Smashing the Looking Glass

They say that mirrors don’t lie. Mine actually laughed at me. No, I’m not crazy. Well, no more than usual. I put on my black camisole and gazed at myself in the mirror. To say I didn’t like what I saw would be an understatement.

The mirror said, "You’re just a fat, old man trying to recapture the feelings of your youth."

You know, it might’ve been right. Then, again, let’s see how judgmental it is after I toss it out the window. I wear women’s clothes because of how it makes me feel. I toyed with the idea of transitioning when I was fourteen, but that was a long time ago. It was during the dark ages of gender dys-combobulation.

Now I’m cursed with a middle-aged male body and a mind that thinks like a female. I can relate to all the women I know, and I secretly wish for a time machine. I still plan on attending DLV next year, but I’ve got a lot of work to do. Right now, I think I’ll go for a walk.

With Love, Francine

I'm Not Ready

There is a social gathering for transgender folks in Las Vegas this month, but I won’t be going. My body aches to be able to attend, but I’m not ready. I don’t care if I pass. At least let me look like a woman on the outside.

My long list of correctables is getting smaller. I’m working on getting my teeth fixed, and I need to shave my beard off. A good wig is on the list and a larger wardrobe is a must. Oh, how I wish I’d kept all the clothes I've purged through the years. You know if a transsexual saved all the money they spend on binge and purge, they could transition in style.

My goal is to be ready for the event next year. I have one year to perfect my walk, voice, and presentation. I will be the girl I always wanted to be. I can’t wait to meet "Like minded girls who know all about my journey and love me.

In the meantime, take pictures for me, and drink a toast to me when you remember absent friends. Put Twenty-bucks in the pot of a poker game, win the hand, and have a drink on me.

                                       With Love, Francine

Oh Yeah.

I wore a pair or cotton panties to work the other day. If you read my post on March 18, you will know what that means. As I drove, my paranoia grew. Every driver was a threat, but I loved wearing my panties. as I bent over to lift things, My panties reminded me they were there. I was back. The comfort I felt was overwhelming. I remembered who I am, and I didn't care that my panties might be seen.

My gender issues are overcoming my fear. If I were thin, I would already be out, but the next step is to shave my beard.

                                        Love to ya, Francine

I'm Addicted

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I don’t know why, but every time I wear a bra, my nipples stand erect. It’s always been that way. It makes me feel feminine and sexy at the same time. When I was young, dressing in girl’s clothes was erotic for me, but I knew it was more than that. When I started wishing to be a girl, I knew I was different.

I looked through the JC Penny and Sears catalogs choosing my wardrobe for the time when I became a real girl. As many of you, I’m sure, I thought I was crazy. How could I explain the magical attraction I felt for feminine clothing. Not to mention my real desire to be a girl. The boys in the neighborhood gave me funny looks when I wanted to be a girl in our make believe games. Somehow pretending to be a woman while playing army didn’t fit with their idea of fun.

I must’ve started puberty early, because I remember masturbating at a young age, while pretending to be a girl. Still, I had heterosexual desires. I almost had gay sex once, when I was fourteen, but the guy didn’t really know what he was doing and I wasn’t really attracted to him or his brother.

Spinning forward, and getting back to the subject, I love wearing my bras. I’m addicted to the way they make me feel, but I can’t wear them in public. You see I’m overweight so I have naturally large breasts. Wearing a bra would be noticed.

After my traffic accident, I’m back to wearing my camisoles and panties most everywhere I go, but I have to wait to wear my bras. Darn, I wish I were a girl.

                                                 With Love, Francine 

Maybe I am

I took the COGIATI test recently. As you can see, my score was 280, which means I'm a probable transexual. It's nice to get validation, but I don't think I'll transition. Old age, and a life of hard knocks have taken their toll.

Like I've said before, I wish I were young again. I want to have my date wait while I get ready for the prom. I want to do it all. Even if I did go through transition, I need money to do it, and I have none. For now, I'm content to crossdress.
                                       With Love, Francine

They Still Call to Me

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By Francine

I totaled a car a while back. It was a fearful experience, one that I never want to go through again. They took me to the hospital and Released me later. When it was over, I realized I'd been wearing his underwear. What if I'd been wearing silk and my injuries were more serious?

Now I'm afraid to go out wearing lingerie in public. I feel like a fool, or a hypocrite. I've got to overcome my fear and be what I am. Wish me luck.

Oh, To Be Young Again

If I were fourteen again, and knew what I know now . . . click on the picture to see the video.http://www.google.com/url?