The following are used by permission. They were all submitted by the Vanity Club membership though e-mail at about the August 2000 time-frame.
The Problem:
"hi Jenelle
Please help, I am new at this, and require some assistance.
I have been a cd for quite a while and of late I am trying to obtain information on
cd/tv/ts. Any stories of other individuals would help.
I want to know how they started and they managed to cope.
I am still a closet cd and hopefully will come out, but I need to know some facts.
Do you have pictures of TS/CD/TV ( not porn )
hugs
Simone"
The Solution (also see the Visitor Diary's):
Once upon a time when I was young and skinny and about to get married for the
first time, a cousin of my wife, at our wedding reception, no less......said
to me......"If you're ever not getting enough......" etcetera.
This person, over time, came on to me over and over. Finally it got so bad my
wife "accidentally" spilled an entire pitcher of very cheap red wine all over
her head.
Flash along eons and eons to 1998. I was visiting a private B/D club that a
friend of mine from DC wanted me to see. So I went with her. All Domina-ed up
in purple pvc and wildness. I was a mere observer of course! Tee Hee.
Anyway......
This couple seemed to be wherever I was in any of the several rooms in this
old row house that made up this club. While I am as dense as brick, even I
slowly had my 15 watt bulb in my head begin lighting. Finally, they
approached me and started asking those innocuous little questions that lead
to the "why don't you come back to our place......we TOO love Johnnie Walker
Black and Soda, and by the way, are you always so dom and kinkily inclined?"
Well, I wasn't feeling in that particular mood and I had just gotten happily
married for the second time. It was then that the dim light bulb in my head
lit. I looked this gal in the face and smiled and told her maybe another
time..........that I had just gotten married and in all honesty I was
"getting about all I could handle." Then I left.
She seemed very disappointed but she never got it. You see......she was my
former spouses' cousin! When I later told my first wife about what had
happened (she knows all about Alexa now and accepts and we remain friends and parents to this day), my former wife, AND my current wife.......laughed and
laughed and laughed.
INFINITE LOVE, ALEXA
Hi Ladies,
Well my story is about the first time I passed. Having been a cross dresser
for 24 years and never really knowing what I was doing with make up and in a
position I couldn’t afford to get caught because the USAF wouldn’t think to
kindly of what I was doing…hahaha! I decided I’d wait until I retired
before I got to crazy with Breanna. It was a sacrifice, but I had to do it.
After seeing so many beautiful girls on the internet, I finally decided it
was time to let Bree out and see what this was all about. I had a co-worker
that knew about me and she had a sister that was a hairdresser at a very
progressive salon. I decided to give her a call and told her all about me,
and she told me to bring my hair down and Henry (another CD) is an excellent
hair stylist. I then decided to ask her about a makeup artist. Once again
she did an excellent job and recommended a new girl in town from San
Francisco. This was all being done to make my first appearance at a Tri-Ess
meeting in Phoenix. Scared to death because while I had been out on short
excursions, this time I was going to be in direct contact with other girls
like myself.
Well, I went to the shop that Saturday, got dressed in a midi length
African print orange multi colored dress, off black panty hose and 4” patent
pumps. Henry started my hair on a headstand while Gina began doing my make
up as some of their other GG clients watched the transformation. At first I
was unsettled about it, but I figured, my money spends like theirs so forget
em if they can’t deal with it. I had my Wheaties and they were kicking in.
Two customers came by to watch as Gina was working and passed some nice
compliments, which made me feel good. After she finished a real nice evening
semi glamour look, Henry came and put my wig on with a few minor final
touches. Then it happened, I was so happy I started crying. Gina told me to
get it all out hon so I can fix you back up. So I gathered my self and
stopped crying. Everyone was giving such nice compliments I was just so
overwhelmed.
So off to the meeting I went. I found it with out a hitch, got out of my
car and strutted in as I had several guys watching me. Nervous wasn’t’ the
word, I was terrified!!! Went into the meeting where I met some very
wonderful girls. They were astounded at my appearance; one girl was amazed I
was black because they very seldom get any “sisters” to come. They all were
very impressed and thought I lived full time. After the meeting we were
chatting and a few girls started taking pictures. Well, silly me forgot my
camera but then I had a bright idea, go buy a disposable. I knew there was a
convenience store at the corner. I excused myself and headed for the store
and shoot, there were two security guards manning the door, one black and
one white. So I jumped in my car to go find another store. Figuring one
would be easy to find in a college neighborhood, there wasn’t one anywhere
so I said forget it. I went back and then decided now is as good as time as
any to go for it. I went to the original store, knees beating each other up,
got my money out, took a deep breath, opened the car door and got out. One
guard says good evening mam, then open the door with gleam in his eyes. I
thought ok, I’m in, and took another deep breath. As I walked through the
store I noticed they were talking and smiling and the black guy (I read his
lips) said she is bbbbbbaaaaaaaaaaddddd! Got the camera, went to the counter
and the lady asked how was I, I said fine, then she said I looked very nice
tonight and she knew I would make some young man happy. SO I was feeling
really good now and attitude hopped on my shoulders and I was walking tall!
No longer concerned about the guards not anyone else, I know had glide in my
stride. Again, they opened the doors as I walked out, and one said, “Baby,
you are making my heart like butter on a hot biscuit”. Corny, but I admired
his useless effort. He then came and opened my car door for me, I got in, he
asked for my number, I told him my girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that, he
asked for the chance to try to convert me back to men. I told him thanks
hon, but there’s nothing like being in a woman’s lap! Flustered he said
“good night, but if you change your mind, you know where I am, damn baby you
look good”. I smiled started my car and drove off.
Again, I was so happy not being noticed for what I really am, tears were
welling up and I told myself girl you’ve got to stop this stuff. That was
the day I finally accepted myself and Breanna for who she was in my life.
She had it together. I have never felt such an emotional and well sense of
being in my life since the day I accepted Jesus in my life.
I have many more great stories to tell, but I wanted to share this one
because it was a special day!
Breanna VC 0342
greetings dear sisters:
i have loved this new thread. it fits who we are and who we might become
one HECK of a lot better than the visceral, testosterone-laced Napster
debates... and i for one pray that those days are behind us!
so, without further ado, here are a couple of Deniece moments that you might
enjoy. B. A., one of our cleverer and more astute sisters, would have
you believe that my life is FULL of these! only once in a while, dear
B... *giggles*
FIRST: Last June, on the very weekend that i had finished moving out of my
family's home, and into digs more suitable for my new status as a single
girl, i decided that a night at the Queen Mary, here in my beloved San
Fernando Valley of southern California, was very much in order. after all,
it had been a rough and very hot two days of moving my belongings, and a
reward of sorts was in order! so... i finished my work at about six PM,
jumped into a blessed shower, dried, and began preparing for my night. long
about 9pm, i was all ready to leave and head on over to our Queen. i had no
sooner stepped out of my second-floor apartment door into the outdoor hall
that led to the downstairs entrance, when i encountered my next door
neighbors! they were a lovely retired couple, quite prim and proper, and
now they were encountered by this six-foot trannie in 3" heels, dressed to
party. we looked at each other for a moment, then i piped up, as is my
nature... "Hi there! I'm your neighbor!" they both looked at me, then at
each other, and started to laugh. apparently, i was their first one...
whatever THAT meant, and they were enjoying the moment. meanwhile, i just
wanted to beat out a quieter exit. not so!! at the foot of the stairs,
next to the pool, i encountered my landlady, the manager of the apartment
complex. "Good evening, Mrs. Warren", i greeted her with. she looked at me
for a moment, mouth wide open and eyes bugging out, then she responded with,
"Well, at least you are TRYING to make a proper girl!" She then began to
laugh and said that she had seen other ladies of my type before, but never
one who lived down the hall from her. by now, my cover was quite blown and
everyone in the complex would know that there was a trannie amongst them! oh
well, it was a lively two months that i lived THERE!
NEXT.. a couple of weeks later, i had a makeover at Lydia's on a Saturday
night in late June. the night was quite warm and i was in typical blonde
mode, meaning that i would forget to say or do SOMETHING over the course of
the night! true to form, i left my overnight bag with all my boy clothes
(including my one pair of casual shoes) at Lydia's, where it was securely
locked in for the night when the store closed an hour later. however, i
did not realize that until i was almost ready to leave for home at closing
time for the Queen Mary! oh well, i figured i could go back later in the
week and no problems! eau contraire...
upon arising the following morning, i awoke thirsty for a long tall drink of
water. my water bottle was in the freezer, where i had accidentally left it
the day prior. in trying to open the bottle, now quite frozen, i sliced my
left pinky finger with a kitchen knife. quite a remarkable job, really...
there was blood spurting all over the place! it took awhile, but i had
finally stemmed the red tide, and was feeling a bit weak. and the opening
in my finger was very evident! so i knew that i had to go to the emergency
room for stitches! and driving might just be a problem in my present state.
so, i wrapped my bloody finger as best as i could. then, i realized that
the only shoes i had were my work shoes and Deniece's pumps. in a
terror-stricken blonde moment, i pulled on my 3" babies over my bare feet
and ran out the door. Once to the hospital emergency room, it became
evident that there were people who were quite amused by my choice of
footwear!! oh well... between the blood and the other distractions, i was
not feeling like responding to any of this. the doctor who wrapped my
finger in the emergency room smiled... " I used to have a roommate who also
dressed. It's no big thing, really!" some comfort, doc! but, i lived to
party again... and THIS time made sure that i had extra shoes in strategic
places..
FINALLY- My mother and sister from Minnesota met Deniece this spring. i
came out to my family last year, soon after my divorce became final.
however, the only one who had seen my pictures before this last June was my
sister Anne. Mom was ambivalent, of course... "You're STILL my baby!". Dad
was harder to convince, here was this big tough ex-Air Force fighter jock
whose oldest son told him that he wanted to be his oldest DAUGHTER.. not
the brightest of moves on this girl's part! A man like this has his boy,
the apple of his eye, tell him that he (the son) is a gay drag queen! but,
i digress..
Mom and Annie came out to CA for my son's HS graduation. they saw my ex-
and spent some time with the kids prior to the ceremony on a Thursday night.
That Friday night, i had dinner with them at their hotel, we went to a
movie and shopped. on Saturday, we went beach-hopping and to Universal
Studios for supper. they were supposed to leave for Minneapolis on Sunday,
and i was to meet them for breakfast that morning and drive them to the
airport. One slight hitch in the get-along, though. Before i left them on
Saturday night, Mom told me that Annie had showed Deniece's picture to her
on the plane to LA earlier in the week. Mom admitted that she was very
curious, and asked if she could please meet Deniece in person, at breakfast
on Sunday. being the dutiful son, and wanting to please my mother, i
reluctantly assented.
next morning, i was up with the sun, doing a tasteful and subdued makeup
job, climbing into a conservative skirt and blouse and heels, plopping my
best brunette wig on my head, and driving over to Mom and Annie's hotel. i
met them in the dining room, and we went in for breakfast. Annie was all
smiles, and Mom was speechless for a good long while. finally, after we
were served, i turned to my mother and asked, "Well, Mom? Do I make an
acceptable woman?" Mom thought about this for a few minutes, then admitted
that i DID look very nice, and i obviously took great care to try and be
presentable. however, her reminder was..."Yes, you're a very cute girl, but
you will always be MY little boy!" oh well, it was an effort rewarded.
and, after breakfast, Mom asked if DENIECE could take her and Annie to the
airport to see them off! my heart was in my throat, and i began to cry...of
course i wanted to do this! i was very proud, as i escorted them into the
terminal for their flight back home. Mom and Annie kissed me at the gate as
I saw them off to the plane. and i floated back to my car in the parking
lot, a smile as big as the outdoors on my lips!
hope you enjoy these, dear sisters!! some things ARE meant to be shared..
love always,
Deniece
and, her mother's girl!
It seems we all have a few. I remember one night last year when I was
driving home from the club about 1:30am. Looking in the mirror red and blue
lights were flashing and I was sure I had done nothing wrong but I pulled
over and waited for the officer to approach the car. I have a little IROC
which seems to catch the attention of police everywhere.
Now on this night I had one of my own shows at a local club and was in a
bright red full sequin gown and lots of hair so I knew I would be explaining
a great deal very soon. Sure enough as he reached the side of the car I slid
my window down and in my best male voice said," good evening" a moment later
after he had recovered the officer looked me over very carefully and said.
May I see your drivers licenses, registration, and proof of insurance MAMM?
That done the questions started, Have you been drinking? No. What are you
doing out in this part of town at this hour? Well, I was at a show. A Show?
What kind of show? Yes, a show, I am a show girl. A drag show. And if you
need proof I have a tape in the car so if you would be kind enough to light
your spot light and point it this way I will get out and do a number for you,
but you will have to get off your wallet because I will not perform for
nothing.
After what seemed like forever the officer handed my papers back to me
and told me to drive carefully and have a nice evening. Turned on his heels
and went back to his patrol car muttering something about getting off his
wallet.
Just another night in the mile high city.
Donna T.
In a message dated 8/4/00 11:11:28 AM, nette@some.com writes:
<< I've been read by teenage girls (The Enemy!) >>
I have a neat short story that is the opposite. I was rehearsing for my show
in the basement of Transformations in Oak Park one day, when a TG named Diane
asked me to go to lunch with her, she having been stood up by her lunch date.
She was dressed very nicely and quite properly in a ladies-who-lunch suit,
subdued makeup, very becoming but ordinary hair, etc., while I was in
full-tilt all out glam drag: way big blonde hair, miles of rhinestones, red
fringy dress, 4" FM red heels, the works. We worked out a scenario where I
would be her husband, the drag queen performer, and she the
trying-to-be-a-good-sport supportive but terribly embarrassed wife, and out
the door we went, at 1:00 in the afternoon, to walk the two blocks to the
restaurant. We had to wait for the green light at the corner and quickly
became alarmed as we seemed to be becoming surrounded by teenage girls;
eventually, there were about 7 or 8 of them pressing in on us. One of them
looked at me and said, "You're a guy!" . Diane was really getting worried,
thinking they might go into attack mode, but all of a sudden the comments -
"Wow, neat eye makeup!" - and questions - "How do you do it? (the eye makeup)
started coming. We must have stood on that corner 10 or 15 minutes
answering questions. I, of course, was in my show biz glory, even doing a
song parody for them, and Diane was extremely happy because the girls
accepted her as my wife and asked her questions about how she felt about me
being a drag queen, etc. All in all we had a ball with those teenage girls.
Hugs, Jezzi
PS - I think maybe they would have read Diane if I hadn't been so obviously
a DQ, but I haven't told her that :-)
Debbie,
WOW!! What a story! I was a Capt, USAF, SAC, in an Airborne Command
Control Squadron in the early '70's, so I can appreciate what you must have
been going thru!
If it hadn't been for a old fashion paperwork screw up, though, my time in
the AF would likely been very short. I was at KC-135 school at Castle AFB in
California and, in what in retrospect was clearly a moment of insanity, I
told a girlfriend about my dressing fantasies. Shortly thereafter, I got a
message that the Flight Surgeon wanted to see me. The girlfriend ( very
quickly a FORMER girlfriend ), had turned me in! I met with two Flight
Surgeons, who didn't seem to think it was a big deal, but they sent me to
Travis AFB, which has a big USAF medical facility, for psychological testing.
I was, of course, grounded pending the outcome. A few days later, the Docs
at Castle got the results, met with me, and, amazingly, put me back on flying
status. This went from start to finish in no more than a week. The Castle
guys told me that the evaluation paperwork would be forwarded to my new base,
and that I was to be given further "shrink" appointments there. In the
remaining four years I was in the USAF, I never heard another word about it
from anyone. And believe me, I wasn't going to bring it to their attention.
Several years after I got out, I dated a lady who was a Licensed Clinical
Social Worker, and who counseled "T's" as her specialty. She knew all about
Kari, and liked me enfemme. From time to time, she conducted workshops at
various colleges and the like on the issue of gender and dressing. She was to
give one for a class at the Naval base on Treasure Island, and asked me if
I'd attend as a speaker. Which I did, as Kari. I was very well received, and
the interchange with the class was first-rate! A couple of the class members
were in the military's version of "internal affairs/security investigation."
They said that they absolutely hated having to investigate "T's," because
these were generally solid people, but that divulgence of such would result
in the "T" being booted out of the service. Thus, they told me, that when my
records from Castle were sent to my new base, they were likely either lost or
misplaced. Thanks to this screw up, I served four more years, with a "BBR"
security clearance ( "Burn Before Reading" ) no less, and became the youngest
navigator flight examiner in SAC.
While my records may well have been lost, I suspect there may be another
explanation for my not being tossed out of the AF. The incident as Castle
occurred in 1971, near the height of the buildup for Vietnam. As such, there
were one helluva lot of doctors, Flight Surgeons in particular, who were just
like Hawkeye Pierce and BJ Honeycutt from the old "M.A.S.H" series. They
were there because they were drafted or would have been drafted, not because
they wanted to go. These Flight Surgeons were generally pretty cool, and
frequently anti-establishment as well. So I think that the guys at Castle, or
perhaps the Flight Surgeon at my new base, destroyed the file, or ignored it.
I remember the Docs at Castle telling me that, "Hell, we'd fly with you."
It's amazing to think how different my life would be if I'd been booted
per standard operating procedure!
Huggs to all!,
Kari Moore,
Hello Girls,
Well, after reading some of these stories, I thought I should share my own
run in with the Tucson PD. This is something that happened many years ago,
when I was just a young "Closet Princess" visiting that lovely city.
I had just completed three years in the military up in Washington State and
was on my way home to Ohio, but first I wanted to stop in Tucson to visit my
brother. In those days my cross-dressing was very limited, but now that I was
out of the service, I was going to really have some fun. I had just purchased
my first wig, "real hair" and here I was in a motel room in Tucson, so I
decided to dress. I went to a local drug store and bought some panty hose
and cosmetics, took them back to the room and began to change. I had brought
with me a cotton jumper and a pair of low heel sandals that I had purchased
in Washington before leaving.
Once I was dressed, then I did the usual thing, made several trips to the ice
and soda machine but, otherwise just walked around my room looking at myself
in the mirror. Finally, I decided to venture further from my room. It was
late, after 10PM and the parking lot was almost deserted. Once I was out of
my room and felt the night air, I got bold and walked to the office. Finally,
I decided to take a walk down the street. I saw the light from a sign just a
few blocks away, so I headed in that direction. It was a "Sambos," which is
what Denny's use to be in some areas. I made it all the way there without
incident and even went inside. The place was also deserted, so no one noticed
me. Leaving there after making an inspection of the ladies room, I walked
back towards the motel.
When I arrived in the parking lot, I felt very brave and very confident, so I
proceeded to walk in the opposite direction. I must have walked just a couple
of blocks, when I saw from the corner of my eye a car slowly following me. I
was about to turn around and head back to the motel; when the car pulled into
the driveway in front of me. I was stunned and couldn't move. Out of the car
stepped a man, who walked to me and showed me a badge. He identified himself
as being with the Tucson PD and wanted to know what I was doing walking alone
at that time of the night. Forget about a feminine voice, I spilled my guts.
I told him that I was staying at the motel and that I was just out for some
fresh air. I don't believe I ever looked him in the eyes, but kept my head
down. There was a moment of silence, then he told me that I should go back to
my room. That was all he said, then he got back in his car and backed out
onto the road and drove off. Was he really a police officer or something
else, I really don't know or care? I did follow his suggestion though. Once I
was safely back in my room, I got cleaned up and spent the rest of the night
waiting on the police to come and arrest me. The following day, I made an
excuse to my brother, then caught the first flight I could home.
Hugs,
Lauren Thomas
vc348
Well, I think all my good stories have
been told by others.
I've run into my mother, my neighbor, my secretary; all without
recognition. I've opened my door to friends, had them not recognize me,
then invited them in to tea and learned what good friends they really
were. I've been read by teenage girls (The Enemy!), and hit on by
Italian men (for some reason Italian men really love me ... go
figure!). I've been introduced to friends of friends who've accepted me
as a matter of course as just another woman (which is heartwarming!) And
I don't think I have anything to add to these, 'cause they're just part
of growing up and coming out of our shells.
You want to know one of my favorite experiences? I was at work one day
... researching in the Public Record Office, Kew. I'd been working
there for two years and only had occasional contact with people --
mostly just asking for my documents and asking for photocopies. Not
surprising: conversations in archives are kind of discouraged. One day
I was outside the front door having a cigarette, and another woman came
up to me and asked me for a light. We just stood there having our
smokes and talking about the weather and the swans in the pond, and then
we drifted back inside. Afterwards I went to the ladies' room and cried
a little 'cause she'd actively accepted me as just another woman. And
then I went back to work.
And that's all I've got to say about that.
Love,
Lynette
Hi girls!
I'll tell you a funny story about not being recognized in drag..
It happened a few years back at my 'coming out in drag' party, at my
sisters' house. She had organized it and invited some of her friends along,
people that I'd known for years in male mode..
She had told them about the reason for the party and about me, but alas, not
everyone! I turned up with my TG friends, Siobhan Ellis and Erica, and the
party was in full swing, when in walked Akiko, (a lovely girl I had known
for years) She said hello to everyone, and then introduced herself to me!
OK, there was a moment where I thought to myself, Now do I say something
or.......? Then the penny dropped and the look on her face was absolutely
priceless!! She was cool about it too, and we chatted for ages, which was a
wonderful addition to a great day.
As an amazing epilogue to that fateful day, it was the first time Akiko met
Siobhan, and they started dating not long after. They have been together
ever since and were recently married in Sydney!
I was lucky enough to be there on the day.
They live in the US now (Paulo Alto CA) so now I can only see them on the
net or the occasional phone call.
I love the thread girls, keep them coming!
hugs all
Rene
Hi girls,
I didn't think I had a story to tell, but after wracking my brain (didn't take
long, two brain cells doesn't leave much for searching) I finally remembered
one.
Last year was an eye opener for me. From January to June marked dramatic changes
in my life. June 12th was my first time out in public as Diane and my first
TNVals meeting. It also was my first time to go out and party. The occasion was
the annual Night in White Aids benefit and that was another eye opener (I lived
a very sheltered life you know). I had planned this evening for weeks, planting
my clothes where I could get to them at the office, making sure I had nail
polish remover handy - in three different locations no less. Notice I mentioned
the nail polish remover. You may know where this is heading....
Anyway, I went to the office in plenty of time to get ready, did my nails and
makeup, combed my wig over and over and tried not to be nervous.
Well, the night was great! I met some nice girls at the meeting and we had a
great time at the benefit. Around 2am I went back to the office and got myself
back in drab. All except the nails. My wife/daughter had taken the nail polish
remover! Both bottles! OooooKaaay, I have my third bottle at home. So it's now
around 3am and I pull into the driveway. I've GOT to be safe right? Nope, my son
pulls in just about the time I was getting out of the car. DAMN!! Do you know
how hard it is to open a door while trying to hide your nails? LOL It ain't
easy.....
Fortunatly, the third bottle was where I left it and I got my nails fixed. And
double fortunatly, my son didn't notice anything. That came this year.
Well, that is my story. Not a great story. But it's my story.....
Hugs,
Diane
F
irst Time "En Femme" in PublicIt was the best of times. It was the worst of times. (Apologies to CD, pun intended) Up until a few short years ago, being en femme was always done in private. Once, in my twenties, I did dare to step outside my house, through the back door, into the cool of the evening. But no one saw me. It did not count….
As I got older, I had to travel a little, for 4 or 5 days at a time. I started taking some things with me to enjoy the quiet evenings in my room. But, I was still alone. Once, I dared to step out of my room and take about twenty steps down an empty walkway. Unfortunately another human being, a man, walked around the corner, not more than ten feet away. I went into an immediate panic, turned and rushed back to my still open door, entered and slammed the door shut. I locked and chained the door. He saw me. I am sure he knew that I was a man in women's clothing. Would anyone at home find out? When my heart stopped pounding, I realized that I was ok, no one was at the door, and I was safe. A feeling of euphoria filled my being. Chrissy was no longer private. She had been seen. She was real. I resolved at that very moment to venture out and be seen, maybe even talked to by someone.
Just a few months later, I found myself in a motel, dressed and wanting very much to show myself to the world. My car was parked just in view. But, I was on the second floor. I would have to descend a flight of stairs, not knowing if anyone was below me on the first floor. I did it. No one was there. I walked very quickly to my car. When the door was unlocked (it seemed to take forever to get the key in the lock and turn it), I opened the door and got in. I sat there for only a few minutes. No one had seen me. And then, I saw the sign at the motel entrance welcoming the local law enforcement members to some kind of meeting. I thought every room but mine had a police officer in it and they were just waiting to catch me. I don't remember how I got back to my room, but I do know it took just a few fearful seconds. I was way too frightened to ever be so foolish again…..
Fortunately, the "urge" (you all know exactly what I am talking about) was too overwhelming. I had to go out. And, it had to be in public. And, I would not run away and hide this time. Was I really that brave (or stupid)?
Now I live just outside of our nation's capitol. I was on a short trip to the western Maryland area. I had remembered reading about a gay bar called Deer Park. This place was far enough away that nobody would know me. I would finally do it.
I choose to go to the bar in my male persona first. If everything looked safe, I could return to my room and change for my "first time out". I do not know what I expected when I entered the bar. A heavyset man, who was setting up a table at the doorway entrance, greeted me. He placed a cash box on the table and a chair next to it. I had arrived before a cover charge was necessary. There were only a few people in the bar. I sat down near the door on a barstool. I ordered a drink. Another man close to my age said hello. He told me he was travelling. It turned out that he was also a government employee who worked for a different department than me. I almost panicked. Not again, I said to myself. But I was determined this time. We would never see each other again. I stayed. A few minutes later, I managed to have enough courage to ask the man at the door if any transvestites ever came into the bar. He said that there were a few that came in, but usually later in the evening. He asked me if I was a transvestite. His manner was not threatening. I answered him with an honest, but quiet yes. We talked for several minutes more. I was very relaxed. As I finished my drink, I was wondering if I would have the courage to finally do it. I got up to leave and the man at the door said, "Come back dressed honey. You will have a good time. You will be safe". I smiled and thanked him. Maybe, I said as I left.
Back in my room, I decided "now or never". I changed quickly. Put on my makeup, wig and heels. It took only a few minutes. I was committed to do it, to finally go out as Chrissy. (It now takes me several hours to transform into Chrissy as you see me in the pictures. For my first time out, I must have looked like a real hag. It did not matter.) I opened my motel door and stepped out. No one was to be seen anywhere. My car was only a few feet away. I got in, started the engine, and drove off the lot. As I got to the first red light, a car pulled up alongside me. It was very dark. Nothing happened out of the ordinary. It would be all right. I drove the few miles to the bar and parked the car. No one was in the lot, but there were many more cars there than earlier in the evening. I sat in the car for 15 minutes checking my hair, looking at my makeup, just plain stalling. Finally, I said to myself, just do it. I opened the door, got out, and walked up to the entrance. I checked myself again, and opened the door. As I walked in, I was aware of many people in the place. I was not attracting any undue attention or jeers from anyone. The man at the door looked up at me. He stared for a few moments and then smiled and said, "I am glad you came back. Come on in. Enjoy yourself". I reached into my purse for the cover charge and he stopped me saying "You don't have to pay the cover charge honey. As far as I am concerned, it's ladies night". I was elated, my first time being treated like the lady I always knew I was. The rest of the evening went so quickly. I talked to just a few people. Everyone was so nice. I felt very comfortable. When I finally left, several hours later, the ride back to the motel was relaxed. I entered my room. My life would never be the same again.
I returned to that bar several times again, but it eventually closed.
I had to find another place to go. But, that is another story.
Enjoy life, I am.
F
irst Memory of Wanting to Dress UpWhen I was 4 or 5 years old, I can remember my mother was down stairs, my younger sister and I were playing upstairs in her room. She suggested we play dress up. I had seen my mother's reaction to my sisters dressing up before. Everyone thought it was very funny. I said, "sure, let's make mommy laugh".
My sister went to her dresser and got out a pair of her cotton panties, an undershirt with a blue bow sewn on the top front edge, and one of her frilly dresses that she often wore to church for Sunday morning services. I must have gone to my room and gotten some of my clothes for her, but I do not remember any of the details about them. Funny, huh?
I can remember taking off all my "boy" clothes and putting on each and every article of my sister's clothing as though it was just yesterday. I was as excited as a small child can get. I had no reason to know why just putting on girly clothes could make me feel so good. After everything was just right and my sister was dressed in my boy clothes, she said, "Wait, you need shoes and socks". I do not remember if she wore my shoes, I was just too fascinated and excited with my new girly look. She handed me a pair of white cotton socks that had to have the tops turned down, revealing a frilly lace design sewn into the tops of each sock. They looked so good on my feet. I then put on her black patent leather shoes, each with a little buckle strap that went across the arch of each foot. (I am still partial to the same kind of shoe, only I like a 4" heel on them now J ). I can not tell you how excited I was to see myself in the full-length mirror in my sister's room. I thought, "mommy is really going to like this".
We both laughed as we hurried down the stairs to show mommy how we were dressed up. She was sitting in a chair, sewing something in our screened-in porch, just off the kitchen. She stopped when she heard our laughter and looked up at us. I will never forget the look on her face when she looked at me. She was not pleased. Her face showed anger and she immediately asked me what I thought I was doing. Her reactions caused me to go from feelings of pure joy to feelings of embarrassment for making her react in such a negative way. I was crushed. How could I be such a "bad little person"? I was made to go upstairs and change right away. Once in my room and "undressed", I cried five-year-old tears of confusion. That would not be the last time I would cry such tears. How could something be so good and so bad, all at the same time? As I got older, I often found ways to dress and feel "so good". But, I never let anyone else see me, because that would have been "so bad".
Afterthought:
While I can dress without any feelings of guilt now, I still find it necessary to keep my dressing secret for fear of putting that "look" on someone's face. Think about this for a few moments. If a five-year-old child can find excitement in something, how can that "something" be wrong?
Enjoy life, I am.
O
n Being Stopped by the Police
One thing we girls know how to do is keep a secret. I have been keeping mine for over 40 years. Another thing we do is to try and prevent situations that would cause us to be "found out".
Whenever I go out "en femme", which is now about twice a month, I worry about such things as: mechanical problems with my car, flat tires, having a traffic accident, maybe having my car stolen and so on and so on….
My worse fear however, is to be stopped by the police, arrested and taken to jail in a skirt and heels. I would have to let the world know about myself all at once. Well guess what?
One night, after leaving the Deer Park (see my first time en femme), I was driving down a desolate rural Maryland highway, heading for another bar, Talon's, about 25 minutes down the road. The road was rather empty and it was still early in the evening, about 9:00 p.m.
A four-wheel drive vehicle, heading in the opposite direction, passed by me. For some reason, I noticed the driver looking at me. As I got further down the road, I looked into my rear view mirror to see the vehicle make a U-turn and then the light bar on top started the blue-red flashing. Oh God, I thought. Please let it be going on an emergency call in the opposite direction. As it approached my car, I slowed down and pulled onto the shoulder, hoping it would just pass me by. The vehicle slowed and pulled onto the shoulder behind me. My heart was in my throat. My heart started pounding and I was more frightened than I have ever been before or since….
The officer got out and approached my door. I wound down the window and heard the words "license and registration, please". I fumbled through the glove box, retrieved the registration, reached into my purse and found my license and handed them to the officer.
After a few anxious seconds, he flashed his light in my face and said, "You 're a guy?". I said yes and he asked me to get out of the vehicle. When I got out, I was wearing one of my shortest skirts, and a silky blouse. My skirt had ridden up while driving, and I had to modestly adjust it in front of him. He told me to step to the back of my vehicle. He asked if I had a wife and children. I told him I did. He asked where I was from and was I in the area just to dress that way? Before I could answer, he said, "had anything to drink this evening?". I told him the truth, that I had one glass of wine several hours ago. He said that he didn't have a field sobriety kit with him, but that he was going to give me another type of DUI test. His demeanor was noticeably agitated at this point. I was shaking, either from the night chill or just plain fear. He told me that he was only going to give me the directions once and that I was to pay attention. I nodded agreement. I was still shaking. He asked if I was ok. I told him I was just very frightened at being stopped while dressed this way.
He began the instructions, " Put one foot directly in front of the other, heal-to-toe, and take ten steps, counting each one out loud. When you get to ten, turn on your heal without letting it come off the road surface, and repeat the walk for ten more steps. Do you understand all these instructions?" Nervously I said "yes". I had been driving without my 4-inch heels and was now standing in my stocking feet on the cold road. Many cars were passing by, slowing down, and taking-in the sight. I began the test and did everything exactly as instructed. I had no problem passing, but the turning on my heel had given me several runs in my stockings.
The officer then began reading me the riot act about the way I was dressed. I knew that he had no right to do that. And, I wanted to say something. But, I was paralyzed with fear that he would arrest me anyway and cause me the embarrassment of being arrested and found out by family and friends alike. I just listened until he was finished. He handed me back my documents, turned and returned to his car. He drove off with me still standing there at the rear of my car. As he drove down the road, I got back into my car. I was still trembling.
I managed to collect myself, start my car and continue down the road. When I got to Talon's, I walked inside, sat down and ordered a "coke". I was still trembling. A very nice young man came up to me. He introduced himself as Bob and asked me if I was OK. He said that I looked like there was a problem. I told him the whole story. He was very sympathetic and tried to calm me down. Bob said that because the cop appeared angry and left the way he had and having given me such a hard time about the way I was dressed, that he had probably stopped "an attractive women so that he could hit on her and was mad for choosing someone like me". I had my doubts about that explanation. But, it did give me a reason to laugh. Bob stayed with me for quite a while, making sure I was ok before returning to his friends. I thanked him for being so kind. I never saw him again after that evening.
Many times in my excursions out at different locations, I have found quite a few sympathetic individuals in the GLBT community, that have made me feel most comfortable as a transgendered individual. To all of them, your kindnesses are very much appreciated.
Enjoy life, I am.
Here's my contribution.
I was a Lt Col in the AF. My wife was semi-aware of my dressing -- thought I
was a pervert. I was selected to attend for a 20 week course in Washington
DC. This was my first real chance to experience life as Debbie. I lived on
base in a Military Hotel with over 300 classmates. I dressed as often as I
could and started attending TGEA (TransGender Education Association)
meetings. I normally cleaned-up before entering to the base.
This night I was tired. It was late; about 1:30. So, I said what the ?X$#
... no-one will be up. I'll just cleanup back at my room. As I approached
the gate for the base, I noticed a small sign saying "100% ID Card check in
process." I panicked but there was no way to turn around. As I approached
the gate, rolled down my window and told the MP at the gate in my most
feminine voice ... I left my ID at my friends house, let me turnaround and
I'll go get it. Trying to be nice, he said; "that's not a problem Mame,
just show me your driver's license and I let you in." Starting to really
panic, I said; "I forgot my entire wallet ... I don't have my driver's
license either." Looking puzzled and pointing to a pull-off, he said ...
pull ahead, I'll be with you in a minute. By this time I couldn't breathe
... all I could think was; "if this guy clocks me, the military will arrest
me and my 18 year career and my marriage is over." I sat there for about
2-minutes (seemed like hours). He finally appeared. I quickly spouted;
"Just let me return to my friends house and I'll get my ID card." He
answered; "I'd like to Mame, but I can't let you drive without a license.
What is your name?" Without thinking, I answered; "Debbie Hahn." He left
and returned about 5 minutes later. "Mame, we show this car registered to a
Lt Col Horn. Who is he?" Oh my God, I hadn't thought of that -- quickly I
said, "He's my husband -- My name is Debbie Horn." He shook his head and
said, "I thought you said Hahn!" I piped; "It must be my New England
accent." "Oh!" was his only reply. I was getting extremely nervous and I'm
sure it showed as his next comment was; "Mame, please step out of the car."
I almost freaked but remembered that my career and marriage were over if I
didn't pull this off. A quick side note on how I was dressed - Bright red,
tight top (emphasizing larger than normal breasts), a tight figure hugging
skirt that ending about 3" above my knee with 3" red heels (a 6'3" woman with
nice figure and long shapely legs). I didn't look like a typical military
wife. I towered above this 5'8" private. It took every bit of my willpower
to keep my head, but my knees weren't listening. They were literally shaking
(try standing in 3" heels with your knees shaking - it isn't easy) By this
time, his shift leader had arrived. There were three MPs surrounding me ...
I was barely holding it together. The leader said, "Mame we want to help you
... but, I'm going to have to ask you to take a field sobriety test. If you
refuse, we're going to have to take you to the station for processing." I
agreed to the test. To keep this long story short, because my knees were
shaking so badly, I failed the test. The three MPs huddled together and were
talking. I could barely stand up. After a couple of minutes the original
soldier came back to me and said; "Mame, you failed the sobriety test, but we
all believe it is because you're so nervous." I managed to squeak; "I am
very nervous, I've never been pulled over before." He continued; "Mame, we
want to help, so, why don't you call your husband and have him pick you up
here and then come get your car tomorrow morning." My answer; "I can't, he's
out of town." Luckily my wits returned and I continued with; "Is the only
problem that I can't drive my car, because I'm willing to leave it here and
walk home." The MP looked puzzled and walked back to the group. He returned
in about 2 minutes. "Mame, there are two problems. We can't let you on base
without an ID Card and we can't let you drive without a license. My shift
leader thinks we should take you down the station house and you should call a
friend to vouch for you." It was over; my eyes started to fill with water
... I was really afraid. My tears becoming noticeable, I sputtered, "We're
here on temporary duty ... I don't know anyone and my husband left me here
alone for the weekend." He quickly went back to the group. Within 15
seconds, the shift leader came over to me; put his hand on my arm and started
leading me to his car. I started to lose my composure. He leaned to me and
said, "Mame, can you hand me your car and get in my vehicle." My knees
started to buckle, he gently held my arm and continued; "If you give me
permission to move your car to the visitor parking lot; I'll drive you home."
I gave him my keys and started to breathe again. During the 10 minute drive
to my building, we talked about my husband, places we'd been stationed and
Europe. He was going to walk me to my room, but I said I was okay. I
thanked him for being understanding and I walked to my room. Once inside, I
collapsed on my bed. John picked up the car the next morning without
incident.
I swear on my daily dose of estrogen that every word is 100% true. I vividly
remember each and every aspect of the incident even-though it happened 10
years ago. To this day, I am amazed that for over 20 minutes of face to face
interaction/conversation; I convinced three MPs that I was a woman. It was
invigorating the next day but a nightmare when it happened. The ironic part
is 5 years later I was divorced and my ex-wife informed the military of my
transgenderedism. After a 6 month investigation ... the AF asked me to
retire or they would prosecute me for conduct unbecoming an officer.
Debbie
Hi girls,
Well this has been a fun thread, so I guess I will add a story.
As many of you know, I go to Denver very often, since I am only 3 hours
away. When there, I now generally stay with my dear GG sister Phyllis who
I have plugged quite often.
Anyway, on the night of June 30th our plans were to go to a straight
restaurant (the Aurora Summit) to meet another GG named Bridgette and then
the three of us were going to BJ's to give Bridgette a chance to see her
first full drag show.
A good DQ friend named Anita Cocktail who also performs in male mode
(Bridgette had seen the male act) was to be one of the main acts, Bridgette
wanted to see the girl version.
As we sat in the restaurant, Anita walked in in full drag. She is a bit
large, well she once was a starting guard for the New Orleans Saints! She
came to our table and said "let's go girls", we told her we would see her
there because we wanted to see the show, and then come back to the Summit.
Well I will delete all the middle stuff about going to the show because it
will only delay getting to the meat of the story and pick up the story back
at the Summit.
We were still at the Summit at closing, Bridgette had left our table so
Phyllis and I went over to tell her goodnight. She was sitting with two
couples, so over we went. In the process of saying goodnight, one of the
men at the table asked Phyllis, "OK, what is the story with the seven foot
tall, 700 pound blonde guy in a dress?" referring to Anita. Phyllis
proceeded to explain that she was a DG and what that was, but the guy was
having trouble getting the picture. Phyllis tried her best to explain that
some men like to be more in touch with their feminine side, and was really
not doing very well. The fact that he was a bit tipsy didn't help. At
varying times, I jumped in with a comment or two, but no one paid much
attention to me which was way cool. When I realized that Phyllis was
bogging down, even with help from the two wives at the table. I went over
and sat between Phyllis and the man. I leaned over and whispered to
Phyllis, "should I tell him?" to which she said, "that is up to you!".
After telling her it didn't bother me, she said "Wayne, I would like you to
meet my very dear friend Joanne!" He responded in a very gentlemanly way
and we exchanged a few pleasantries. Then Phyllis said," Wayne, Joanne has
something to tell you!" Wayne turned to me and asked, "what is it honey?"
So I said, in the deepest voice I could muster, "Wayne, I am a transsexual,
I used to be a boy!" His eyes looked like a deer in the headlights, he was
so shocked, the others at the table began laughing their collective butts
off to see his reaction. We then discussed the issues of TG'ism
to
everyone's enjoyment until the manager kicked us all out! As well as it
went I didn't see the need to tell them that I was still a pre-op!
What was so great about the experience, was that I had totally passed, and
chose to "out" myself. It was without a doubt a very validating
experience, because if I had not said anything no one would have suspected
a thing!
Hugz,
Joanne
Since we are into telling stories, let me add my little contribution.
I live in Detroit and, last year, I decided to go to Toronto for Gay Pride
weekend. I decided to treat myself and, on the Friday before the Pride
weekend, I went to see Lisa (one of the CD group's good friends in Detroit)
to get the full nail treatment - in a lovely shade of pink. As she had
finished with me about 09.00 pm and I decided it was much too early to go
home, I decided to try out (for me) a new club with was basically a Lesbian
bar but one which welcomed CDs. I was wearing a conservative top, cardigan
and miniskirt (very conservative for me for anybody who knows me) and drove
off to the club. I didn't expect to meet anybody but was content to sit with
a drink and wait for the drag show.
So there I was, minding my own business, when in walks my secretary. Now she
didn't know about Debbie and I didn't think it was very appropriate to walk
straight up to her cold and say 'hello' dressed as I was. Fortunately, for
me, she had come in with a group of girls and was pre-occupied.
I sat and thought about my options and decided that discretion was the
better part of valor and went and asked the bar staff if there was a rear
entrance I could use. Once I explained my predicament they readily agreed to
let me out through a locked rear door. I thought, well, she didn't see me
but I now know something about her !!
Some time went by and I decided to build up courage and visit the same club
again but this time with a group of fellow CDs. Sure enough, after a while,
the same thing happened again. In walks my secretary and out I go.
Now I got to thinking, this can't go on. I like going out dressed, Friday
night's are a fun night at this club, she's obviously Transgendered herself
and I think I can trust her. So, at work, over a period of time, I started
making comments about visiting clubs etc etc and she obviously worked out
something was up and agreed to meet me for a drink after work.
Well, I gradually got the conversation around to CDs etc and then the whole
story of Debbie came out. To say she was supportive was an understatement.
She was dying to meet Debbie. So, I arranged that we should meet up at the
club the following Friday. I decided to put on one of my sexiest (short)
dresses and my favorite wig, my bestest make-up and, thus dressed, went off
with my friends to the club. After a while she came in with her friends and
I sent one of our girls over to go and get her. I can honestly say I think I
knocked her socks off !
The nice thing is we have now been out together a few times with me dressed
and I am able to have little girlie chats with her at work (when other
people aren't listening). It's really fun to share Debbie with her.
Come on girls, I'm sure you have better stories to tell than mine. This is
much more fun than some of the other recent e-mail discussions we have been
having.
Lots of love
Debbie
Interview_with_nova_gyna
Write with yours!
8/15/2001
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