Thursday, February 12, 2009
I suppose I have to tell my story 'cause that's important. Trans people all have one and if you have found my virtual porch in a search for yourself, well, stay a while. I'll make some tea.
We can share a smoke and smell the manure as it lifts over the fields and into my yard like a ghost.
I live in the rural south. All my life I knew I was different, but not necessarily trans. Being tall and healthy I looked masculine but felt like a phony around my peers. Hell, I still feel phony around my peers.
Around the age of 11 it was mother's high heels, satin slips, and make-up. Lipstick, rings, lots of fantasy space reserved for wishing I was a girl.
I used to pray that I'd wake up a girl. Everything would be so much easier.
Now as you can imagine this led me to think I was gay.
And I had my share...and it was fun. But I could not, cannot relate to men emotionally, and therefore could never fall in love with a man.
But women. Ah...
Not only did I want them, I wanted to be like them.
In high school I could stare through a girl's jeans and tell, just know, what kind of panties they were sportin'. I knew because sometimes I'd wear them too!
Now it came and went. I like the way Petra says it on her blog, like a tide, like an ocean.
Because I live in a small town in the middle of nowhere, I have to go far and wide for fashion. Still its an adventure.
I'm in therapy and I am not seeking SRS. I'm happily married and one night a week get to be myself.
For some of you that's a lot, or a little.
So far I can deal.
Though, good God do I think about it a lot.
That's enough. More to come. Plus pics of my new pumps!