My story

[Elyse Marie]

I'm going to preface this by saying that the two things I hate the most are myself, and talking about myself. 

 

But I also know that it's important for one's voice and story to be told. Even if one's audience is only themselves. 

 

It's a long one, and I'll say this now, trigger warnings for suicide/suicidal thoughts, drugs and alcohol use/abuse. 

 

Here's mine, written in 3rd person to make it easier for me:

 

On April 15th, 1982, at 9:40a local time, in Webster, Texas, a beautiful healthy baby was born to a Southern Baptist family. He was the second, and last, of two. Both AMAB (assigned male at birth for those not familiar with the acronym). The child was taken home and raised like any normal child would be. 

 

He was loved. Spoiled. Given the action figures he wanted, the video games, the bikes and sports equipment and everything he wanted and needed. 

 

Then, around 5th grade, the boy started to have an interest in things that weren't quite normal for boys to be interested in. While in school he'd wonder what it would be like, how it would feel, to come to school in the cute dresses and outfits that the girls got to wear. At home, while everyone slept, he'd sneak Mom's hosiery and try it on. 

 

As he got older he ventured into her tights, panties, dresses, and even play with her makeup whenever he was left at home. Sure. He got caught a time or two. No big deal at first. Boyhood curiosity, mom told dad. Nothing to worry about. 

 

During these years, the boy started to have dreams in which he was a girl. In these dreams she was happy, and pretty, and her mom adored the daughter she knew mom always wanted. She'd thrive in those dreams. But then the morning would come, as it always would, and the boy would put on his boxers and pants and polo shirts and try to hide his depression. 

 

Then. One day. Well, it was 3am. Mom caught him. He was in an old pair of tights and a leotard of hers (this was the 80s/90s, y'all), a pair of her panties, and a stuffed bra. He was just hanging out in his room. The extent of what he was wearing is what broke her. It was no longer curiosity. This was something serious.

 

Parents sent him to a shrink. Same shrink he'd been seeing for ADHD/behavior issues. She was wonderful. She asked me the right questions. Questions at the time he didn't have answers to. Questions about sexual identity, sexual orientation. He was open. He was honest. He told her about the dreams, how he felt. Her conclusion, which she told my parents, was that what he was doing was healthy. Normal. Many heterosexual men engage in crossdressing. That he wasn't a freak or pervert or deviant. They should be supportive, in case this becomes something more.

 

Needless to say, he was in heaven. Pictures of my closet filled with dresses and skirts and drawers of tights and bras and panties filled my head. He could be their daughter at home, freely and openly. 

 

Then, on the way home, his dad spoke up. "No son of mine is going to be a freak. We're getting a second opinion." And just like that, his world was shattered. 2nd shrink was older, male, degrees from religous institutions. Contradicted everything that the other doc had said. And his parents listened. He was told to repress. To be a man's man. Not to do the things sissies and girls did. 

 

He got back into sports (many broken bones), and hunting, and the such. Depression started to kick in, but worse, the sneaking around to be his true self turned his existing into something taboo, fetishizing it.

 

Through high school and college, he hid, repressed even more. Sought release in pornography. Sought distraction in drugs and alcohol abuse.

 

Post college (dropped out, never graduated), he met a girl he thought was the one. He was in his 20s. He had a decent job. Well. One night before they're married, but living together, in a state of drunkenness he confesses to her his fetish with wearing hosiery. That's what it was, a fetish. Well. His fiance goes ballistic. Says that all crossdressers are <insert derogatory slur towards gay men> and so on. Causes a rift between them. She proposes a plan. 

 

He wears panties and pantyhose, properly fitting, all day long. At the end of the day, see if he still feels the same way.

 

Well, at the end of the day he was given a choice: admit he loved it and lose her, or lie to save his relationship. He chose the lie and further repressed. Because to love women's clothing was wrong. That's the narrative he was forced to live.

 

The full details of this marriage aren't too important. The main things to know are that she was abusive to this man. Emotionally, physically, mentally. He never fought back. Never intentionally initiated anything. And during this time he amassed a huge stash. Cheap breast forms, a wig, lingerie, a dress, and boots. All he kept well hidden. While he dressed, he would shamefully become aroused. Again, his repression made this act taboo. Forbidden. He could have been discovered. Fortunately for him, he never was. 

 

He was depressed, though. Marriage was toxic. Job was stressful. He had no friends, no family. She had succeeded in cutting him off from everyone. While she was out of town one weekend, he got severely intoxicated and held a gun to his head, pulling the trigger. Maybe it was fate. Maybe he was too drunk to remember that step, but he'd forgotten to put the clip in it. In a moment of clarity he put the gun away and cried himself to sleep. 

 

After 5 years of marriage, she filed for divorce from him. He didn't fight it. The abuse, depression, repression, it was all too much. He moved out, got an apartment, turned back to alcohol and drugs. Hardly sober outside of work, he existed in a state of numbness. It was better than feeling anything, good or bad.

 

He got help. He sought counseling and therapy. He eventually met a woman. They hit it off, and things started to get serious. The night he knew he loved her, he confessed to her his fetish for crossdressing. He didn't want this hidden from her. She made him feel happy even in his ugliest times, and he didn't want to make the same mistakes. 

 

If he couldn't live openly with her, he didn't want her in his life.

 

Her reply to this bombshell - Oh, I am going to have so much fun with this.

 

And she did. Wigs, makeup, clothes, all properly fitting. He was able to dress when he felt like it, and her coming home to her boyfriend in a dress wasn't something to dread. It was ... normal. 

 

And that openness desexualized it. It wasn't taboo. It was normal to present female around her.

 

And the more he did it, the more those old memories flooded back to him. Dreams of being a woman started happening again. And in those dreams, happiness and fulfillment were hers. She was beautiful, happy, in love, and thriving. 

 

On his 30th birthday, he reflected on his past 3 decades and realized something that he should have seen a long time ago, had he stood up to his parents when he had the chance. He realized that the woman in his dreams, the nature that he was repressing, was his true self. He embraced this truth and confessed it, in tears, to his girlfriend. He told her that he was the mask, that she needed to be free, and that he wanted to become this woman who had always been inside him.

 

Her girlfriend looked at her and said, smiling, "took you long enough."

 

Her girlfriend, her first true ally, eventually her fiance, then wife. Her biggest cheerleader, and biggest critic when needed. 

 

She had support, family (chosen, not relatives) and friends who love and respect her and only want her to be who, what, makes her happy. And she is happy, most of the time. HRT will come, and hair removal, in time.

 

We all take this journey differently, at different paces. And that's ok.

 

And that's the story of Elyse. I'd like to think in the end she gets her happy ending. We all deserve one, don't we?

 

 

[Cyndee]

That's very nice you have met up with such a supportive girl friend Elyse ?

 

None of this is easy, especially when the forces of the old patriarchy try to assert themselves, so destructive. It's something you end up have to break free from. 

 

You sound much happier today

 

C -

[Timber Wolf]

Hi Elyse,

Welcome to the start of your new life! It sounds like rather than a happy ending, you've found a happy begining!

 

Lots of love,

Timber Wolf?

[Jani]

Thank you for sharing your story Elyse.  Yes, a happy beginning to a happy story.

 

Jani

[Guest]

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Terrific story Elyse yes everyone deserve to be happy in the end.

[BrandiBri]

What a wonderful start to a "happily ever after" ending!

 

Brandi