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Name
: Andi En Femme (ok it sounds "French")

Birthday: February 23rd

Interests: Cycling, hiking, skiing, woodworking, mathematics, astronomy, science, lasers, electronics, shopping, long walks, and deep conversations.

Favorite color: Red

Favorite quote:  “Boys will be girls and girls will be boys. It's a mixed up world...”  (please see my open letter below)

About me
:

What follows is a letter that I wrote to a dear friend. I hope that by publishing it here, I can offer some insight into the thoughts, feelings, and experiences that have made me who I am today.

********************************************

Is it possible for two souls to inhabit the same mind?   I've started to wonder if maybe I've been given the rare opportunity of witnessing the confluence of two souls into one.


I began crossdressing at age 12, when my dad got cancer and my mom was spending a lot of time at the hospital.  It was an awkward time for me.  Just as I hit junior high school, I had started developing boobs (gynocomastia), and was rather mercilessly picked on by classmates in the locker room.  P.E. was a mandatory class for me, and I had never been good in any kind of sports, and would gladly have hung out with the girls playing jacks and hop scotch if the gym teachers in elementary school had let me.  So here I was, some kind of freak.  Anyway, while ruminating about my situation one evening, I wondered if I really was supposed to be female, so I decided to see what I might look like.  I snuck some of my mother's things into a bathroom and had a look at myself dressed.  Of course, nothing really fit, and I sort of felt stupid, but I also felt good on some level.  This led to other times, and because I was just hitting puberty, the arousal I felt led to sexual feelings, guilt, and so on.  What I failed to notice was that I liked doing the things girls did and the emotional connection I had to them.  I didn't like the fact that I liked wearing my mom's things one bit, so I wasn't about to admit to myself that I often wanted to do the stuff the girls were doing more than what the boys were doing.  I certainly wasn't thinking about the possibility of a female spirit within me.  Besides, it wasn't like I had nothing in common with other guys.  I had a circle of male friends, was interested in dating girls, enjoyed shop classes, and many other things guys liked to do.  By the time my dad passed away I was so concerned about what was happening to me, I didn't dare tell anyone about it, and continued to suppress any emotional or spiritual connection to crossdressing. 

I told myself I just had to get a girlfriend and I'd be ok.  Eventually, I found one (actually, she found me), but I continued to crossdress in secret shame.  At 18, I joined the navy thinking that'd cure me, but it only gave me a good imagination, and I would dress in my mind instead.  Meanwhile, my girlfriend stuck with me, aware of everything about me but my secret.  At that time, there weren't a lot of virgins my age (especially not sailors!), but we were, and we decided to stay that way until we got married when she finished college.  I was sure that once we were married, I would be "cured" by having normal relations with the woman I loved.  I soon discovered nothing had really changed, and so I ended up telling her shortly after we got married. 

My wife wasn't crazy about it, but I played it down as sort of a sexual fetish, which is what I told myself it had to be.  So, as far as sex went, it was only an occasional thing anyway, and wasn't a problem for the next 29 years and two kids.  Even though things seemed fine, there were odd little cracks starting to form in my personality.  Except for sports, I was an extremely masculine father (an "asshole", according to the kid across the street), who had difficulty expressing his emotions, never cried, and couldn't even kiss his children good night without going through odd contortions.  I was an overbearing, and at times downright abusive father who couldn't allow himself to be seen as weak.  I had trouble attending church, joining groups, and making or keeping friends.  Though largely unaware of it, I was in essence doing everything I could to suppress my feminine side.  About the only time I ever paid any attention to it was in a sexual context. Even in those moments, I would look at myself in the mirror as though a beautiful woman were looking back at me.  She would seem to ask, "This feels so right, doesn't it?  So, why are you using me this way?"  It was a question I couldn't comprehend.  Nor could I comprehend the slow damage I was doing to myself.

It can take years for a structure or a life to collapse from the corrosion of neglect, but when it does, the results are often very dramatic.  When the kids were grown, I hit one of those points in life where I had to take stock.  My career wasn't the stellar success I had hoped it would be, my brother and I were estranged, I had no close friends, my kids had other things to do, and my wife was spending more and more time away from me.  She had it all, lots of friends, a great job, faith, and many prospects for growth and opportunity.  I simply could not understand why we were so different, and I got very, very depressed.  At that moment, I had a very tough assignment at work, and it had gone badly.  The boss blamed me unfairly and I had a meltdown.  I was sent home.  I had been thinking about suicide for a while, and made several plans on how I might do it.  On the way home, I decided it was the only way out. 

Then, I inexplicably started thinking about our son, and how he would see things.  I thought about an old boss who had killed himself.  I thought about my father, and how I had walked in on him, planning to kill himself to end the pain of his cancer.  I thought about running to the neighbors for help.  I thought about my dad laying in bed, cancerous lumps visible all over his now boney legs, at first wanting to die, but then coming to peace with things before he actually did.  Suddenly, I realized I just couldn't quit.  I simply could not leave that legacy for my son and my family.


I knew I was in serious trouble.  As soon as I got home, I called Kaiser and set up a psychiatric appointment.  Luckily, they saw me almost immediately.  Perhaps it was obvious how desperate I was.  I learned later that if I had answered even one more question incorrectly on the intake questionnaire, I would have been kept on a 72-hour hold.  Anyway, I finally got to talk to a shrink and it must have been obvious to her that something was terribly wrong, but neither of us knew what it was.  Towards the end of the intake interview, I still held my secret, and the psychologist asked, "Is there anything else you want to tell us?"  Suddenly, I blurted out, "Yes, I like to wear women's clothes sometimes."  I shared my dirty little secret.  I admitted who I was and let her out.  I felt strangely better in a strange way.  Instead of calling it sick or weird, my psychologist didn't see anything wrong with it and encouraged me to explore it and get in touch with myself.  She encouraged me to seek out support groups for people like me, and to talk to my wife about it; pointing out that by suppressing this side of myself, I had put things out of balance, all but ruining my self-confidence, optimism and sense of self-worth.  I talked to other psychiatrists and psychologists, and they all said the same things.  It made sense:  I had systematically denied who I was, keeping Andi locked up in a dark closet, only letting her out for quick sex as though she were no better than a prostitute.  Who would do that to their "inner-child"?  No wonder I had no friends or self-confidence! 

I have always been, and continue to be faithful to my wife of 30 years now.  I am not homosexual, don't want a sex change, and don't want to live full time as a woman (not that these things are inherently wrong, but they are not right for me--most of the time I prefer to be the male guy I’ve always been).  I simply want to be accepted for who I am.  Of course, I've had 40 years to get used to this idea, and only recently dealt with it myself while contemplating suicide, so I understand the difficulty people have accepting me no matter how much I wish they could.  It has taken me a long time to realize that being transgendered is not a matter of personal choice any more than eating, breathing or sleeping.  We can decide to suspend these activities for the moment, but they always tend to resume by themselves, and denying them only racks us with guilt and makes us sick.  I cannot say why I need to do it, and as far as I know medical science has yet to explain it either.  About 1 in 2500 people are born intersexed, where doctors are unable to determine sex at birth.  Perhaps 10 times as many are intersexed to some lesser degree, though they may never even know it.  I've never heard of a connection between intersex conditions and transgenderism, though it seems natural to expect one.  To this day, I wonder about the physiological basis for my own transgenderedness (and there are some anecdotal reasons to).  All I know for sure is that when I dress up, I suddenly see myself and the world differently.  A lightness and joy and optimism opens up.  A desire to nurture replaces the desire to control.  New possibilities emerge where there were none before, and I am bathed in a feeling of self-acceptance and love and concern for others.

Although we have discussed it at length, my wife doesn't know why I am telling you now, or why I would ever do that. Everyone on my side of the family knows, but nobody on her side does because we both believe they'd be devastated by the news.  She has told only one close friend about me.  Luckily, her friend seems to accept me completely, having participated in a few "girls night out" events, and even a shopping trip with me dressed.  I honestly cannot say why I feel the need to share any of this with you, other than the fact that I also consider you my best friend--indeed one of my few male friends.  Most of my family would probably rather not know, and they've said things like "It's your business" or  "We're glad it makes you happy."  In any case, it has very little relevance to their lives, and they'd probably just as soon keep it that way; so they tend not to bring it up or talk about it much.  I honestly don't know what I expect or hope to gain from telling them or you, but now I that I have, I wonder what to expect. The risk of gossip and ostracism following any disclosure like this is among my wife's worst nightmares, yet failing to disclose it prevents me from being who I am, and denies others the chance to accept me or benefit from my experience. 

Gender is often confused with sexuality, and so transgendered people are often thought of as sexual deviants or perverts bent on homosexual activity or molesting children.  Nothing could be further from the truth!  One has little to do with the other.  Gender is about behaviors people associate with a particular sex.  Most often people of a particular sex behave a certain way, and it can be a real shock to confront someone of one sex behaving like the opposite one.  Recently women have had more freedom to "cross the lines" than men, but this was not always so.  At the turn of the 20th century, women could not vote, enter professions, or even wear pants in America.  Consider the dichotomy observed by Helen Boyd in "My Husband Betty":


A woman in a man's shirt is sexy, assumed to be straight, perfectly normal, well-adjusted, while a man in a women's negligee is assumed to be gay, sexually deviant or comic.  Somehow, when a woman crossdresses (that is what she's doing when she puts on her husband's shirt) it's interpreted as either a positive thing or as insignificant.  But if a man crossdresses, it's sick.  The idea that any woman would find that man sexy--and sexy because he's wearing women's lingerie--is even sicker.

People often confuse crossdressers with drag queens who can be quite provocative, and really over the top.  In reality, we are typically dignified, thoughtful, and sensitive individuals who simply don't necessarily embrace every gender stereotypical behavior associated with our biological sex--including our choice of clothing.  Our ranks include doctors, lawyers, engineers, and musicians, to list only a few.  Historically, many civilizations (including native Americans) have revered their transgendered citizens, so as a group, I believe we have a lot to offer our community.  I do not believe we are "abominations to God."  On the contrary (and this was not always so) I have come to believe that He has given us a rare gift.

Of course, I still worry about having to confront those pious moralists who cloak themselves in religion, and can always quote every scripture on the evils of men dressing as women and women dressing as men, and the persecution they will inflict on me, my family and those who might support me.  I watched in horrified sadness as nearly half of our congregation left the church simply because our pastor came out in support of his daughter's decision to keep and raise a baby she had out of wedlock.  So I am keenly aware of the burdens others might have to bear for welcoming me or appearing to condone my behavior. 

People often cite Deuteronomy to justify their condemnations of people like me, but the insight I get is that the intent of this book is about fairness, and being fair.  It is the codification of that intent.  As we all know, no body of codes is sufficient to cover every possible specific circumstance, which is why we have courts to decide the intent of the law.  As such, I do not think the Bible speaks about TG people directly.  It may address people who would deceive other people into thinking they are someone they are not, but I don't think it even addresses those of us who find ourselves with more than one soul any more than it does ambiguous genitalia or interplanetary space travel.  What it does do is clearly address the idea of being fair and merciful.  For example, it talks about involuntary manslaughter, as when a man's axe flies off its handle and kills his neighbor.  Although one could be argue that the man should be punished for not having taken better care of his axe, the Bible simply says the man should not be punished except for being kept out of town for a couple of months (probably to keep his neighbors from taking revenge until they cool off).  Fairness and mercy again and again seem to be the intent of Scripture to me.

So, anyway, I decided to take the advice of my doctors at Kaiser, and explore my feminine side.  I joined a support group http://www.rivercitygems.org/.  The folks in this group are extraordinary people, covering the gender spectrum from crossdresser to full-on transsexual, though our primary focus is on crossdressing.  Typically, there is a dinner social each month, held at a restaurant or hotel.  We have over a hundred members, and as many as 40 come to the socials.  Otherwise, the people are like everyone else.  My wife often attends functions with me, and we both seem to have a great time.  We are looking to do more charity work, and also outreach to colleges and other groups who want to know more about us.  There is plenty to do.  The suicide rate in the TG community is an appalling 31%, with more than half attempting it before age 21.  There are also a lot of hate crimes against TG people.  Exploring my desire to crossdress and being there for other crossdressers has helped slash the vine of depression which was choking the life out of me, and brought to light an emotional side of me enabling a fuller, richer, more exciting life.  Who knew? 

Slowly, my wife has accepted me for the most part, but there are still days when she has reservations about what I do, and wishes I were "normal."  She's had 10 months to get used to what I had 40 years to get used to.  More and more often now, she supports me, and actually enjoys herself in the process, but only because I have been persistent, honest, patient, and acknowledged that her concerns are all valid.  She worries about me someday wanting to have a sex change. She worries about being discovered and losing her friends or job or being hugely embarrassed.  She worries about me losing my job. She worries I will lose my male identity.  She worries about a lot of stuff.  My son kids me about being Mr. Garrison (from South Park).  And then there's the old joke, "What do you call someone whose been crossdressing for more than a year?--A transsexual."  All valid concerns, but her fears have not really panned out.  In fact, there are even some perks to our relationship.  When she wants to go shopping, she knows she'll have lots of encouragement and we'll both have a great time.  Moreover, she's beginning to see that I really haven't changed.  A lot of the traits she's always liked about me are probably because of the way I am.

I hope that you will also discover I am pretty much the same person you always thought I was, only with a more honest relationship now.  I hope you will find a way to accept me for the way I am--even if you aren't completely comfortable with all you now know. 

 
Homepage:
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