The earliest things I remember regarding my condition were when I was about 7 years old. I grew up on a ranch with a single mother who worked full time. In the evenings when Mom would be at work I'd have to do chores and feed the horses either with my little Sister or by myself. Instead of putting on my shoes, which required more effort, I'd simply slip on a pair of my Mom's pumps. I much rather preferred them to my boring boy's sneakers or cowboy boots and I just hated having to take them off when I got back into the house. This continued well into my teens. I was wearing those 3" heels one morning while doing chores when one of our Arabian quarter horses ran through the open gate and my little Sister and I chased, then finally caught it. A sheriffs deputy was driving by, saw two small teenagers with a bridle chasing a big horse, he pulled into our driveway just as we were leading it back to the pasture gate, got out of his car and asked us what we were doing. My Sister quickly explained that one of our horses got out and we had to catch it. It was then that I noticed the cop looking at my footwear. He questioned me about my choice of footwear then got into his car and left. I was mortified but not discouraged.
I first fully dressed up and wore makeup when I was about 16...at home, alone. I often cross dressed when I was home alone and first went out into public, cross dressed, when I was 24, in San Francisco and at night. I got busy with a career at the age of 30 and those things decreased far more than I would have liked them to. Now, at age 43, I'm finally making many changes to feminize and ultimately transition. To me transition is nothing more than augmentation to match my appearance with my core self. Gender dysphoria isn't easy and it's real.
