Well, I've just been dying to communicate with like minds for a while now. Allow me to relate my tale.
I'm not really sure how far back it began, though I'm confident it's something that's always been there. I was always a social child, but I had the most awful tendancy to tell absoloutely outrageous lies about the most bizarre things (my favorite was to tell everyone I had an imaginary older sister whose name would be whatever my favorite female name was at the time.) I might have fiddled with ladies clothes a bit, but I don't remember. I probably didn't. I did, however, have a few homosexual experiences when I was around 9-10. Those experiences served to haunt me for a while, as one of my best friends in the 6th grade filled my malleable and naivette mind with visions of fire and brimstone. A nice enough kid, but he was raised by a couple of bonafide bible-thumpers. He's a lead singer in a death metal band now, though that's digression.
Long story short: I understood that I wanted to be a woman from a very early age. I liked girly things, I liked girly clothes, I liked speaking in a girly voice. However, I also understood that embracing these things would make my social life Hell. So I repressed and repressed and repressed. I created the perfect act. My true feminine pysche backed into a subconcious corner, making way for a testosterone fueled, handsome, go-getting young man with the whole world in front of him. The act was flawless, really. My love life was nice very early on. Girls fell in love with that confident, intelligent, generous man... and then shied away from him when he got comfortable and started acting a bit too "lovey". That was the issue; it was just an act. Any time I felt socially comfortable with someone, the girly-bits came out and about. So I'd just repress some more. Penetrating a woman, an act I hesistated to get around to, never felt right to me. I didn't like it at all, and that fact bothered me quite a bit.
Meanwhile, the charade caused a mental rift the be formed between the masculine front (which was necessary for my survival in good ol' boy central California) and the true feminine self. I began to think I was crazy, because these twin siblings (Miles and Blair) were me. I would write to myself. Hold mental conversations with myself. Argue internally with myself. Blair was angry and resentful of Miles' neglecting her existence. Miles was scared of what would happen to Blair if she revealed herself. It went on like this, up and down, for a good long while. Here I am today, 22 years old, and I've just recently realized that I'm transgendered (no way!)
All of my friends and family know, since I've told them recently. I have to say, I feel badly, because I have it pretty posh compared to a lot of you girls. When I told my dad, he didn't even blink an eye. He just smiled, hugged me and said "I always knew you were trying to be someone you're not." He's a real king among men, and I'm lucky, so lucky to have him as my father. All my close guy friends are sweethearts, and promise to take care of me through my transition. My girlfriends can't wait to help me with my hair and clothes. I have it very good. Heck, I'm even only three hours from San Francisco. I'm grateful for everything I have in life, and mostly, I'm grateful for this forum being here. I want as many good, trustworthy friends as I can get. You can never have too many, I say.
It's good to be here. Hope there's room! I talk a lot.
~ Blair
