“You’re not a lesbian. You’re a man”

One time a man I just barely knew was asking me questions about me being transgender. The conversation turned to the fact that yes I’m transgender, but I don’t like men. I told him that most people don’t understand how I can be Trans and not like men. To most people that makes no sense. He chuckled a little and said, “I can understand that, I’m actually a lesbian trapped in a man’s body. I looked him in the eye and told him, “Well, when you start shaving your legs and wearing dresses, come back and I will believe you.”

I had my first experience with wearing female clothing when I was ten years old. This was in 1972. I found a pair of panties in the trash that my mother had gotten rid of. I have no idea what possessed me to pull them out and try them on, but I did. After trying on the panties I knew then that there was something different about me. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t have language for what had just happened, but I knew I was different from the other boys my age.

I’m not proud of this, but I saw my first porno film not long after turning eleven years old. About six months after my first crossdressing incident. My first porno movie was a super 8 movie film. The kind that you bought through the mail from an ad in the back the adult magazines. My friend invited me over to his house to see his dad’s collection. He set up the projector to show on the wall and then turned off the light. As the blue light flickered I saw my first naked woman. In fact it was two naked women. Yes my first introduction to porn was lesbian porn. As I watched intently, really not knowing what to do with myself; something inside of me awaked. I remember very plainly as they say; just like it was yesterday. It felt as if a switch had been turned on in my head. I knew then this was what I wanted, and my body acted accordingly. I was too afraid to do anything right then, so I waited till I got home to do the deed.

That was my first introduction to lesbianism, but it would not be my last. I came to view being a lesbian as the highest calling a woman could obtain. Don’t ask me why I felt this way when that line of thinking went against everything I had ever been brought up to believe. Moreover, the rest of the world in the ’70s was condemning it. This was the era of evangelist Billy Graham and anti-gay crusader Anita Bryant. There was also Renee Richards, the first transgender professional tennis player. Renee was mercilessly attacked by the Christian right and vilified by the press. A so-called “man” playing in women’s athletics. Even though Renee had already had all her surgeries and was fully a woman.

As a good Southern Baptist youth, I knew that my thoughts and feelings were against everything the church was teaching. Still I could not get over the fact that somehow I strangely identified with the lesbian girl. So I guess my brain had already been opening up to this line of thinking because of the fact that wearing female clothing just felt right to me. I didn’t understand why it was that no matter how hard I prayed, no matter how much I repented, I could not stop dressing like a girl. The Sirens call to the lesbian world and living as a girl would not leave me alone. This whole line of thinking was confusing to a young early teenage Baptist boy. I mean how could I be a lesbian with this weird thing between my legs?

That was the other thing that confused the life out of me; I never felt a connection with that part of my body that defined me as a boy. It was as though he was not part of me, but rather something that just hung around all the time. I even gave him a name, Mr. Happy. Giving him a name help me to have some kind of connection to him, you know like a friend. While all the other boys where bragging about how big they were, I was oddly ashamed that I even had him attached to me. I didn’t hate him, I just didn’t care about the perceived benefits of the male privilege. To my way of thinking the female form was much more desirable.

Also at the age of eleven it was just my mother and I living alone together. She had just divorced her husband, my step dad. That’s why we were living in the apartment complex where I had met the friend with the movies. My mother worked all the time. She left early in the morning before I went to school and did not get home until well after I was out of school. My mother asked me if I could learn to cook and she would do the dishes. This prospect was very appealing to me so I quickly took her up on it. As a bonus I threw in housekeeping too. Keeping the house picked up was not that big of deal since it was only her and I. After that I started watching all the cooking shows on PBS. Jeff Smith, known as the Frugal Gourmet was my favorite. I remember once my mother told me that I would someday make someone a good wife. This prospect didn’t bother me in the least. (Hello to my beautiful wifey.)

At sixteen my mother had figured out that I was wearing her clothes. She offered to get me professional help. Even at sixteen I knew what that was code wording for. Especially what that involved as a good Christian woman. I didn’t deny or confirm what I had been doing. In fact I gave her nothing to work with. I just kept silent hoping the subject would go away, and it did. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore than I did. She never spoke about it again, and I was more carful from that point on. I became a master at hiding the truth. No one but my mother ever figured out the conflict that I carried around inside me.

At the age of nineteen I grew my first mustache over the objections of my first serious girlfriend. The mustache came to be an accoutrement that would be a part of my life until the day I finally gave in to who I was. This was my mask, my declaration that I was indeed a man. In the morning when I got up to shave the rest of my face, I could look into the mirror and say to myself, “You know you’re not a bad looking man, but you would make one ugly woman.” I became a carpenter, a very masculine profession. Even though I was short I was known as being very strong for my size. At every turn I was proving to myself that I was truly a man.

I remember once in my early 20s I saw a girl on the bus that was obviously insecure about the fact that she was a young woman. When I saw her I became so outraged by the fact that she did not understand the gift she had been given of being born a girl. Why didn’t she do things to make herself more attractive and take full advantage of her gender? I didn’t say anything to her, but I remember the thoughts I had the time, and the feeling of anger towards the way she kept herself. Of course now I understand that she had probably had some sort of bad experience in her life that made her the way she was. I only hope that by now she has gotten help and is living a better life.

At twenty two I had a girlfriend who encouraged me to shave my legs and put on pantyhose. You would think that would be a dream come true, but it wasn’t. It terrified me because I felt the urge to be a girl getting stronger in me. I was not yet ready to give into who I was. The Baptist force was still too strong in me.

I was married the first time at the age of twenty-five. (This was not the same girl who allowed me to shave and wear pantyhose.) I thought that being married would rid me once and for all of this strange desire that plagued my life. However, I found out the only thing that happened was that I made the life of someone I loved unbearable. Even when I was married, anytime I was alone with no one else around, I would slip into my wife’s wardrobe just to feel some sort of happiness. After seven years of marriage and a five year old boy, she found someone who did make her happy. He was an old high school boyfriend. She never did try to hide the fact that she was dating while being in the same house as me. I stayed home with my step daughter and my son while she went on her dates. I left a month later.

By the time I was thirty I was working at a grocery store in Clintonville, Ohio. It was a suburb of Columbus. The nickname for that particular suburb was “Clitsville” because of the abundance of lesbian girls. My best friends at the time were all lesbian girls. I have no idea why they let me hang around with them but they had very little problem with including me. I would go to the bars with them and I was never asked what I was doing hanging around with a bunch of lesbian girls. Although to be honest there were some conversations that I was not privileged to be a part of.

By this time I spent many hours alone at home. The urge to be a girl was overwhelming at times, and the pornography was in full swing. Even at this high point of low behavior I could never watch straight porn. Seeing a penis literally turned me off to the point where I could not even watch the movie. This behavior caused me to set up a pattern of bingeing and purging of female clothing and all the evil things in my life.

I would stock up on female underclothes that I would wear at night, and sometimes under my clothes at work. I was shaving my legs and wearing a bra stuffed with water balloons around the house. You see my strongest desire my whole life has been to have boobs. Then my Baptist training would kick in and I would beg God to change the feelings I had inside of me. (God never answered that prayer.) Then I would get rid of everything I had and swear with all my heart not to return to the demon den of female clothing. That swear never lasted for long.

At thirty nine I convinced a girl fifteen years younger than me to give marriage a try. I had three boys with her and moved to Texas. However the porn had taken over even the desire to dress. I started missing work and getting up in the middle of the night to set in front of the computer. Even as I felt our marriage falling apart I could not stop what I was doing. Ten years of marriage and she finally had enough of my intense escapism into darkness.

This time everything fell apart. I lost everything that was important to me. I was at the bottom of life. I could not sink any lower and still be alive. You know there is a strange side effect to losing everything in your life. When this happens you have nothing to lose. I knew internally things in my life had to change. I could not go on living my life the way I had been. The best decision I ever made was seeking help from a LGBTQ friendly therapist. She never told me what I should be doing, but only asked the right questions at the right time. She was spiritually holding my hand as I came to terms with who I was.

I gave up pretending to be a man, and embraced myself as transgender lesbian. And you know what, I was right about one thing; at first I was one ugly woman. The thing is I no longer cared. I started taking hormones, and studying how to be a girl. I found my style and learned makeup techniques. Now I am often told how pretty I am. I don’t see it, but I love how other people see the beautiful girl inside of me.

I have a woman that I love more than any woman from my past. You see I am completely free to love her with everything that I am. The porn is no longer an issue in my life because I am no longer escaping my inner feelings. I have no secrets from her. She loves me for who I am, and all that I am.

In my next article I want to talk about my beautiful girl and the story of how we got together and came to love each other the way we do. Like the rest of my life our love story has been a rocky one. Still true love does not happen in the good feelings of cuddling romance. The cuddling is important, but the strength comes from knowing the unlovable side of a person. If you can love the unlovable, then you have a rare and special love.

So until my next installment remember. I am strong, I am beautiful and Trans proud.

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Category: Transgender Body & Soul