Okay.
There are things a person wants or needs to do in their lives.
Things that hurt no one.
But someone says:
"That's sick! You're obviously a pervert!"
So you don't do it.
You want to.
You keep wanting to, but you never do.
From five years on, I have found women attractive.
I have also found women's clothes attractive.
Times I felt I wanted to be femme.
The unrealized half of everyone , that but for a single gene never is realized.
In male female. In female, male.
The personality traits that exist, but are seldom admitted to.
I was stressed to the extreme.
No job.
Living in a cabin on a lake with no running water and an outhouse.
There was a need to vent.
To do something I would never have done.
I had no idea what.
I went to a rummage sale on Bag Day and I was looking around.
Lots of stuff going who knows where if not sold.
My "action" manifested itself, and I began to fill a couple of sacks with various articles of woman's clothing.
I was, in fact curious, and desired to satisfy something that had always been there for as cheap as possible.
I was living 13 miles away from everyone and everything.
This was the perfect opportunity.
I got back to the cabinn with my purchases and began to try them on.
They felt good.
Not in a sexual way, but in an emotional and tactile way.
I began to experiment further. Deciding to see how I would "feel" at certain points.
Moving to a place with running water allowed me to shave parts of my body I have never done.
The feeling was awesome. Not only physical, but mental. They didn't even seem to reflect me any longer.
But, I still didn't quite understand what was going on.
It wasn't until I began to discuss this with a pre-op transgendered friend of mine that a piece fell linto place.
She was viewing this whole experiment aas being the birth of an alter ego. The femme side of me manifesting.
I would have resisted this even two months ago. But I was (at this point) more then ready to listen.
Betty wanted to to "name" my female incarnation. She kept coming up with variations on Neil.
None of them made sense.
For some reason, I just commented that her name was Shelley. No idea where it came from. I don't hear voices in my head. It just seemed right.
So, Shelley is real to me, and she teaches me different things. Things any girl should know. Things I was utterly clueless about.
I needed to do this for many years.
Thanks for reading.
I alternate between bouts of euphoria and confusion.
Spinning in freefall.
No idea where I will wind-up.
No support groups around me.I love Shelley.
I am Shelley.
Isolation brings changes.
Sometimes, changes brings revelation.
