This is a story about crying…
My earliest memories are not about play children’s games or birthday parties, but of crying. What great memories to have!
I remember probably when I was six or seven crying myself to sleep at night whishing that I was a girl. I don’t know why I thought about becoming a girl, I have thought it over and over many times… where did those thoughts originate? Was there some type of trigger that made me want to be a girl? I just don’t know, it’s that old battle, is it nature or is it nurture. But in the end it doesn’t really matter, I am who I am.
At various times through out my early years, I was subject to fits of crying. Mostly when I was almost caught crossdressing and I would have a crying fit, promising myself never to do it again.
When I graduated from college, I moved back home and it was the same year that my father retired. I had most of the year to myself because my parents traveled a lot, so while they traveled I could be Diana. Then in ’81 they bought the cottage in New Hampshire and they were up there most of the summer and during the winter they rented a condo in Florida. That meant that I could be Diana except for December and April when they were home. During one of those years a was watching TV in the sunroom when a friend stopped unexpected, I couldn’t run and hide because he would have seem me and he knew I was home because the my car was in the driveway. So I peeked around the door and told him that I was getting ready for a shower. (Late when I came out to my friends, I found out that he did see me crossdressed but never said anything.) That night, I cried and vowed never to crossdress again.
Late in the ‘80’s, my aunt retired and moved in with us. At first she went up to the cottage with them during the summers, but she decided that it was too quite up there and wanted to stay in town for the summer… it was now time to move out and get my own home. I built my house, playing general contractor (I will never do that again!), had the house designed by an architect and the house built by my cousin (Also, I would never have a family member build my house again). When I moved in, I could be Diana full time expect for work. One day, I was smoking pot out in back of my house, dressed as Diana, when I saw the guy that I hired for the landscaping in back of my neighbor’s house and he saw me. I went back in and changed back to being Don. Just then, the doorbell rang and it was he, he said that he had a job next door and that he just wanted to see how everything came out. That night, I dried myself to sleep.
In ’99, I came out of the closet and my whole world changed. I started to attend meeting at a support group, the Connecticut Outreach Society. They had field trips to stores in the area that open their shops up just for their members. Many times, I drove to the store and never went inside, instead I just cried outside in the car because I didn’t have the courage to get out of the car and go inside.
When I started to admit to myself that my feeling ran deeper than crossdressing. I knew that in order to transition that I would have to be able to shop for food, buy cloths and all the other stuff that one needs to do in order to live as Diana. The first couple of times that I went to buy groceries, I sat out in the car and cried because I couldn’t get myself to go in to the store.
When I knew that I had to tell my brother and his family, I cried for weeks fearing the worst that I would lose them. Once I told them, I cried because they were so accepting.
I cry a lot less now a days. Most of the stress is gone, but now I cry over the effects of hormones… a sad move or a love story. However, now it’s a good cry.
For Facebook users, this is part of a series that I am writing on my blog… “Diana’s Little Corner in the Nutmeg State”
No comments:
Post a Comment