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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:
http://360.yahoo.com/profile-04dvsfwwdaInYN1cn3zPyDYSrEw-?cq=1
www.flickr.com/photos/10343251@N03/
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