It was in 1982... I was such an innocent and IGNORANT young thing... that was the year I moved to Denver. Where I met Lily.
Lily worked in a shop wearing filmy belly dance costumes. She was extremely feminine and gentle and spoke with a very soft high-pitched voice. She stood about 6'2". Her feet were about a size 12 and her makeup failed to hide the dark follicles on her large jaw. Her short curly hair was just beginning to grow out.
Now in retrospect I can understand she was just getting started and was going through perhaps the most difficult phase of all. She was the first trans woman I ever met (or rather, the first one I ever read), and I even though I knew nothing about transgender then, as soon as I saw Lily I understood what she was trying to do. This made me reflect that I wanted to do the same, but seeing her remarkably unpassable appearance was all the excuse I needed to convince myself that it was impossible... so with her image in my memory I kept burying my own desire to transition for many more unhappy years...
Now I understand better how my judgment of Lily was unfair and that after hormones, electrolysis, and experience at living fulltime, she would have blossomed into a beautiful woman over time. I left Denver long ago and have often wondered what became of her. Thanks to her I first crystallized the idea in my mind that I wanted to transition, but at the same time I used her unfortunate looks as an excuse to deny it to myself. Mostly I told myself it was our large feet that precluded transition, because I thought nothing could be done to feminize the feet. (I was wrong.) I could have blossomed into a beautiful woman myself long ago if I hadn't kept telling myself it was impossible.
If you see Lily, give her my love.
