I will try this again. I don't know what happened last time, why it did not post. Not even sure if I remember how I said everything. It took several hours and tore me up. But here I go. I hope I don't violate any rule but i know you will tell me if I do.
First off, I am a writer. I am not published yet, except for my life story years ago. But I write, and when I write, I have something to say and it gets long. Some have said I have diarrhea of the pen. So, I apologize for the length, but I am 63 and that is alot of events to cram into an intro, but I want to give a clear picture of who I am and how I got here. So, here I go.
I was born July 5, 1954 as a male child. My mother did take DES to prevent a miscarriage. She and I both believe it had a lot to do with the problems I had in my life. My mother was my father's second wife and he kept cheating on her and getting drunk. They argued a lot. When I was 4 they were divorced. My brother was born in March of my fifth year. I was very jealous of him because he took the attention off me. I used to hurt him. For his part, he loved and idolized his big brother. Still does.
The effect of the divorce on me showed up in Kindergarten. I could not sit still, or cut a straight line, or color within the lines, or cooperate with my peers. The school psychologist recommended I repeat Kindergarten and my mom to enroll me in Child Guidance, that days version of Childrens Mental Health. I was seeing a therapist twice a week. I was outed at school by one of my peers, whose mother couldn't keep her mouth shut. It spread through school like wildfire that I was M.R. I lived that label for six school years. Finally, in seventh grade I began to believe what I had to think and say had as much value as the next person and whoever thought otherwise had the problem. But I remained in my own little world. I had few friends because I held on to them so tightly that I drove them away. The ones that seemed able to tolerate me were the girls. So I was basically raised by my mom and spent most of my time in the company of girls. So my perspective was very feminine. I tended to look at things from how it felt and how did it affect me, and how did everything affect my friends. Would they approve. The only male influence came later.
While we were all trying to live the new after-divorce reality my father was killed in a plane crash, right after Kennedy's assassination and right before my tenth birthday. Mom was a wreck. We had been trying to systematically paint the inside of the house and it all stopped at the bathroom. We were not able to resume for five years.
Mom was a teletype operator for Western Union by day and a waitress in a nightclub by night. She would bring guys home as a companion for her and a father figure for us. The problem was the guy always brought beer, which mom could not drink because it made her bloat. So she would have bourbon and drink highballs, which became her drink of choice when she had trouble raising two boys. I would say the only thing I learned about men is they hit their women, they would never be there when you needed them and they were only after one thing from women. I hated men, and I later found out this was causing a frustration in me because I hated myself for being born one.
As I said, I saw things from a feminine lens, through my mom's eyes. Whenever I was upset or just because I needed it, I would go into the living room closet and stand in my mom's furry and silky coats. I loved the smell and feel of them. Calmed me right down. Still does.
By adolescence I had my own room where my mom's old dresses were hung. I used to try them on and enjoy them. Som of the gowns I would masturbate while wearing. She caught me one time putting on her pantyhose. All she said was "Fold them neatly when your done, and put them back where you found them." That was mom. She never hid her nudity around us. She said it wasn't something to be ashamed of. Mom was cool before the demon drink got her.
Soon I had my own stash of pantyhose and I had nightgowns in my closet that I wore to bed. As a boy back then mom had me wear plaid green and plaid blue pants with the matching solid short sleeve shirt. I had to wear special oxfords because I had flat feet. Hideous. To this day I hate plaid and green, especially puke green.
In school the label stuck and people thought me weird. The girls that did like me only liked me as a friend, nothing more. Even the one girl I fell in love with in high school that turned out to be lesbian once told me that if she was not lesbian and was looking for a boyfriend I would be the last person she would consider. So I never went to prom or had a date. I just kept to myself and tried to deal with mom's drinking.
While in high school I accepted Jesus into my life and have been walking with Him since. It is my faith that has brought me through the deep valleys. I moved out of the house after high school and stayed in a house that was a ministry house that brought in the homeless to give them a warm bed and food, while introducing them to Jesus. I stayed and joined that ministry and after a few months went to their school in Oregon. I also worked in Washington in apple orchards and tree yards. I had a short stint in Kodiak, Alaska, where I worked in the canneries. I took a couple of weeks to work with ServiceMaster in the J.C. Penney's in Fairbanks. Finally, we headed back down to Oregon to finish the school. After school I went to Houston, via a short stay in Denver, to be the cook for 20 guys. They all worked on a construction site as the cleanup crew. I finally got homesick and went home.
Throughout my entire time in that ministry I always made friends with the girls and had much in common with them. The guys were harder. I was not into sports or cars. I did not hunt or fish. I was not competitive. Some of their actions I thought were childish. I definitely obsess over which girl had the best body. So I spent most of my time with the girls.
When I got home, mom was still drinking and so I moved back into the local ministry house and began to get serious about one of the new girls in the house. The pastor saw the problem and suggested I go to the South Lake Tahoe house and work in the Harrah's club as dishwasher. I could make a lot of money to send home. So I went to SLT, by way of a short stay in Sacramento, where I befriended another girl. When I got to SLT there was a house and a coffeehouse attached. We drove to Harrah's and worked mostly as dishwashers. After a time I enrolled in their Food Prep Program and learned about cooking from the Sous Chef. The fast pace was too much for me and I went back to dishwashing. I met a girl that was not of our group that attached herself to me. She had me put on her dishwashing crew. Everywhere I went, she went. The pastor did not like it and embarrassed us. He knew I had a problem with spending all my time with the girls and saw that as an imbalance in my life. We got tired of being treated that way and left. I asked her to marry me. She was the first one to like me for mare that a girlfriend. So we went to mom's and then got married. We moved to Kodiak, my favorite place. When there was not product in the canneries there was no job. We lived in tent at first, in the cold, rainy weather. We finally found a trailer to live in, but the refrigerator had to come out for repairs, so it was always cold. No one liked coming over because they had to keep on their coats. My wife had me wear her flannel gowns to bed to stay worm. She did not know about my affinity for womens clothes.
We finally moved into a room in a house downstairs from the landlord and his daughter. One of the times we were waiting for work and we were doing nothing at home, his daughter and my wife decided to have some fun and do a makeover...on me. They dressed me in one of my wife's dresses and did my makeup and hair, spritz perfume in the appropriate places, gave me a pair of white pumps to wear and a purse to carry, showed me how to walk and led me outside, where they took pictures. After that, the die was cast. I wanted more. I looked for any opportunity to wear something of hers when she was gone. One time I fell asleep and she caught me in her clothes. I told her my story. She was repulsed by the whole thing but agreed to stay with me and help me with my problem.
We finally moved back to California and had our oldest boy. One day she was gone and I was in her clothes asleep. I had the note on the door telling her I was naked, our code for my habit. She was at a friend's house and sent the friend's young cousin to get something and the little minx saw the note and opened the bedroom door. When she saw me she woke me and began asking me if I liked dressing this way. Did I want to be a girl? Let me do your hair and nails and makeup and you and your wife and I can go out and have a girls night out. She was so excited, she got me excited. My wife, however, was harder to convince. But finally she consented and we all went out to the now closed mall after hours and just had a blast. Well, the girl and I did. My wife did not. She was repulsed by the whole thing. Her repulsion was so strong I finally tried to suppress it.
We moved again and had our second son when our oldest was 1. Our relationship had been reduced to what we had in bed. She did not want to talk about her shortcomings and I was tired of always being the one to change. She basically had her life and I had mine. Two months after our daughter was born with a cleft palate we got into a loud argument. We had to be there, at least in the building to monitor her 24/7 and it was taking its toll on both of us. The police were called and I went to jail. When they searched me they found my pockets filled with candy canes, because I love them year-round. They questioned me some more and found out I was the door security for the building during the day. They did a door to door check and found this one girl that I tried to help one day. She lived in the building, but this one day she came in from outside crying, but she didn't go upstairs and kept looking out the front window. Her face was starting to turn red so I took a candy cane out because it always made me feel better and gave it to her and had her come sit in my lap to try to calm her. Finally she said what happened at school and why she was home and she was to wait with me because her mom was on the way. She seemed to calm down so I put her down and her mom came and they went upstairs. Somehow this got all construed to be child molestation and I was accused of two more counts from girls in the building I did not even know. I was convicted and sentenced 5 years. My wife had to give up our daughter to social services to help her because she could not monitor her by herself and take care of the boys. She came once with the boys and her sister to see me and when they returned a social worker was there to do a visit. She took away both boys because of neglect. Later, they terminated her parental rights because she didn't make mandatory appointments. All of them were adopted except my youngest son. He was placed in a home for mentally disturbed children. I did not see or hear from them for 20 years.
While I was in prison my maternal uncle died, my paternal grandmother died and my mom died. My wife hooked up with her old boyfriend and had twins. She wrote to me and confessed this, asking for forgiveness.
When I did get out I had to register as a sex offender. That is a label that has kept me from many a job. I tried to reconcile with my wife, but she went ballistic when I mentioned that at least it was good that the children were all in Christian foster homes. She called my faith b.s., said she only said she was Christian in SLT to get me to stop talking to her about Jesus. I was floored. She went and found the building security and had him tell me to leave. My wife was done talking to me.
After that I just concentrated on what I needed to do to survive and serve out the parole. My first job was security for Pan Am. I finished the job and received my pay two weeks before I received the letter telling me I could not work security because of my background check. Oops.
My next job was installing hot tubs. Finally I got a salaried position of kennel manager for a pet store, and I found a church. I met a woman and her daughter at church. The mother was thirteen years older than me and the daughter was my brother's age. The woman needed a homecare worker and hired me. She used a manual wheelchair and could walk a little. She had fell on her knee and shattered the bone. So we got to know each other and helped each other. She helped me with a mother's love that I needed because I missed mine. I helped her be needed at a time when her husband of nineteen years and her daughters all decided they did not need her. After a very public four year affair her husband divorced her and married the other. She helped me divorce my wife. She helped me to be a proper woman. She had raised two daughters, now she was raising one more. We married after a few years. We went to college and she took Accounting and Business. I took Nursing. I later changed to Word Processing. We had great plans to open an umbrella business of Desktop publishing to help finance a yarn shop and several other small businesses. It was a great plan.
The first thing that happened is she had a D and C. Then she had to have a full hysterectomy. She came out of that surgery a diabetic. After a few years she slipped on some water on the floor and broke her leg above the shattered knee. She came out of surgery and we were on the way home when she became so sick we went back to the hospital. She had a peptic ulcer. More surgery and she came home. For three months all she could eat was Ensure. She lost 95 pounds, something she had been trying to do since the birth of her youngest daughter. The weight loss was great. The stress to her heart wasn't. A year later she graduated with a degree in Accounting and a minor in Small Business, with 13 certificates. She was already and English Major. She could take an outline and write a 500 word essay then reduce it to a 100 word paper. Shortly after that she had a slight stroke and couldn't program the microwave. She died in the lost week of September 1998. After a year I had to move on. Too many memories. We had been together 13 years.
She helped me through my HRT and transition. We were officers in college and senators for the students. We were officers in the Trans club that helped me. I was reliving each moment every time I went by one of our places. So I moved to another town four hours away, became homeless, found a church and became involved with the NoOn22 campaign, which was being run mainly by lesbians. I became the phonebank captain and recruited people at my church. There was a couple that were really dedicated. She seemed to like me and attached herself to me every chance she got. I began to get to know her.
She was an illegitimate daughter of her mentally ill mother and a married man. She was raised by her grandmother and a foster mom. Then she was raised by a step dad that married her mom. He treated her like a dog, throwing her into the garage when she complained about her bedroom light being turned out. Later he raped her, two different times. When she reported him they put her in a group home. She finally came back home, but didn't like it. She finally married a man that beat her when she refused to have sex because of the rape trauma, or if he felt she wasn't making sense. So she left him while he was in jail for bad checks. She went with some friends outside of town to another city and dumped her there. A man took her in, but others there raped and beat her for sex. She finally made it to town and moved in with a guy from school. This is where I came in and she invited me to live with them. When I got there I knew they needed homecare. So I became their worker and got paid by the state. It wasn't long we made a commitment to each other and got our own place, with her roommate 2 doors down. When the church clerk was going to retire she wanted to go to Oregon to convert her family home into a retreat and she wanted us to help her. However, when we got there she became a slave driver. It was an old home and had water running down from the mountain. We had to carry bucket of water into the house for wash water and fill gallon jugs to use as well. Her cousins helped us escape her and we took a bus to another town where we moved in with another Transwoman, her son and daughter, and another Transwoman. We rented a room from her. She took us to several transgender events and we participated in LGBT events too. She took us to parties where alternative lifestyles were welcome and we learned about sub/Dom relationships. We soon became subs to our landlord, who became our Mistress. Whenever there was a party I was encased in leather or neoprene, handcuffed, given a collar, blindfolded and led to the party with a leash. It was very exhilarating.
I soon became overwhelmed and needed some space, so we found an apartment for my SO to live until I could get a handle on things. After that things kinda went from bad to worse. The good was I was taken to Kinkfest and saw more wonderful things. There were corsets, more leather and caning. They even had human pets and human furniture. Some of it was a little over the top, but I agreed to a caning and soon discovered I have a high threshold for pain. I had a blast with Mistress. The changes came when Mistress's children moved out and there were two rooms open. I took the basement and my SO moved into our old room above me. Mistress took the upstairs and we rented out her old room to a lesbian couple. One of them was Wiccan. Her mate had a daughter that came to stay over for a while aand the Wiccan had no place to go. So Mistress gave her a choice. She could sleep with her upstairs or she could sleep with me downstairs. She chose me. We got to know each other and when she heard about my daughter and that she was actually around the same age, she said she thought of me as a second mom. So that is what she called me....Mom. She became my daughter. She went to work, helping me with my wardrobe and giving me an overhaul. I began to really trust her. All I can say is, she saw me coming. At one point her mate left her and another moved into her place. This one was very clever and manipulating. Soon some of my daughters ex-girls came over and got to know us. There was much sex between the girls. While we were all gone one of her exes came in and cleaned us out. Mistress was livid and told my daughter and friend they had until the end of the month to leave. My daughter had a muscle weakening disease and the other had been beaten and hurt her foot. She was in a wheelchair. I couldn't let them live on the streets without help. So I defied Mistress and told her I would be leaving too. I also realized I wanted my SO with me. I had sorted through things and realized she was the love of my life. So we all left and lived homeless for many months. We finally got an apt, but the bossy one's mouth got us kicked out. While we were homeless again my SO had had it and went back home.
After that I kinda became a basket case and felt like my daughter was going to have to put me in a home. We ended up staying with another pair of lesbians from our church and they helped me see how my daughter and her mate were using me. I was really hurt. To have someone I hac come to love as my own use me like that really hurt and I thought I was losing my daughter all over again. We soon came up with a plan to get rid of them and move to another city. Once we did I contacted my SO and explained what happened and apologized to her and she came back. We stayed with the other couple we knew until they started trying to control us too. We just left and escaped to California. We finally rented our own apartment and lived there six years. We attended the same college I went to with my second wife to take pool therapy classes. My SO had fallen and injured her knee and had to be in a wheelchair. We needed a walker, but by the time we got one her osteoarthritis she has from a teen was making it impossible to walk. Plus she had put on too much weight sitting in the chair. So we went for the pool classes. She had also become diabetic, to which I though, "here we go again."
We were ok except I began to see how my lifestyle was making it hard for us to have a life. California had passed a new bill or budget and now I had to go by my birth name and gender on my ID until I could have my surgery, which didn't look promising since I couldn't raise the money. So I had to make a sacrificial decision in order to relieve some of the tension in our lives. I decided to stop being me and live male. That was in 2011. I had been on HRT for 19 yrs. I had the 'girls' to prove it. Still do.
Anyway we got evicted when we tried to help this guy and he threatened us with gang violence if we made him leave. So he brought his whole family and held us prisoner in our own home. The property management evicted us all. We became homeless again, except we couldn't because my SO was diagnosed with severe sleep apnea and could not sleep without a mask, or she could not breathe. So we ended up with her in hospital and me right there with her until they moved her to a rehab facility. They found us an Independent Living Home. Three homes later and we were paying twice as much rent for less space.After a while the home developed bedbugs. The owners trying to avoid the eviction process decided to just move us to another property. What we didn't know is they sold the property a day before they moved us. The new owner came in three weeks later and told us we had to leave. We took what we could carry to the bus and went back to our home city. We spent the night in front of a church with other homeless. In the morning we went back to hospital and this time we were there from Thanksgiving through New Years. Finally, January 26, 2016 they found a bed in a healthcare facility and moved her. They told me hands off. I did not have to wash her or medicate her. They had staff to do that. After the fifth day I find her in the same robe. She has not been washed or medicated. So I grab a washpan and I do the job. Then I have her call her sister and see if the offer of a room in her boyfriend's place is still available and can he drive his van down to pick us up. So we have been here since February 2016 and still trying to get our own place. The family home was foreclosed on so everyone is here too. There is fighting and arguing and slamming doors and barking dogs all the time. My SO has already been in the hospital here recently and they found an enlarged heart and sent her home on oxygen. After all the years of her living in fear of the guy finding her, she finally is divorced from her husband since November 20. We are to be married on the same day we made commitments to each other-February 24, 2018, the 18th anniversary. We have been together 17 years and I am afraid she is going to die before we can make it legal!
I have been doing alot of thinking about what happens when it is just me again. I mean we want to go together. That is our request, our wish. But what if I am left? What am I going to do? Since 1985 homecare is all I have done, and I am almost too old to do that. I would probably go on Social Security and go into senior housing. The more I contemplate it I remember a fantasy I have always had.
I want to live as a cat. Ever since Kinkfest and the role play I saw, I have had this fantasy of being a cat. What I want is a Mistress that loves cats and animals, that is rich with an estate to take me in,
Anyway, that is my wish for the rest of my life. And this is the end of my introduction.
