Firstly, long hair. When I was living with my father, late single digits to early teens, I was never allowed to have my hair long, if it got too much past a certain point my dad would give me (and my brother) some money and tell us to go down to the barber shop and get it cut, saying "You look like a bum/hippy/girl, go get your hair cut". So when I finally was able to get the courage to stand against him and move out and with my mom I started wearing my hair long. She allowed more freedom with the length, still I just looked like a guy with long hair. But then, I hadn't yet grasped that I wanted to be a girl, despite showing signs of it years before that. Girls loved my hair, had to have at least one girl that always wanted to touch it when I was in school, even a female teacher aide, which didn't sit well with me (felt like I was being fondled).
One day, in my late teens, I was in the shower, feeling really bad about myself, got a shaver and started shaving my legs. I was like "Ooh", and how different they looked and felt so soft, smooth to the touch, and my legs felt like they could actually breath for once, (I had some pretty hairy legs). I felt shy about it afterwards, like wondering if anyone was watching me, or that anyone in my family would know. But I was fine, all I ever wore were jeans, all the time, so I would be able to continue shaving my legs without fear of being found out. Some men do shave their legs, so really why should it have been that big a deal? Because I did it for a different reason, I wanted them to look like girl's legs. I rarely showed off my legs growing up once I hit puberty, jeans at all occasions with the exception of going to the beach, and that was a time that I barely ever took my shirt off (because I didn't feel right, like I was showing off nakedness to be embarrassed about--I had no idea why it bothered me to show my nipples). I started shaving my face as well after that. Plucking came later.
Hard to see much in that picture but if you can see the hair, well, before I shaved my legs that first time (several years after this photo) they were more hairier than this time at the beach. I think I was 15, maybe 16 in this picture.
Got that hand on the hip action going on there.
A few years older, and more manly. Don't be fooled by the smile, I was always taught to smile for the camera (plus my sister's first born baby was tightly grasping my finger, I was amazed at how strong his grip was).
I think the second thing I did was getting earrings. My family (mom, brother, sister and her first child) were going up to Massachusetts for a family reunion thing, I had to stay behind because my job (toy store) wouldn't let me take a couple days off. No big deal, because I had some things in mind for myself, and them being gone all weekend would allow me the time and freedom to do them. But before they left I had told my mom that I had been wanting to get my ears pierced. She wondered why, but then figured, well, lots of guys have their ears pierced, so no big deal, just told me to make sure to do the correct ear otherwise I could be mistaken for being gay. I told her that I was going to be doing both ears. It surprised her, but she was okay with it. I walked to the mall the next day and got them pierced at Spencer's, didn't feel a thing, and I had a nice, simple but pretty set of studs (later when I got the chance I'd gradually work my way into prettier more feminine ones).
Also during that weekend with the apartment to myself, when I wasn't working I was trying on my mom's and sister's clothes (my sister was really too skinny then, and my mom short, petite, so there weren't very many things for me to wear that I could get my taller lean frame into). It felt nice to finally, for the first time in my life to dress like a girl. Even though I didn't look like one wearing them. I kept them on for hours (not too long otherwise they'd smell like me and get too worn looking), actually this one dress in particular that my mom had (most of her clothes didn't really fit me as I was too tall and she had a little bit of weight to her) that fit me nicely, like it was meant for me (there is a picture of my mom wearing in somewhere). just doing my everyday stuff that I did inside, watch tv, play video games, whatever. I felt free for the first time in my life. But, it was short lived. Once I knew they'd be coming home (mom called, said they were on their way--I had at least 8 hours left by myself), I hesitantly removed whatever clothes I was wearing and made sure everything was put back as it was to go back into hiding again, it was very disheartening. Actually hurt me more so after that because I got a taste of freedom (even though still confined to the house), and from that time on it stayed with me, that longing to be a girl, yet still some time would pass before I could actually come out to my family.
Another thing I did that weekend, my sister's husband also stayed behind, well I was thinking of going out to see a movie, so I called him up and asked if he'd like to go with me to see The Lost World: Jurassic Park II. We went to Skyline Mall (later replaced with a Target), got there early, played some arcades for a little bit, then went in to see the movie. He thought we were just hanging out like brother-in-laws, and in all appearances we were, but somewhere inside of me I was exploring, trying to find myself, as yet, I didn't really know much about transsexuals, just whatever the Jerry Springer show (and others like it) told me (not good stuff), so I thought maybe I may've been gay afterall. I wanted to see if there were any kind of attraction there for him. Before that, sure I thought girls were pretty, cute, sexy, but I wasn't attracted to any of them (guess I kind of admired them as another girl would--but I never lingered long on looking at anyone ever, nor any other feelings), but I had remembered being slightly attracted to a friend of mine back when I was in the 9th grade (he was kind of yummy, so much so I felt I had to leave the poor bastard wondering why I just stopped being friends). I don't think he was into the movie as much as I was, seemed to be unsettled, tired because it was a late showing (because it was cheaper), but some screwy part of me deep inside was all giddy over sitting there watching a movie with a guy beside me, like we'd actually gone out on a date or something. He of coarse was oblivious to it.
Lets see, what else. Oh, the nail polish! Came out that I had wanted to paint my nails, okay mom thought, some guys do, but not any of that black stuff, only clear she said, fine by me (I'd have preferred red or pink), I'll work in some color at a later date. So I started polishing my nails. I did a really poor job of it at first, thank goodness I started out with clear, but it made me feel so girly, even if they weren't colorful, they were nice and smooth and glossy, so pretty. Made prettier that I tended to rarely cut my fingernails, so with long glossy nails upon long, kind of pretty hands, even though kind of big for girl's hands, I got lots of admiration from other girls.
Everything else I think came later, once I was out to my family, eyebrow shaping, plucking hairs, lipstick, very basic female tops and jeans, everything was very gradual over the coarse of years that I can't even recall how long it was. Much happened during that time, lots of anger, frustration, hurting myself (trying to cut my balls out), denial--even completely shaving my head one time (my mom had a fit when she saw me, couldn't believe I had shaved off all that pretty hair), and one day I was home, laying on my bed with a knife to my throat, trying to muster up the courage to end my freakish existence, my brother came home and saw me and did the best thing he ever did for me (I just started crying now thinking back to that time, sometimes I wish I still had him in my life, but overall he usually wasn't a very nice person and got worst as he got older, taking almost every trait our father had), he got on the phone and called the operator and asked who to contact for help, was given a number which led to me getting therapy some days later. But when my therapist told me that I had to live full time as a woman for 1 year before I could be given a letter saying I was ready for hormones, I came out full time right away, no holds back. This was that moment I was waiting for.
I really do think shaving my head was the craziest thing I had ever done to myself.
Sitting like a dude, eh, give me time, mannerism isn't something so easily mastered, certainly not learned overnight.
Uh yeah, makes me cringe seeing me like that (and I was seriously depressed then, I think I was losing weight from it), I was not girly at all, long hair and make-up was about it.
Voice, mannerism, everything that I had to learn to live more convincingly as a woman came immediately with full time. It was awkward and scary, but as strongly as I needed this, it gave me more courage than I ever thought I'd have (sometimes I forget this).
Way too rigged stance, keep working at it, you'll be fine.
Cute, but some hormones will do her some good. Those veiny arms still bother me looking at them.
So there you have it, summed up as completely as I could muster. It has been a long journey, a not so easy road, but one that I'm glad that I took.
Finally, I got estrogen flowing through my body.
