Now on to background...
I was born to Christian parents who were at the far end of the prime spectrum for child-bearing, in a small Mid-western town, on Christmas Day in 1979 and grew up on a small farm on the outskirts of said town. I grew up as any little farm boy would; running in the woods, playing in the creek, shooting, trapping, being a boy.
But I can remember calling myself a tomboy to my mom when I was about 8. She explained I should not say that to anybody else because, "a 'tomboy' is actually a rough, manly girl". I continued to think of myself as a tomboy and imagined myself with long straw-blonde hair blowing in the wind when I ran. I would seek out pictures and movies featuring tomboy-like heroines of various ages.
My earliest memory of "dressing-up" was from when I was about 5. I remember thieving my mom's old pantyhose out of the sewing room trash and hiding them in a closet in my room. I remember planning the mission. I had spent the day running and sliding in my socks all through the house and I would always take a few minute rest on the couch beside the sewing room, on the far end of the house from Mom, in the kitchen. I could hear her singing to herself, over the grind and clank of the mixer as I eased the sewing room door open. I carefully picked the trash up, pulled the stockings out and laid the trash back the way it was and closed the door. I put them inside my pants and slid back through the house before going up to my room and stashing them. That day I learned about using "trash" to hide potential goodies in the trashcans for later pick-up.
The boy side of me turned into a hay-baling machine. My Nordic roots kicked in with puberty and gave me six-feet of well-framed body to learn to use by the time I turned 13! I put on muscle and developed a deep chest and wide shoulders.
The girl parts were all on the inside and as I got older I buried her and tried to forget her. She would pop out at times though; never publicly but rather times when I was feeling down. I would pretend there were two physical sides of me and I would dress up and play with the sexy girl in my bed until I felt better. But then I would feel guilty because the Christian influence said I would go to Hell for even thinking about being a girl.
*On a side note, it’s great that I was Homeschooled because I was never medicated for all the things I was feeling and going through. I got the natural experience. *
One Sunday the preacher spoke on “Crossdressers and Gays”, thanks to something he saw on TV while eating supper the night before. I don’t remember the exact content of the sermon but what stuck with me was that crossdressers (mtf or ftm) are all gay and the Bible says that gays will not enter The Kingdom of Heaven.
I was very confused in those days. Outwardly I condemned everything that wasn’t “Christian”, while inwardly I cheered when gays got congress to think about letting them marry.
Friends:
I didn’t have any. The girls thought I was weird for wanting to hang out with them. The boys thought I was an inbred, homicidal, wuss that wouldn’t fight but might shoot them from afar. I got jokes that they didn’t understand, quoted great artists they had never heard of and spoke of theories they couldn’t fathom. I had one friend from about age 15 to 26 up that was good. But we were only as close as my male side which was very, very far removed from my feminine. I started getting more (farmer/redneck) friends after 21 when I started going to the local country bar on the weekends.
Girlfriends were few and far between except for one girl; the first girl to put up with me for more than six months. I married her after 4 years of dating. We divorced two and a half years after that. Bottom line is, we just weren’t compatible. She knew about my feminine side. She hated it which made me hate it even more.
I thought I had a crossdressing addiction that somehow I didn’t grow out of like other people I read about. I forced it to a sexual fetish and would stop it and burn everything when I started to feel like being a girl was normal. I have completely wiped my clothes and make-up collection about ten times in my life.
Ok. Enough history. I should probably apologize to Kate85xo for the forum space I am taking up with all this. I want to put this out there for people to read and maybe eventually see because I feel like we all have a few things in common and I want to share how I got where I am and how my transition is working.
