Burning

Interlude III: Burning

Tuesday, August 2, 1983.  Reagan Strongly Defends Policies On Minority And Women's Rights

I'd had enough.  I was done being a freak.  Goddamn it- I was a MAN (on the edge of seventeen!), and it was time I started acting like one!

Puberty finally kicked in about a year before, but I was still much shorter than my peers.  And still looked like I was twelve, which meant getting a date was all but impossible.  I used to go to dances with a friend named Cheryl, but I screwed that up a year before as well.  She'll probably never speak to me again.

Senior picture: July 1983

I was tired of being bullied by neighborhood kids, by my brother, by everyone.  So, I started studying martial arts in a dojo run by one of my mom's co-workers.  Beat the shit out of one of my bullies, and word got out.  His having a cast on his arm from a compound fracture was a good deterrent.

I would model myself after the men I saw in comics, but also after my dad and show no emotion, but Anger.  Endure no insult.  Defend.  Punish.

It was early afternoon when I started a fire in the backyard burn barrel using all my girl stuff: all the clothes, a wig I bought at Halloween in ’81, a little kindling wood, and lots of lighter fluid.  I put the makeup and shoes in a trash bag, and deposited it in the dumpster at Burger King, where I worked.  My family were all away in Delaware for the week, so no one would disturb me.

The hot, sticky sun beat down, as it had all summer.   As I watched and sweated, the flames rose to the music of my Sears boom box.

Since you've gone, I've been lost without a trace

I dream at night, I can only see your face.

 In the shade of the oak tree, our German Shepherd Sabre lay resting, indifferent.  He was an old dog at this point, and tired.  As the smoke and flames consumed my shame, I felt lost- Like I was burning a part of me I'd never get back.  I felt like a heavy veil descended over me.  Suffocating.  Drowning out all emotions.

Sabre.  1982

A week later, Sabre died suddenly of brain cancer.  

He'd been my confidante: the only one who I could talk to about all this.  I felt like he understood.  Or at least, didn’t judge.

Now, I had no one.

I spiraled into a depression that even my co-workers and few friends noticed. It's never left me, even after decades of denial and therapy.

No one could ever know.  After all…

Men don't share stupid feelings. 

 

 

 

 

            I saved Sabre’s dog tag and put it on my keyring.  It’s still there.

A month later, I started my senior year.  Priority one was applying to colleges.  Drexel University was my primary goal, but I also applied to Penn State, as well as Temple’s Tyler school of Art. 

Then in January ‘84, I met this girl from St. Pius high school at a school dance.  Her name (in my book) was Julianne.  A girlfriend would cure me of that… foolishness. 

Right?

First Dressing

Another new bit of my book.  I'm writing interludes about my transition as "in between semester" bits.  So meta!

            Back in the seventies, kids were left alone all the time.  “Just be home when the street lights come on” was the common time limit.  Still, being left for a weekend at thirteen?  That showed trust…

Interlude II: First dressing

Saturday, October 6, 1979.  Pope Firmly Depends [sic] Church Restriction On Contraception

Wow!  I couldn't believe my parents agreed to the idea!  They and John went to the house in Delaware that dad was fixing up for the weekend… and I got to stay behind ALONE.  John was on the football team, but they had an off weekend with no game.  As dad also had off that weekend, off they went. 

Interlude II: First dressing

Saturday, October 6, 1979.  Pope Firmly Depends [sic] Church Restriction On Contraception

Wow! I couldn't believe my parents agreed to the idea!  They and John went to the house in Delaware that dad was fixing up for the weekend… and I got to stay behind ALONE. John was on the football team, but they had an off weekend with no game, As dad also had off that weekend, off they went.

My jobs were threefold:

One- deliver papers for John's Evening Phoenix paper route. In addition to my own.

Two- take care of the dog

Three- Make sure the house doesn't burn down.

The third one sounds like a joke, but it wasn't.  During the previous summer (1978), there were a series of arson fires in a house across the street. The fifth killed four people: Father, mother, and two sons, the youngest of whom was John's age. The one daughter was convicted of murder.  

In any case, I was ready for this weekend.

Sears Catalogue 1979.  I had this outfit (note the clogs!)

Once the previous spring, while the rest of the family were a way visiting relatives, I tentatively tried on one of my mom's dresses.  By then, I was able to articulate my dark secret: inside I was a girl.  That made me a freak. I also had to make sure I never, ever, let anyone guess that truth.  Learned that the hard way when I was four.

In any case, I tried on one of mom's dresses.  It was way too big on me.  I felt so guilty.  What was I doing?  Stupid, STUPID FREAK!  She would figure out I did this.  How would I explain it?  I was going to be caught!  Add to that the whole idea of me being in a dress to begin with…   After some guilty and desperate thought, I figured I would feel less guilty if the clothes I tried were my own.

So, using the paper route money, I ordered some things from the Sears and JCPenney catalogs:  A dress that should fit my short, tiny frame, a skirt, blouse, and (Horrors!) a bra!  As I was always home from school before anyone else came home, it was easy to intercept any packages in the mail.   Then it was just a matter of waiting for an opportunity.  Hiding the clothes was easy: my bedroom was in the attic and was also the family storeroom. I hid everything among the boxes and things.  No one ever found them.

So, this weekend, I was going to try on this... this… gay freak girly stuff.   And I did!  I used bunched up tube socks to fill the bra cups. (Eventually, I’d use water balloons.)  The clothes pretty much fit.  Lucky me.  And what’s with the buttons being backwards?  Anyway, I borrowed a wig that Mom never wore anymore and looked in the mirror.     

Oh God! I looked TERRIBLE!  Like a boy in a dress!  But past the guilt and shame, I felt… What was this feeling?  Years later, I figured it out.

I felt Right.  At Peace.

Yes, I looked awkward and ugly, but I felt that I finally was seeing myself.  Who I should have been all along.

 

Over time, my presentation improved.  As the girls in school were changing- blossoming, I was left behind. But for these short, blessed times, I could pretend I wasn't.  I could be the girl I was inside.  I knew eventually I would hit puberty (I was thirteen), and it would change me into something… I didn't want to be.

I just had to be very careful in these times.  If I were caught...  I didn’t even want to think about it.

But for those fleeting moments, I had peace. 

 

 

I never dared dream that the girl in the mirror would someday become a woman.

Story of Four

I've told this story so many times giving talks, but I've never written it down.   So here it is.

This story begins in June 1970 on a beautiful morning.  I was across the street playing with the neighbor's daughter, I’ll call her April.  She was my age: four years old.

It should be noted that even then I knew I was different.  I knew that I was called a boy, but I knew I wasn’t one.  That said, I didn't really know what a girl was either.  I just kind of knew our parts were different, also that I kept being told by my father that I was going to be raised as a man. I didn’t know what I was- so I must be a freak.

Freak at four

In any case, I was across the street with April, playing house when I was called back to our house by my older brother.  After looking both ways and crossing the street, I went into the house and found my father in the living room.  My mum and brother were nowhere to be seen.

Dad was sitting on a stool, his belt in his hand. I knew what that meant.  Every kid back then knew what that meant. I was told to come over and drop my shorts, which I obediently did.  He bent me over his knee and proceeded to give me the beating of my life.  

I can see it now, over fifty years later, as if it were still happening- feel the frustration and confusion.  

The whole time, he was saying "I'm not raising no fairies, I'm raising MEN!  You don't play with girls.  Girls are good for two things, and one of them is cleaning the house.  You're a MAN, and you will play with the boys.  Boys are better than girls!" 

I was then sent to my room for Eternity- which is what the rest of the day felt like back then.

So, what that beating taught me was that I was different, that this was bad, and that I would have to hide this difference for the rest of my life if I wanted to avoid punishment.

Oh how right I was!

 

Hall Street from the air, 1969.  My home was just a shade above dead center

Decades later, when I came out as transgender to my parents, I asked my dad if he remembered this incident.  He didn’t- and why should he?  To him, it was just another day and one of his kids needing punishment.

He was performing the role of father as he knew it- as it was shown to him by his father, and probably all the men in the family going back through time to Germany and beyond.  As most other fathers of the time did.

Snake Subaru Sophomore Summer Start

I don't remember if I've told this story before.  Heck, I've been telling you stories for so long that even I don't remember the beginning (which was December 2008, btw.)

I drive a lot to see Wife and Daughter in South East Pa (SEPa), so I listen to audio books.  I just finished Brothers by Alex Van Halen.  It was excellent and raw.  In any case, it reminded me of an event in my life that was more important than I thought at the time.

This happened in June 1982, on the last day of finals- the last day of my sophomore year.  I forget the exact date, and it doesn't matter.  The day was sunny and glorious.  

I had few friends at that time.  Two of those were the people that I played D&D with- Dr. Dave and Snake.  Snake obviously isn't his real name- it was a nickname given for a really, well, stupid reason, but it stuck.  Of the three of us, I was the youngest.  In June 1982, I was 15.  But Snake was 16... and now had a driver's license.  

Oh, to have a license!  To escape the confines of our small town- to go wherever we'd like: to the mall, get food, whatever... without having parents drive us!  THAT was freedom!  

Snake was allowed to drive his mum's beige '75 Subaru (which looks eerily like the photo below.)  Snake's dad owned a garage, and Snake was busy restoring an MG-A convertible.  I'll come back to that.  

1975 Subaru

That day, Snake had the Subaru.  Dr. Dave, Snake, and I had the same final exam.  As we all lived in Spring City, he offered to drive us home.  When we got into the car, Snake suggested we go to the King of Prussia (KOP) mall, which was like Mecca for teens of our area (and was, and still is, one of the largest malls in the world.)  Going there always meant parents driving.  But... not that day.

The first stop was my house.  We were listening to WMMR on the radio, and they were playing Van Halen Dancing in the Street (cover of the Marvin Gaye song made famous by Martha and the Vandellas).  The volume was turned WAY UP.  When I jumped out of the car to drop off my school stuff, the whole street HAD to hear it!

In a way, this was an announcement to all- I was no longer a Child, I was a Teenager!  I had no idea what that would mean, but there I was!  Loud and rude- like all the teenagers I'd seen on TV, movies, or in life!  Who cares if the music was too loud?  Or how annoyed the neighbors on the street would be?  It was like a Declaration of Independence.  

1962 MG-A just like Snake's.  Maybe it is his?

So we went to the mall.  I don't remember anything about that trip, but if it was anything like a typical mall trip from later high school, we walked around the mall (which, back then was an oval with a branch sticking out).  In the early 80s there had been an update to the mall as well as the construction of a new mall next to it: the Court, which opened in 1981.  That was the mall for rich folks- VERY 80s.  It's still there, but since another update on the original mall made it much fancier, it looks like the dated old part.  

While walking around, we always stopped at Allied Hobbies to look for new AD&D stuff, the Listening Booth record store (where I worked briefly), the food court, and, of course the arcade: Space Port.

I miss arcades- with their low lights to make the screen easier to see, and the great games.  True escapism.

So, what's my point?  Well, I really don't have one.  Maybe there's a metaphor to my "coming out" almost 32 years later.  After all, I was 'crossdressing' then- it was my Dark Secret.  My Shame.  But, you know what?  I think, that for that moment in time, that particular event- I felt accepted and Happy.  

Be well. 

March of Questions

The cold rain falls here in State College, flutily trying to cleanse the Earth.  Evil has gripped the US.  It was on full display the other night during a televised speech to Congress.

Rainy days always make me reflective.  Perhaps rain are the tears of God or the dead.  Perhaps they are a metaphor for renewal and life, as water evaporates, rise, condenses, falls back to Earth just to eventually evaporate again.  

Wow.  Corny metaphors... and I'm not even drunk.

In any case, In the past week, people asked me questions that really gave me pause.  I figure writing them down would help me think through and process my answers.  You lucky people.

Recent pic

The first was asked  to me by a co-worker the other day, then by a therapy student last night:  What would healing look like for you?

This first came up during a discussion about Justice.  My coworker (who is against carceral state) believes that punishment doesn't help the victim at all.  My counter-point was "so the perpetrator just commits a crime, and gets away with it?"  Their point was that these are two separate issues- that society cares more about punishment than restoring the victim.  The coworker was once the victim of a hideous crime (I'm not at liberty to say what) while living in Hong Kong, and said that the first thing the authorities there did was to help them recover from the crime.  (yes, the perp was caught and punished.)  Hence the question. 

My answer: Wow.  I really have no idea. I've lost so much and have the scars to prove it. Move to a different house with Wife and daughter and live as a family again?  (and drag Linda along as well.)  The issue here is that if someone comforts me (like says "I'm proud of you), I don't believe them.  It bounces off my armor and doesn't get through (just like compliments.)  I've thought of this for a couple of days... am I beyond healing?  I mean- there's no way to have my years restored to me.  Apologies, while helpful, don't restore.  The "plate is still broken" so to speak.  

Of course, I could just let go of the past, and all the Pain.  But that Pain defines me- drives me.  

Without the experiences that caused the Pain (and other experiences) that make me who I am, for good or for ill.  That Pain gave me my drive and passion for justice.  Would justice on those who hurt me long ago bring me healing?  Not now.  Justice must be swift to be helpful.  That said, there are some graves that it would me great pleasure to, ahem, defecate upon.  

This is a question I need to really consider.  A lot.  

I thought of the second the other night while watching Casablanca.  That's a movie about many things, with regret being a major theme.  I thought about the losses I've endured- the many regrets I've piled up in my life.  Then I asked myself: Is it worse to regret something you did or something you did not do?

I posted the question on facialbook and received some good answers.

My answer: Something I did NOT do.  It's the hell of "what if."  When I regret something I did, I at least tried and found an outcome.  For example: I transitioned, and the following happened: blah blah.  I maintain that those results are better than wondering where my life would've been had not transitioned, but still wanted to.  If that makes sense.  (I already know what the alternative to transition would've been: death.)  

The third question was asked to me at a presentation I frequently do here at PSU: it's a brief LGBTQ 101, followed by the stories of the presenters, then a Q&A.  Usually the audience are undergrads, as we (me and the other presenters) are invited to speak to classes by the professors.  An F2M person (they told me) asked me the following:  What is your favorite part of being a woman?

In my eleven years of presenting about transgender issues, no one has EVER asked me that.  A question I get frequently is "What do you miss about being a man?"  (I usually steal Jennifer Finney Boylan's answer to that: "Pockets.")  Yet never the opposite.  The student said they couldn't imagine wanting any part of being female.  I get it- that's dysphoria.  

The answer I eventually gave was the 'permission' to feel and express emotions.  Guys really aren't allowed to do that lest they be accused of being "gay."  (Masculinity is a rigid, narrow course.)  Now, if I wish, I can cry, laugh, express all the emotions I wish.  After all, there's no 'restrictions' on women for expressing emotions.  Also, the estrogen allows me to feel more emotions.  There are emotions I experience that I can't even name.  (Did I install an emotion chip?)

In any case, all three are questions I need to keep considering.  If nothing else, to take my mind off the hell on earth that MAGA has made the world.

Be well.

40th reunion already?

On Saturday November 16, 2024, the Spring Ford High School Class of 1984 gathered at Copperfield Inn, Limerick, Pa., for their 40th reunion.

That's all you need to know.  Bye!

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Oh, ok I'll write more.  

Group shot from the Class trip.  I'm not in that photo

Wow.  Forty years in a heartbeat.  Heck, TEN years in a heartbeat.  Yet, in those ten, so much has changed.  I've gone from being new at transition to being a mentor: a trans "elder."  I've moved away from SEPa to State College, where I'm (supposedly) working on my PhD.  My daughter has gone from a child to a teenager.  The political scene has reached a boiling point.  I've made a friend or two but more than that have died.  The world survived a pandemic.

I have less years ahead of me than I have behind, and those years fly by.  I'd like to think that time has made me a better person, but I know that isn't true.  I've become more bitter and withdrawn.  I have gotten better at makeup though, despite rarely wearing it.

I wasn't going to attend this reunion.  It was $45 I didn't have. But, like the 30th, I was "bribed" by Eva, a classmate now in California.  She said she'd get me a hotel room for the night so I wouldn't have to drive back to State College that night.  Why she made me this offer, I don't know.  I still don't know why she offered to pay ten years ago.  

In any case, I made plans to get my hair styled near the hotel as I'm clueless.  It looked great for a while (until I started sweating.)  I then picked up wings at a local cheesesteak place that I must say were very disappointing.  I drove a backroad to the hotel that reminded me of what the area looked like when I was growing up- farms instead of strip malls and McMansion farms.

Limerick, PA

After meeting up with Eva (2 doors down in the hotel), she gave us both Korean facials (I have no idea what was in them- just that they were on plastic strips.)  She also wanted to do my makeup.  We settled on her doing my eyes and applying fake lashes which I simply cannot do.  She did a wonderful job on the eyes (I touched up one spot where there was a smudge) and I did the rest.  I wore the red dress I wore in Vegas with a bit of a push up bra.  Yes, I wanted the girls to shine!  I wanted to slay as best as I could.  That meant cleavage for miles, dammit!  

As I finished my makeup, the third of our group arrived.  She was my old friend Sue, who attended the 30th as well.  I went back to my room and watched the Penn State game as they changed and finished getting ready.  We rode over together in Eva's rental car, arriving just after 6.  When we arrived, we met a few other classmates in the parking lot.  We met another at the door.  Let's just say that back then, he and I didn't get along back in school.  Back then, we ended up in a fight which I handily won (remember- this is when I was still in the dojo.)  I did not introduce myself.  

I managed to reach some old classmates about this reunion.  One I hadn't seen (or heard from) in 30 years- not since the 10th reunion: Alecia.  She was #2 in our class (beaten by a razor thin margin) as well as an athlete.  Back then, we used to talk a LOT.  She was a sounding board after a couple of nasty events I will not discuss here.  When I first reached out to her (about the Scitman book) I wondered how she'd react to my transition.  I needn't have worried.  She took it all in stride, as I'd hoped (and rather expected.)  I'm guessing she googled me or something before responding, being a scientist and all.  Yes, she is a bionic scientist.  She can rebuild you.  She can make you better than you were.  Better, stronger, faster.  In any case, her husband was actually the one to talk her into going.  

With Alecia.  My hair already flattened.

She looked amazing (and yes, that's her natural hair color!)  We talked about old times, old friends, new times, her daughter's PhD... I always figured she'd become a doctor.  Nope- scientist.  Her husband was a delight as well.  He was content sitting back and watching people his wife knew from the day.  His opinion he kept to himself.

Eva, Thomas, Me, Dawn, Sue, Terri

I was surprised inside when I saw another old friend who'd moved to Houston: Dawn.  Dawn was a hairdresser by trade, and she was the one who did my makeup that Halloween fateful night in 2008.  Had I known she was in the area, I would've had her do my hair!  I was very glad to see her, and we sat next to each other at dinner.  (Dinner was nice, btw.)

As we're getting older, the number of "empty chairs" gets larger.  This time, there was a poster naming those who'd died.  It's missing a couple: John Cauffman and Don Schantz.  

Looking around, I noticed something: most of us looked our age.  Some looked younger.  Some looked FAR older.  Time had not been kind, and I assume neither had disease or such.  There but for the grace of God...  There were a couple of faces I hadn't seen at a reunion before this.  Alecia was one.  Another I will not name, but he was thrown out of the venue for being too drunk.  

Flat hair due to sweat- it was very hot in the room

I must say he wasn't the only one who made an ass of themselves.  I was standing in line for a drink when a slim, beautiful blonde and I started chatting.  I didn't recognize her, so I figured she must be a spouse.  She asked what I thought of the reunion, blah blah small talk.  She then asked what my opinion was of a certain classmate, whom I will call AH.  I didn't even think for a second as to why she would ask about such a specific person (who was in attendance) and said "He's an asshole. A bully.  He loved tormenting people smaller than him, thought women owed him sex then discarded them like toys, and all he ever talks about at the reunions is the spectacular football play he made our senior year.  (It actually was pretty spectacular, but still...)

I stopped myself before pointing out how, at the 30th, his wife wasn't there so he was flirting with many of the women.  Then I said, "Why do you ask?"  

She replied "Oh, I'm his wife."

Open mouth and insert leg!  I felt so incredibly stupid and apologized for my candor.  I bought her a drink.  She wasn't angry.  She explained that I wasn't the only one with that opinion.  Apparently, she knew very little about his high school days.  I said, "So you don't know about the 'the catch'?"  She rolled her eyes and said "oh believe me I've heard about THAT so many times..."  Anyway, she wanted to ask people about her husband to find out about his past from other people's point of view.  Perhaps she'd asked him and wasn't convinced by his answer.  In any case, she missed the 30th due to surgery.  I apologized again, and we parted.  We spoke again later, and she bought my last drink of the night (of 4).  

With Michele G

For the most part it was a quiet night, rather sedate.  I spoke with the people I expected/hoped to speak with, (including Michele G and Tony S) and that was nice.  My transition was old news, and only one person brought up the class trip (which was nice.)  That said, early in the night I had an affirming moment.  A female classmate (I won't say who) told me "I am so jealous of your tits!"  I thanked her and replied that I was very lucky.  

Still, that makes me smile, even as I write this.  At least SOMEBODY was impressed with my look for the night.  

After returning to the hotel, Eva, Dawn, a classmate named Al (who was very well dressed) and I hung out in my room, drinking and talking.  It was my favorite part of the night.  We learned things about each other and rehashed the events of the evening.  I finally went to bed at 3:30.  I was up at 8 to shower and go see Wife and daughter, followed by the long drive back to State College.  As you can imagine, by the time I arrived at the apartment I was exhausted.  I was really dragging at work the next day.  

I've had over a week to think about the event, of the people I saw, and where life had taken or done to us all.  After the thirtieth, I wrote "What brought me to this event?  What brought the others?  I think it's the need for Connection.  All we have in common is that we lived in the same area and were about the same age, so that made us classmates...  Connection.  We all need it.  Maybe in time all wounds heal, but they never heal alone.   Sometimes it takes Change... and someone extending their hand."  

That still applies.  I'd add to that these reunions also connect us to our long-lost youth- the halcyon days of energy, vigor, spectacular catches, and a life wide open with possibilities.  It seems that's all some people have.  That's not an indictment or a judgement: it just is.  I spoke to my dad about the reunion.  He had his sixtieth reunion several years ago- it was the first he'd ever attended.  He also said it would be the last held, as their numbers dwindle (they are all in their 80s.)  That's twenty years away for me- a heartbeat or last breath.  A wise friend once told me "Days drag, but years fly."  

They weren't wrong.  

Thanks again to Eva for her kindness in getting me a room for the night. 

Be well.

Crossdresser Questionnaire

I saw this on Facialbook, and it looked fun.  As long-time readers of this blog know, I consider crossdressers to be part of the transgender tapestry.  "There but for the grace of God" and all that.  Most crossdressers I know (and I know many) would transition if they could, but circumstances prevent that.  I know a few who dress purely for the enjoyment of "art."  But not many.  

I'll put a "clean" copy in the comments for those that wish to fill it out for their social media. 

A lot of these questions were covered by previous blog entries, which I will link where appropriate.

As none of these questions reveal anything about passwords or such, here we go...

************************************************************************

100 Crossdressing Questions Answered

1. How old were you when you realized you were different? 

Four.  I remember it distinctly. 

2. How old were you when you first tried wearing women’s clothes, make up etc? 

Mum dressed me as a girl for Halloween when I was seven.  Aside from that, I was twelve when I started dressing on my own.  

 

3. Have you ever told anyone you were a Crossdresser?

Before coming out to my wife, no.  Now everyone knows my "dark secret."

4. At what age did you come up with your femme name? 

It was December 2008, so I was 42.  Details HERE.

5. Did you use any other femme names before you chose your current name if so what was it?

For maybe a month before Sophie, I was Lisa.  Lisa is now my middle name to honor Lisa Empanada. 

6. How did you come up with your Femme name?

Karen at Femme Fever gave it to me.  Details HERE (same link as above)

Femme Fever Dec. 2008

7. Have you ever been caught dressed?

Once, by my older brother. Story HERE.  I had several close calls, but only caught the one time- and that was because I was wearing makeup. 

8. How did the people you told take it?

Wife took the crossdressing part as well as could be asked.  I lost 90% of my friends.  Many said they'd support me than disappeared.  My family disowned me for a while.  Mother in law threw me out.   

9. Are you married? 

Yes. 

10. Does your spouse know? and if so are they accepting? 

Yes.  See #8 above.

11. What was the first article of women’s clothes you ever bought?

Pantyhose.  Leggs. In the plastic egg.

12. What was the last article of women’s clothes you bought? 

A swimsuit.  One piece.

13. Long or short skirts? 

I used to love short skirts, but now I prefer mid or knee length.

14. Do you venture out dressed? If yes how often do you go out dressed? 

Well, yes.  I've been full time for over ten years.  

15. If you could go back and change one thing about your Crossdressing what would it be? 

Wow.  Maybe not beat myself up for it all those years.  Or not to have the urge to do it (which turned out to be gender dysphoria.)

16. Do you feel being a Crossdresser makes you a better person? If yes how so? 

It caused me a lot of pain and pleasure.  The pain of lying to my wife, and the eventual destruction of my life as I knew it.  In the end, I am a better person, as before transition, I was an angry asshole.  The anger is mostly gone now.  I may not be happy, but I am at peace.

17. How long were you dating / married before you told your significant other or spouse?

We had been married 19 years at that point.  

18. What is your favorite article of clothing? 

I have a favorite bra, but my fave has to be my teal dress.  I like it so much that I bought a second one which waits, still in its plastic, if the other one is ever ruined or torn or whatever.

This dress (#18 above)

19. If you have bought your own clothes, have you ever had any issues with store clerks?

No, I never have.  Funny, right?

20. What is your greatest Crossdressing accomplishment?

I think it's an accomplishment that I went out in public at all.  I'd have to say it was the friendships I developed over time.  If not for people like my "big sister" Mel, Lisa Empanada, Linda Lewis, Ally Raymond, Amanda Richards, Victoria Datta, Kimberly Huddle, Jenny J, and Jen L, and so many others, I would be long dead.  

21. What is your favorite brand of make up?

MAC.  It usually works for me.  

22. Do you wear perfume? If yes what is your favorite fragrance?

I do when I get really dressed up.  I usually wear Clinique "Happy".  Do they even make that nay more?  I'm almost out.

23. How many lipsticks do you own? 

Umm... I never counted.  Somewhere around 10 I think.  Mostly MAC, but some others. 

24. What is your favorite color of lipstick called?

MAC "Syrup" is what I wear the most.

25. Did you buy breast forms or do you make your own?

I bought them, and eventually sold them on eBay.  My breasts are all natural now.  

26. Do you ever have dreams related to Crossdressing? if yes what was it? 

Funny enough, no.  All my life I would be female in some dreams, male in others, or switch back an forth.  Still that way.

27. When not dressed how often do you think about it, for example while at work? 

I used to- really often.  When I was dressing once a month, I would plan my outfits all month.

28. Favorite hair removal method? 

I did laser, and some electrolysis.  The laser lasted around 10 years, but my beard is now coming back.  It's frustrating.

29. If you could spend a day with anyone else dressed who would it be? 

As I'm full time, this no longer applies really.  I love hanging out with my friends as it's been so long.

30. Do you have space in the closet for your clothes or do you have to hide them? 

At first I hid them in boxes in the basement, labeled "Games." We'd moved from Baltimore and most of our stuff were in boxes in the basement.  I eventually got a storage space, which came in handy when I was thrown out.  Now, they are the only clothes I have.

31. Have you ever purged your clothes? 

August 1983.  I was going to be a MAN, and men don't wear dresses.  I fell into a deep depression and couldn't understand why.

32. Given the opportunity would you take a job where you could work as either your male or female self at any time? 

Again, not applicable.  I'm full time.  

33. Do you paint your natural finger nails or use fake ones? 

I have some fake nails for special occasions, but usually natural. 

34. What Color do you like to use on your finger nails? 

Brilliant red, but lately I've done others.

35. Do you keep your toe nails painted? 

No, except when I treat myself to a pedicure.  

36. What color nail polish do you like best on your toes? 

Usually brilliant red.  I'm dull.

37. If you wear make up what part do you find the hardest to learn how to do? 

Eyes- specifically fake lashes.  I've never been able to do those.

38. Have you ever had a professional make over? 

Yes. Mostly from the legendary Amanda Richards, but not all.  I love makeovers.  

39. Have you ever worn a Bikini or other swimsuit? 

Yes 

40. Do you own or have you ever worn a Wedding Dress?

Yes, at an Amanda Richards photoshoot.  

41. Do you own a wig or use your own hair? 

My own hair, but I may have to go back to wigs due to hair loss. I still have wigs.

42. How often are you able to dress up during the week? 

24/7/365.  I paid the price.

43. How many Blouses do you own? 

No idea.

44. How many Skirts do you own? 

No idea.

45. How many Dresses do you own? 

No idea.

46. How many bra’s do you own? 

Over 20.  I should go through them... 

47. How many pair’s of panties do you own? 

Around 20.  Maybe 5 shapewear. 

48. What is your favorite color for lingerie? 

Red or black.  My daily ones are usually black or buff.

49. Pantythose or Thigh Highs? 

I don't have occasion to wear them, but I prefer pantyhose. 

50. Favorite place to shop for misc items? 

I prefer to shop local.

51. Favorite place to shop for Make up? 

Ulta is the only place in town.

52. Favorite place to shop for clothes? 

Torrid, Long Tall Sally

53. Favorite place to shop for Lingerie? 

I usually get that from online as there's few place around here.

54. Best time you can think of spent dressed up? 

Two come immediately to mind.  Lisa's affirmation party, and the Debutante Ball that friends threw for me on my one-year transition anniversary.

Debutante ball

55. If you could have the ultimate day out where would you go? 

A day on vacation with my wife, daughter, and Linda.  Somewhere fun.  

56. Funniest thing that’s ever happened to you while Crossdressing? 

I've had many fun times with my dear friends.  I can't think of one right now.  If I do, I'll add to this.  

57. Do you have pierced ears or wear clip ons?

Pierced.  It was one of the first things I did.  2009?  2010?

58. Do you wear heels? 

When I have an occasion, yes. 

59. How long did it take you to learn how to walk in heels? 

I used to practice this.  Many hours.

 

60. How many pairs of heels do you own? 

Maybe 10. My day to day are flats.

61. Name an article of Women’s clothing you can’t live without? 

Bras. I mean, duh.

62. What is one article of Women’s clothes you don’t like? 

Tops that bare the midriff.

63. Do you sleep in a nightie?

Occasionally.  

64. What type of panties do you like? 

I love the silky ones, but most of mine are cotton.

65. What is your Favorite color for a dress? 

I'm told that I look good in jewel tones.  I also have a lot of black.

66. When you’re wearing pantyhose, what do you do with your junk? Let it be free or tuck it up and tape? 

I used to have to tuck but not anymore. 

67. What stops you from ‘dressing’ in public? Fear of yourself or of others? 

I was afraid of the consequences... almost all of which happened. 

68. When did you first know your taste in fashion was different from other boys? 

Around 4

69. When did you tell your wife? What was her reaction?

As above, May 3, 2012.  Story HERE. 

70. What would you tell your 5 year old self if you could? 

You aren't alone.  You aren't a freak.  

71. Do you shave your chest and armpits as well as your legs? 

Armpits.  Thanks to HRT, I don't really need to shave my chest.  Thank God, as furry boobs would suck.

72. Have you ever told anyone and they reacted badly? 

Almost everyone when I came out.  Aside from that, not really

73. What was your most surprising reaction when telling someone? 

I call him "R" in my blog.  Details HERE.

74. For most women, taking the bra off at the end of the day and having a good under-boob scratch is the equivalent to a man scratching his nut-sack. Is it the same when you take off your bra? 

Absolutely.  It feels great.  

75. How did you feel the first time you ‘dressed’? 

It felt “right”. It felt correct.  Like I was being me for the first time.

76. How did you feel the last time you ‘dressed’? 

N/A as I'm full time.

Last time I wore makeup- a couple of weeks ago

77. Do you and your wife share clothes? 

Hell no.  She's a petite woman and I'm a fat mess.

78. What do you wish everyone understood about why you dress that no one seems to really get? 

That being transgender is biological- e don't choose this.  And we aren't "groomers" or anything evil.  We just want to live our lives.

79. Do you prefer skirts and dresses or pants? 

Skirts and dresses. I wore pants for 47 years- that's enough.

 

80. How do you hide your 5 o’clock shadow? 

I use Mehron beard cover.  then foundation over that.   

81. If you could go somewhere on the planet where not one soul knew who you were and publicly dress, would you? 

Back in the day, I realized quickly that when I was fully enfemme, I was unrecognizable.  I may be clocked as a cd, but not as [dead name].  I avoided the places I frequented as a guy, though.  The funny part was that the party I'd go to was, for years, in a restaurant right next door to the bookstore where I worked.

82. Do you think you’ll ever tell your children? 

I did- right before I transitioned.  Story HERE.

83. What will you tell your children (if you don’t intend to tell them) and they find out accidentally?  

I never considered that, as she was 6 when I transitioned, and I never dressed as Sophie when she was home, so...

84. Why aren’t women who wear menswear considered cross-dressers? 

Because masculinity is fragile and must be proven almost every day, while femininity is never questioned.  A woman in guy clothes is still a woman- a lesbian is still a woman.  If a guy dresses as a female or is gay, other men consider him effeminate and therefore week and not a man.  There were many studies done on this, like:

Stanaland, A., Gaither, S., & Gassman-Pines, A. (2023). When is masculinity “fragile”? An expectancy-discrepancy-threat model of masculine identity. Personality and social psychology review, 27(4), 359-377. 

85. Where the hell do you find shoes to fit? 

On-line.  Such as HERE, HERE, and HERE among others.

86. What is the longest you have ever dressed for? 

123 months.  Or 536 weeks.  Or 3753 days.  You get the idea. 

87. Do your bra and panties have to match? 

Sometimes.  I don't really try to match them as nobody will see them.

88. Do you find there is a big difference between your male and female self? If so how? 

I was much angrier and in "pain" s a guy.  I felt like a failure as a man- unable to provide for my family, etc.  Now I'm at peace.  Not happy- just at peace.  And that will have to be enough.

89. Does it matter to you if you “Pass” or not? 

It would be great to pass, and I try to as much as possible, but it’s not really realistic.  I like to show cleavage as it's a feminine signal, but...

90. Do you “Pass”?

Hell no.

91. How long does it take you to get all dressed up? With makeup? 

Depends upon how much makeup.  Anywhere from 30- 90 minutes.  Back in the day it took at least 90 minutes. 

92. If you had a chance to remove your desire to Crossdress would you take it? 

Too late now, but yes- absolutely.

93. Do you have any female role models and if so who are they? 

As a crossdresser, they were Linda Lewis, Ana Christina Garcia, Heidi Phox, Kimberly Huddle... so many.  Now?  Sophie Scholl, Jennifer Finney Boylan, Donna Rose, others as well.  And every transgender woman who lives her Truth.  

With Ana Christina Garcia at Keystone Conference 2022

 

94. Do you listen to anything while getting ready? 

Sometimes.  Usually 80s stuff or Grateful Dead

95. What do you hope to accomplish by Crossdressing? 

This is really a stupid question.  If anything, I hoped to find peace and perhaps the companionship of people like myself.  I wanted to feel like I wasn't alone with this.

96. What do you expect crossdressing to teach you about being a woman and the experiences associated with it? 

I don’t pretend to know what a cisgender woman experiences. But I now understand what it means to be without male privilege, and what it means to have rights stripped away.

97. Do your personal or political views change as a result of the experiences of crossdressing? 

No.  I've always been a raging liberal.  However, it's made me more outspoken about rights, like I was in my teens/twenties.

98. Has your views on relationships changed with crossdressing in your life? 

No.  I just miss what I had with wife and daughter.   

99. What was your best Crossdressing experience? 

Aside from what was noted above, I'd say that first look into the mirror at Femme Fever at Sophie.  I didn't recognize myself.

Sophie's first picture

100. What was your worst Crossdressing experience? 

Aside from being thrown out, which wasn't really a "crossdressing" experience...  Easily Lisa's funeral.  I don't know how I survived that month.

Simple Spiderman from the Past

 I grew up in an old row house built in the 1870s I think.  My brother and I shared a room on the top floor, which had small windows and a small wooden closet, painted white.  It was very hot in the summer and freezing in the winter as we used a wood stove for heat, and it was on the first floor.  

Sometime when I was very young, my mum cut out a picture of Spiderman from a comic, and taped it to the closet wall, where it joined some other things long forgotten.  I figured I was around three at that time, so 1969. Somehow, that Spiderman lasted for a long time- the tape never failed, and it was never ripped down by anyone's temper or play.  

The Spiderman cut-out

In the early 90s, my brother moved out and I knew it was a matter of time until I did as well.  The room we'd shared as toddlers had become his and was now vacant.  Spiderman still waited, taped to the closet- the sole decorative survivor.  I decided to keep it.  I removed it as carefully as I could, losing only part of his leg, and put it in my scrapbook, where it remains.

The other day, I was searching through that scrapbook (for a color version of my high school graduation photo, if you must know), and saw Spiderman, still there decades after I put him in the book.  I looked at him.  Now, over time, I've become knowledgeable about comic books and comic book artists, but I wasn't sure who did the art.  I knew it wasn't Steve Ditko, as he had already left the book by then.  Could it be John Romita Sr?  Possibly, but it didn't look like his work.  In all these decades, I never knew who drew that Spiderman (or which Spiderman issue it came from.)  

Fortunately, these days there's the Internet.  I'm on a Facialbook group called Marvel Comics 1961 to 1989.  I figured that if ANYONE would be able to answer the conundrum of who drew that Spiderman, they would.  So, I took a photo of Spiderman in my scrapbook, cropped it, and posted it with my question.  

Wow- did they ever!  Within two hours, someone not only figured out the artists, but knew the issue and everything.  The artists were John Romita Sr. (pencils) and Mickey Demeo (Mike Esposito) (inks), though some people think that Esposito may have done some of the penciling too.  The picture was from Amazing Spider Man issue #83, page 19, third panel: published April 1, 1970.  When asked how he found it so fast, said Archivist wrote "I just scroll digital copies. We knew the time frame so I started at ASM 90 and went backwards."  (I'd name the guy, but as I don't have his permission, I won't.) 

Spiderman #83, page 19.  No challenge to copyright intended.

Spiderman #83, cover.  No challenge to copyright intended.

So, assuming the comic was recent when mum cut this out, I was three years old, and that picture is, as of this writing, 53 years old.   I don't remember anything about this story (go figure), but I was reading by this time.  I read the issue summary, and it rang no bells.  Maybe someday when I have spare money, I'll hunt down this back issue at a comic store local to wherever I am then.  You know, out of curiosity.

To this day, I don't remember why mum cut out this picture and hung it.  I liked Spiderman as did my brother, but he wasn't my favorite (that would be Superman.)  Maybe the issue was pretty beat up (by two toddlers) and mum was throwing it out, and to assuage my brother and I, she cut out the picture.  I don't know, and with mum gone these two years now, I can't ask her.  

I have very few fragments remaining from my early childhood.  In fact, I think this may be the last surviving trace.  But there it is- taped inside a scrapbook I filled (almost) decades ago.  Knowing a little more about it answers some questions, yes.  

I wish all questions could be answered so "easily."

Be well.