, when she was feeling particularly grouchy, she told me she didn't think anyone would even remember her birthday.

I was determined to prove her wrong.

I set a little scheme in motion.  I contacted local friends of us both, and invited them to a surprise birthday party. I told Linda that I wanted to take her out for her birthday for a nice dinner, and that our friend Kira would join us.  Kira lives in northern PA, so we rarely see her.  And Kira WAS there... I just didn't mention who else would be there.

The night before, my Wife wanted to go to dinner, and, when she learned that Linda's birthday was the next day, invited her to join us.  So Linda had a nice dinner the night before her birthday, and the staff sang happy birthday to her.

Linda enjoys a margarita the night before her birthday

I worked 11-7 that day.  The arrangements were that people were to gather at Rock Bottom around 7:30, and we'd arrive around 7:45.  And so we did.  Linda broke into huge smile when she saw everyone.  Hugs all around.

Jone, Lilia, and Kira.  Jane is photobombing

Linda isn't the most demonstrative person emotionally.  She keeps her feelings to herself for the most part.  However, I knew she was happy that night.  She couldn't stop smiling.  Ten people had shown up to celebrate her special day, and they all brought gifts.

Linda with Jake and Rhiannon, who we met at TDOR

Most of us had a little food, and several drinks.  Some of the people didn't know each other, but by the end of the night, it looked like they had become new friends.

The night ended too quickly.  Linda had to work the next morning, so we said our goodbyes and headed out into the chilly night.  Linda told me she was completely surprised by the party.  I smiled.  I wanted to give her a special birthday, and I think I succeeded.

Elizabeth and I

A special THANK YOU  to my dear friends Kristyn and Jone for helping me with the bill!  Without you two, I'd still be washing dishes at the restaurant to work off the check!

Dishpan hands for Sophie!

In the end, despite all the horrible news around the world, at least there were some vestiges of light here.  There's an old cliche that friends are the family we choose for ourselves, and it's true.  Especially for TGs.  So many of us lose their family, so our friends are sometimes all we have  keep us from the Darkness.

I am blessed to have people like Linda and Vanessa in my life.  And Jane, Diane, Jone, Kristyn, Lilia, Elizabeth, Kira, and new friend Selma!

Saturday from the Past

Long time readers might remember when the blog often talked about my one weekend out a month.  That's all I could swing while keeping Wife from becoming suspicious.  I signed off from work for the third Saturday of every month.

That was Sophie time.

That was time for the monthly Renaissance meeting and for Angela's Laptop Lounge.

What was my excuse?  That I was playing Dungeons and Dragons.  I used to play all the time (in fact I freelanced for TSR for a bit), but hadn't since moving back to PA from Baltimore.  So the idea of me attending a once a month game was perfectly feasible.

Things have changed.  Every day is Sophie time.  I no longer sign off for that day, so usually I'm working.  Often, I close the store on Saturday nights.  Even if I don't, I usually work until 7 or 8, so I haven't been to Ren since... well over a year I think.

Saturday, September 19, I worked 10-6.  My dear friend Jone, who is the treasurer at Ren, asked me to come and help out, as it was the annual BBQ, and the president Kris couldn't be there.  I said I would.  I asked my roomie and bestie, Linda Lewis if she wanted to come along, and she agreed.

I finished work, drove home, re-did my makeup and changed shoes.  Linda was ready.  We made a quick video, then headed out.  Then. we went to Ren, arriving just after nightfall.

There were many people there already.  Many faces were familiar; many were not.  Food was ready:  sausages, chicken breasts, hot dogs... good ol' American grillin' food!  Someone brought a portable picnic table.  Linda and I greeted friends, and ate some food.  One new person there was named Gia.  I was introduced to her, and I discovered she'd only been dressing in public a few months.  She was gorgeous!

Several people I hadn't seen in too long were there, including my dear friend Jen Lehman.  She was there my first night out as Sophie, and has been a pillar of strength for me since.  She has been full time a few years.

I took some time to walk about the offices.  The back corridor, where I had taken SO many pictures, was dark.  I paused to reflect a moment upon how far I'd come in all the years since I first attended Ren in December 2008.  Back then I was corseted, and had so many uncomfortable pads and prosthetics on... I so desperately wanted to look like my ideal of femininity.  The reality of being a woman now is FAR more satisfying.  Do I wish I could look prettier?  Oh absolutely.  But I'm satisfied for now...  (Taking donations for FFS if anyone is feeling generous!)  ;)

Posing in the hall, November 2009

The speaker that night was Dr. Michelle Angello, who was speaking about duality.  I decided not to attend the talk and instead went to Baxter's early for Laptop Lounge.  Linda and I made ourselves comfortable at the bar and I watched some college football.

Transpeople started trickling in.  There were others there earlier, including a DJ who was VERY loud and frankly not great.  He was probably just starting out, so I'm sure he'll improve.  One of the people was an African American guy, who came over and complimented Linda on her look.  He wanted to know how we "did" our breasts.  As neither of us were wearing forms, we both replied that the Girls were real.  He asked if we were trans, and we both just smiled.

Picture courtesy Angela's Laptop Lounge

My "Big Sister" arrived and we spoke for quite a bit.  It's always great seeing her.

Another guy started hitting on Linda.  She moved down the bar to speak with him.  He told her I looked like a "slut" who was "trying too hard" with "that dress."

Ummm... ok.  As I had worn that dress to work that day, I didn't think it was THAT risque.  Live and learn I guess.


As I had worked that day, I was very tired.  We left at midnight.

It had been a looooong time since I'd done both Ren and Laptop.  Doing so brought back such wonderful memories.  I've met so many wonderful people and discovered who I was meant to be.  Doing both used to mean EVERYTHING to me- I'd go FAR out of my way just for a taste of womanhood.  Now I'm a woman full time.  In fact, last week I marked eighteen months full time!

Life takes us so many unexpected places.

Be well.

The Debutante Ball

Saturday  night there was a party.  A Party for my One Year Full Time.  My friends Elizabeth and Jamie (look here for the history of who they are) decided I should have a party to mark the occasion.  Elizabeth also wanted a theme, and asked me for ideas.  I said she could come up with one, and so she did.

From Facialbook

She had an image of elegant gowns and dazzling decor... and I was really taken aback.  I mean-Me?  Elegant?  But her reasoning (posted above) really made a lot of sense.

A Party.  For me.  For Sophie.  It took a while to get my head around that.  Not only did they accept me, they wanted to celebrate me.  Long time readers know my feelings about such things.  I don't feel worthy of them.

In any case, my one year anniversary passed quietly, so I now have satisfied that WPATH standards of care hurtle.

Then a few days later it was Saturday, March 28.  I worked 9-5 that day.  I didn't get excited about the party until my last hour of work.  I usually don't get excited about things well in advance, as I worry that whatever it is will fall through.  Yes, I'm such an optimist.

I'd tried on a few gowns I have in storage, but none fit (moooo) so Elizabeth lent me one of her cocktail dresses.  And that is what I wore.

So I finished work, and stopped at Wawa to get a sandwich and Gatorade (2 bottle- it's great for hangovers) and went to M's where the party was being held.  (Veteran readers know I lived at M's for several months.) I ate quickly, and then redid my makeup.  My roomie Linda arrived around then, and made suggestions for my makeup.

Linda waits for me to finish

The Elizabeth wanted to do my hair.  I wet it so she could blow it out, which she did.  Then she tried to curl it.  It wouldn't curl.  My hair was stubborn... "Jamie can you try this?"  Oh- it helps if the curling iron is on!  We all had a great laugh.  The two of them then produced a tiara for me to wear.  I smiled, maybe a little embarrassed.

Seven o'clock came, and I was ready.  By then, others had arrived, including my "Big Sister" Mel.

Sophie at Seven

One of the next to arrive was someone I hadn't seen in over thirty years.  Jackie and I attended high school together.  We didn't hang out, but we knew each other.  The day after graduation, she headed into the Air Force, where she served for over twenty years.  Eventually, she friended me on Facialbook, and I thought "oh that's nice."  But a year ago when I went public, she became one of my biggest and most vocal supporters.  I was very grateful.  She accepted the invitation to the party, and it was wonderful to see her.  She gave me a butterfly pin, which I wore.

LtoR: Dawn, Jackie, Linda, Jane, Diane  (I'm seated in front)

Eventually maybe thirty people showed up.  A few brought gifts and they were gratefully accepted.  My dear friends the gorgeous Victoria and amazing Amy brought me a butterfly necklace, which I wore to work on Monday.

Early Evening Group Shot

At around 11, there was a "Sophie quiz" (not my idea, but I wrote it.)  The winner, Dawn, scored a 9 out of a possible 11 points, and was awarded a crisp $20 bill.  That's when things got a little surreal.  After the prize was given, I said a few words of thanks.  I was overwhelmed with emotion, tongue-tied and more than a little drunk.  Not my best speech.

Then Victoria spoke.  And I fought back the tears.  She was so eloquent and beyond generous with her words.  After that, another spoke, and another, then someone I barely knew, the husband of a friend spoke, saying that my friends and I were the first TG people he'd met, and he was richer for it.

I was completely a wreck by this point.  I certainly didn't deserve all that!

Former coworker and fun person, Jen

The party continued on, with people coming and going.  R's sister Katie came, wearing a gown she wore in Junior high!  (And it still fit)  (grumble).  I drank a LOT of wine, and eventually lay down on the couch.  I don't know what time it was when I finally fell asleep, but I slept through the night.

Co hostesses Elizabeth and Jamie

I woke Sunday on the couch.  I had a throbbing headache.  I cleaned the house a little, then loaded my car.  The activity proved a bit too much for me, as I then ran to the bathroom to... um... regurgitate.

The few that stayed over then went to Minella's Diner in Wayne.  I was invited but declined due to my sickness.  I drove home, and crawled into bed, where I spent the day sleeping it off.

Pre-party

I'm still wrapping my head around this... around what people said... about having a party for me at all.  A lot of good people came out and showed support for me- so many that I cried.  I've done my best to fight the good fight; to be a Good person.  I guess I attracted like minded people.

To those that attended the party, you have my deepest thanks.  To all who couldn't make it but sent me words of encouragement, thanks to you as well.  I definitely have some of the most wonderful people as friends.  Beautiful people.

I had a Magical night.  And nothing I've written here can begin to express how I feel.  But it will have to do.