Heterosexual-Homosexual-Bisexual?

By Francine

A while ago, I tried to imagine being gay. I work with the public and I tried to imagine kissing every man I came in contact with. I also tried to imagine being kissed by them. I’m not sure why, but I wondered if my gender identity crisis extended beyond just recreational cross-dressing.

At fourteen, I’d been dressing in my mothers clothes for years. I’d been making my own women’s fashions too, and I began to wonder what it would be like to be a real girl. Much like Pinochio’s desire to be a real boy, I embarked on an adventure.

This wasn’t a coming out event. Please understand this was 1972 and young men just didn’t do such things. Not, if they wanted to remain out of mental hospitals. I’d heard about medical procedures that would change me but I never pursued the possibility. I perused the catalogs with envy.

I found myself obsessing over it, but I never took it farther than my fantasies. After a while, I lost myself in the activities of the times. I buried my desires in a mountain of cannabis and alcoholic beverages. I discovered I lost interest in sex. Still don’t know why, but transgender issues didn’t surface during that time.

Now, years after the substance abuse. After a life lived as a heterosexual male with cross-dressing tendencies, I wonder how I would’ve lived life if I had transitioned. I would be a pioneer, but would I be attracted to males?

Yes my curiosity goes deeper, but I promised to keep from posting about those subjects here. I found myself trying to imagine being gay. Feelings rose up and the evidence is inconclusive. I can’t conceive of sex with a man, but I wonder . . . If I found myself with a real vagina I might think otherwise. Hormones would also have an effect on my brain chemistry.

I’m a transgender male, lost in a world he’d rather ignore. I want to go back to being fourteen. Back to when I had tight skin and the possibility of living life as a female was real. I can bury my cross-dressing desires. After all, I’ve done it over and over again through the years. But the possibilities no longer exist. I remain a transgender male. I will not succumb to the binge and purge cycle again.

I won’t, however, pursue surgery. There are some pretty hot guys out there, but probably not for me. I think like a woman, I always have, but it’s hard to be attracted to some of the macho attitudes I encountered. I lived as a male for all these years. I can see through the façade and I don’t have the patience.

Good luck to you ladies. May you find yourself locked in the women’s section of a high-end clothing store, and may you have the whole weekend to enjoy it.

Photo Shoot

I got dressed the other day and took pictures. Of course I kept them from the neck down, since I’m not ready to shave yet. My alter ego needs that beard in his work and daily life.

Now, this post can go many different ways from here. When I wrote that opening paragraph, I thought of my alter ego and how strong a personality he is. I could write about getting rid of him. I could also talk about getting old and how that messes with cross-dressing.

I could talk about how I missed my opportunity by not transitioning when I was younger and the skin was tighter, the body was smaller then too.

There are so many issues facing the transgender male, it would be impossible to list them all. We’re a strange lot with multifaceted minds, and I could delve into that subject.

So, for this post I’ll let you be the judge. Look at the pictures and tell me if you see anything pretty. I need to lose the fat and find the courage to shave the face, but It was fun.

A Stupid, Rookie, Mistake

As I get older, details seem to slip from my mind. I walk into rooms and forget what I’d gone in there for. You know things like that. I went shopping on the day after Black Friday and came home with some great deals. One of those deals was a pretty pair of shoes. I debated over which pair to purchase and ended up with a pair of black suede low heels, similar to the ones in the picture.

You guessed it, they were the wrong size. I know what size I wear, but somewhere in the back of my mind I was buying for my alter ego. With other priorities, I wasn’t able to take them back until today. They offered to let me get the right ones for the sale price, but between the shoes being a discontinued item and my embarrassment, I just got my money back.

I envy you ladies with small feet and petite bodies.

Thanks for the Inspiration

By Francine Keller

Many years ago, I subscribed to Compuserve. Many of you will remember that online service that preceded the World Wide Web. Some of you might still be on there. On the compuserve I remember, there was a section that changed my life. I believe they called it the CB channels section.

I met people like myself and almost cried to realize I wasn’t alone in the world. In my chats I discovered many kindred spirits who happen to be cross-dressers like me. Like when I learned the word, transvestite, I was elated to find out, I’m not insane.

The CD community on Compuserve supported me and lifted me. I found solace in their life stories. Many of them, like me, were married and most were heterosexual. We were all dealing with issues bigger than ourselves. It was like coming home.

As time went on, I succumbed to the old binge and purge cycles I had grown accustomed to over the years. I stopped visiting the channels and found another ISP. With Access to the Internet and the WWW, I discovered many facets to my madness. I learned there are other types of people like me. I got lost in the sexual diversity of it all and forgot about the possibility of recreational cross-dressing.

Life continues and so does the binge and purge cycle. I look back on the whole of my experience and wish I still owned all the outfits I purged from life. Hell, I wish I had the money I spent on those outfits. Such is my regret.

Recently, I found people on social networks and blogs, I think I remember from the Compuserve days. Either way, they are an inspiration to me. One of those is Kimberly Huddle. She’s a lucky woman who overcame adversity and was saved. She was blessed enough to have married a wonder woman, has a great family, and gets to dress "Pretty" as she calls it, often.

I’ll let her tell her own story, but let me tell you, I’m impressed. She’s very pretty, and she has more class in her little finger than many of us will ever get. It’s because of her that I cleaned up this blog. Many of you know I started this with sexual overtones, but I remembered that’s not what it’s supposed to be.

I’m fast approaching geriatrics. Who knows how long I’ll be able to keep this up, but I’ve decided to cancel the binge. I’m going to work harder with makeup and exercise. I want to be pretty like Kimberly Huddle.

Thank you Kimberly and those of you from the old days. You’ve kept me from a date with a bottle of pills or a long jump into a canyon. I love you ladies.

Right Over Left . . . Left Over Right

http://www.kaboodle.com/reviews/6-big-button-blouse

By Francine Keller

I was shopping, online, the other day. While looking at a blouse with buttons up the front, I wondered why women’s buttons are backward from men’s. I’m a writer, so I asked my wife to help with a story question, and asked her. She didn’t know, and bristled at my suggestion of being that way to make it easier for men to remove.

"You mean the men who have such a hard time undoing those buttons?" she asked.

I went to wikipedia and found an answer. According to that source, they were placed that way because (well-heeled) women of the nineteenth century didn’t dress themselves. The buttons were designed to help right-handed servants. Men on the other hand, generally had their clothes laid out for them, but they dressed themselves. Men’s buttons were placed on the right to match the latches for armor.

Now, if I dress in a man’s shirt, and wear a woman’s skirt, it would be spotted right away. Maybe we need to get back to nineteenth century traditions. Anybody want to dress me? I could use lots of help with makeup?

On that note, I wonder if zippers were put in the back to replace buttons. The zippers would make it easier for arthritic servants. Yes I’m convinced I need a servant, if only . . .

Of course for the modern transgender, there is something intriguing about buttoning your clothes on the left. Helps you realize that "hey, I’m wearing a women’s shirt."

Starting Over

Into every TG's life comes a few periods of binge and purge. We all know there is something a little strange about what we do, but then there is something strange about totally male/female behavior.

Because of that, and religious guilt, we often purge our whole female wardrobe. This was the case with me over a year ago. I went camping and made a ritual out of leaving my feminine self behind. I put all my undergarments into a plastic bag and left them by a log.

With health issues, the year that followed was a struggle. Then, a month ago I went back into the mountains and found one bra and nothing else. It had been chewed on by a rodent and must’ve gotten hooked on the log. My longing to wear it overwhelmed me. I had to bring it home. I put it on and . . . well you know the rest.

 

 

one of my new camisoles

I’m Back . . .

Ladies, bare with me on this most recent journey. I’m poor and can’t afford my habit, but I need a fix. I went into the Women’s plus department of a store yesterday and purchased more panties and two camisoles. I attached a picture of one of them, above. I’m in heaven.

Good luck, come out and enjoy your life.