Hi there. I am new here. I am hoping that by introducing myself and telling you a little bit about me, perhaps someone can give me some insight as to where I fit in. I do not think that I am TG. Thanks.
As a young boy, I wanted more than anything to be a girl. It wasn't so much that I thought I was truly a girl inside. Rather, I saw the world of girlhood to be a much more positive place.
I grew up during a time of great tension between the sexes. Between four and six years old, I was much too young to understand the context of this conflict; however it had an impact on my childhood and my life as a whole. In addition to the socio-political times of the day, the lack of a stabile father in life also played an important role in my rejection of masculinity.
During my childhood, my mother had been with several men. She had married three of them, and had children with two. She also had several men with whom she lived, and had a child with one of them. None of these men were role models for me. None of them were in my life very long. No life lessons or rites of male passage were passed on to me. I grew up with no knowledge of sports, mechanical ability, or even how to shave. I recall my embarrassment when asking my barber to tell me how to shave at age 23. Even worse, however, was that none of these men were able to teach me, by example, how to relate to a woman as a man, or to children as a father.
The lessons, which I formed in my young adulthood, were that women were corrupt and untrustworthy. These lessons, however, were formed from the bitterness of my childhood. They were formed from the conclusions I came to believe and were due to the hyperbole and politics of the day. Once embittered during these years, I found any reason to be offended. It wasn't until I was in my 30's, did I begin to see things in a more mature light. Still, many of the coping mechanisms I used in my childhood remain with me today in some form or another.
The memories I have of my childhood are few and unpleasant. The memories I recall most formed my early fear and hatred of being a boy. What I recall most is the taunting. I remember such things as the term "male chauvinist pig". I did not know what a "chauvinist" was, but I did understand that the terms "male" and "pig" used in conjunction was not pleasant. I also recall being told that "a girl can do anything a boy can do and better", which I found particularly hurtful. Lastly, I recall how horrible it was that boys were made of "snips and snails and puppy-dog tails", while girls were made of "sugar and spice and everything nice". Then there were the double standards. I was told that a girl could hit me, but that I could not hit back. In addition, my little sister always seemed to have greater favor with my family. I envied her. I recall how much I wanted to be a girl like her. I recall wearing my sister's clothing in an attempt to become more girl-like, and therefore more acceptable to my family, myself, and to the world.
As I grew older, I learned that most criminals were men. Men die at a younger age. Men were abusive. Men caused war. I witnessed one of my step fathers physically assault my mother. Men were evil. I was a boy, and destine to be a man. However, I was still young enough to believe in magic and the fulfillment of wishes.
I recall, at age nine or ten, wishing upon stars that I might become a girl. My mother stored some of her old clothing in my closet. I was very fond of wearing a pink waitress's dress she wore when I was an infant. There was nothing sexual in it, but I knew it was wrong. Often, in those days, I was alone until 8 p.m., while my mother and second step father worked. I would wear the dress around the house and slip it off by 7pm or so. At school, I often played hopscotch and skipped rope with the girls. I watched them braiding each others' hair, wishing I could join them.
It was just before puberty when I noticed a change in my breasts. I had no idea what puberty was, nor that such changes often happened to boys. They became slightly larger, and tender. I was thrilled that this was a sign that I was changing into a female after all. I was excited, and yet fearful. What would my mother say? What about my friends? I would be a freak! I'd be the boy who changed into a girl! The months passed, as did the swelling and tenderness in my breasts. It was the end of my belief in magic.
As puberty came on, the desire to be more girl-like became more sexual. It was a natural part of hormone production, I suppose. I began covertly cross-dressing, wearing panties to school. I began to have fantasies of being a female in sexual situations. Until this time, I did not know there were anything but male and female relationships. I began to feel very confused about all of this. I began to wonder whether I was gay. However, I did not like boys. Was I a cross-dressing lesbian? Perhaps I was just a pervert? Nothing was clear, and today I still can not make sense of the thoughts I had then. It was all such a mixture.
At age 13, my sister, whose dresses I once wore, committed suicide when she was just eleven. I have my own theories as to why, but no one really knows. However, knowing that the house would be full of mourners, I opted to attend school the next day, which was a mistake. I didn't want to deal with the emotions that would be in the home. I wanted to box it up and put it away. I started wearing a heart shaped locket which belonged to her. There was no mistaking that it was a girl's locket. It made me feel warm and soft. If anyone questioned it, I'd simply say that it had belonged to my deceased sister. Any criticism would soon fade away.
By high school, I was wearing girl's pants and shirts as well. However, aside from the brand name, they seemed very boy-like to me. After all, I didn't want anyone to know. Yet, dressing like a girl made me feel peaceful, happy, comfortable and safe. I began to like the color lavender because it was feminine, but not pink. I subscribed to Young Miss and Victoria magazines. I recall one time that I drew a self portrait of myself as a translucent nude. Inside, was a small girl trying to break free. I learned that people could have a surgical procedure to change their sex. Intrigued, I began to research. To my disappointment, were I to have such an operation I wouldn't become a real girl, just a boy with mutilated genitals and a very expensive prescription bill.
At age 16, I received a letter from my father. It was the first time I had contact with him since infancy. He was reaching out to me and I was only too eager, perhaps even desperate. At age 18, I went to see him and his family. Eventually, he learned about my gender issues, the whole family did. He refused to see me or talk to me for the next fifteen years. I did establish a close bond with my half sister, which endures today. She and I talk openly about everything. As for Dad, he suffered a stroke and reached out to me again. We tried to repair the relationship, but it was awkward. He died the next year.
One day I met a girl. She and I fell in love. I attended church with her as a reason to be with her more. I began to tell her about these desires. With some reservation, she indulged me in role playing. Ultimately, I lost her due to my inability to relate to her as a male. However, I continued to attend her church. I began to find value in what I heard, and value in myself. I, as a male, was not a mistake. I was not evil. I was a creation of God. I slowly stepped away from my insecurities about being a male. However, it was replaced with bitterness and anger toward women.
In my early college years, I decided to become a pastor. The church had saved me from despair. I also thought being a pastor would help me keep my feminine desires in check. It did not. I decided against pastoral service because I was afraid that my past, and the linger feelings I had would be disruptive and under mind the faith of the church body. In my early college years, I majored in theatre. While I was a poor actor, I learned techniques for hiding my femininity and acting more manly. My strong suit in the theatre was my talent as an artist. I became an exceptional make-up and special effects artist. It was the beginning of my mask making, my disguises of manliness. This is perhaps why I am seldom seen without a beard.
My failed career decisions are evidence of my attempt to compensate for and escape from the reality of how I feel. I chose careers that seemed manly to me. I became a police officer, a draftsman, and a tractor trailer driver. In each of these careers, I felt emasculated in the presence of the other men because I felt so feminine inside.
Perhaps the worst job ever, was when I worked as a bar bouncer. Drunken women with low inhibitions coming on to me, was very intimidating. I saw them as manipulative and sluttish. Men intoxicated on liquor and testosterone, puffing out their chests and spoiling for a fight.
Today, I still love the color lavender. It makes me happy. It makes me feel soft and, well, pretty. I like when people mistake me for a woman on the phone.
Also, since I was very young, I very frequently had dreams that I was a little girl, wearing a dress, and playing with friends. Those dreams persist today with equal frequency, though they have changed slightly as I have grown. These days, I dream that I am a woman, usually pregnant. In some of these dreams, I have given birth. In one, I actually performed a Caesarian Section on myself, producing twins. These dreams have never been traumatic for me. I have always found them quite enjoyable, like dreams of flying.
Yet, while I, quite adeptly, hid all of this femininity I feel inside, there are drawbacks. The first is the conflict I feel. I am a man, who while beginning to feel more comfortable in my sex, still feels the guilt of enjoying the girlhood within. This dual persona has caused me to feel intimidated by women for the perceived abuses of the past, yet emasculated in the presence of men. At family gatherings, I have felt ill-at-ease among the men watching football. For that reason, I have tried to learn about the game, and pretend some interest in order to fit in.
In order to deal with the conflicting emotions I feel around both men and women, I analyze them when I meet them. I try to learn things about them, perhaps things they won't even tell me. In part, this is to level the playing field. I feel more at ease if I know them. It also gives me a platform from which I can engage them on their interests.
The real trouble I have is relating to my wife as a husband, and relating to my children as a father. Having missed that role model, I must create these bonds as best as I can. With my sons, I must keep in mind that I must value them as boys without denigrating the value of girls or women. The task is much harder with my wife. With her, I must continue to remember that she is a person. She is not one of "them". She cares for me and loves me. Sometimes that is hard when she generalizes about men. The anger and hurt of my childhood returns, and I regress into a more feminine state somewhere private. She does not fully understand that I have certain "touch issues". While I enjoy being hugged and receiving small kisses, such as a boy and girl might share for the first time, long embraces and "making out" make me feel as though I am suffocating. I feel as though I am trapped in a tube just wide enough for me to get stuck with my arms at my side.
All my life these issues have been with me. I have known of them consciously or unconsciously, but until now I have never put all these pieces together. My life is a puzzle. The pieces have been the gender identity issues, cross dressing, careers, escapism, disguises, lies, fear, guilt, and hatred. They all fit together now. I merely have to figure out what the picture means. I think about the Yin and Yang symbol. I think about how each side has a bit of the other. In the male is a bit of female and in the female a bit of male. Perhaps, I need to embrace both halves. Let them work together to create a whole person. Is it really so bad for a man to like lavender? Being a little feminine makes me happier than anything else, so why not, just a bit? Do I still want to be a female? Much of the time, yes. Do I like being a male? Sometimes, yes.
My hair has started thinning. In my opinion, there are but two options for thinning hair. The first is to cut it very short or shave it. The other is to let it grow and tie it back into a ponytail. My wife hates the way I look with very short hair, so I am growing it out. I think that I shall enjoy having a ponytail.
