…………………in this second part of my reflections on my life as I draw closer to my GCS next month, I continue the process by reflecting on a dark and ugly period in my life known as my middle years. I was considering doing a slide show on this period as I did last week in my first part of the reflections on my early years, but this so called middle period in my life was not a particularly joyous one. I do not mean to say that my early years were spectacular but they paled in comparison of what was to come. I do offer up a picture of myself at age 24 at the height of my deep repression and denial of my true self. It was one of the few times I actually smiled because I had to- the picture was taken for my class composite for my law school class. It hangs in the hallowed halls of the West Virginia University College of Law. It was taken two months after I married my now ex-wife of 24 plus years and the mustache I spouted during my period of deep repression and denial as depicted in this photograph took me over 7 years to grow. That should have told me that it should have never been there in the first place but it was all part of my attempt to live life as the person everyone thought I was and not who I truly was in life.
I have been told by some in our community that we should not show such pictures to outsiders because that will give them a false image of who we are and that it only leads to their confusion and difficulty in acceptance of our true spirit and essence and how we now present that spirit and essence in our lives in the proper gender. I am not overly thrilled by this picture by any means- but it is reflective of a period in my life that existed and without which I could not be where I am today despite its pain, repression, ugliness and the encasement of my true spirit and essence in a tightly wound cocoon I would affectionately call my shell. The image in the shell and depicted in the photo was not who I truly was- but was how others saw me through their eyes if they could not see my soul! This period of my life was one of repression, denial and entrapment -all built on a mountain of lies and deceit! I don’t have to tell most of you that these are not things to build a life upon by any means! Feel free to print it out and post it up on a dartboard for target practice if you like.
As I mentioned in the last blog I almost told my parents when I was 14 about me being transgendered but, at the last moment, I chickened out and told them a lie. Lying about this secret became easy to do. The first thing one has to do is lie to yourself and the rest of the lying comes easy. High School brought about diminished time for my expression of my true essence and my emersion of myself into typical male activities like sports such as football, baseball and track. Football was the worst. I was small in size anyway and the drudgery of three a day practices and coming off the field grimy and beat up was something my father - but I know I did not. I would sometimes head to the locker room and see the cheerleaders practicing as I did and in my mind I knew I belonged there and not headed to the stinky locker room to hear stories of male conquest of people I connected with as my sisters. I was convinced however, that if I immersed myself in masculine activities I could rid myself of these feelings of femininity and be the person everyone believed I was and I guess also how I physically appeared. I wanted to go to the prom so badly in a beautiful gown and heels with a lovely corsage but ended up in a tuxedo.
After high school I started college with the understanding I would attend law school after my undergraduate work. In all honesty, I wanted to go into culinary arts but felt everyone would grow suspicious of me if I did so somehow I convinced myself that a life as a lawyer would provide a nice cover for me and a pleasant life. While in college I ended all expressions of Melissa, cut my hair and joined a fraternity which would provide me with more cover of my true self and more immersion into masculine activities that would drive this deeply hidden identity from me. I was convinced it could work and Melissa would go away, or at the very least, I could control her and keep everything neatly in check. It was in college I met my ex-wife and I fell in love with her for she was a kind, attractive and intelligent woman. Desd[ite the fact I knew I was a woman born in the wrong body I was still very much attracted to woman- both sexually as well as socially. Additionally, I was convinced that if I settled down and got married and raised a family like “men” were expected to do, that again, I could end once and for all the existence of Melissa and any feelings I had would go away.
In reality, in the back of my mind I knew it would not work for although I had deeply wrapped my true self in a tightly wound shell built on lies and deceit, there was always this little voice there- a tiny seed in the deepest recesses of my mind and soul that told me I was a liar and that I was kidding myself about controlling my true spirit. However, the early years of our marriage were good. I had begun a prosperous legal career for one of the most prominent law firms in the West Virginia, was on my way to owning my first home and in 1985 my first child was a born- a beautiful little girl named Rachael. She was born 9 and ½ weeks early and lived in the NICU for over six weeks but I was on top of the world when we brought her home and I spent much time holding her in my arms. I was a father and I had responsibilities to this beautiful, bright child which I truly wish I could have carried and delivered myself. Melissa was in check and I was becoming a prominent member of the local society involved in many civic activities and charities which occupied my time and helped kept my thoughts away from facing my true self.
However, by 1988 the shell which had built up for the past 12 years or so began to shed a few thin layers. No matter how much I tried I could not stop thinking about my true identity and expression of her. I shaved off the ridiculous mustache and removed some of the scant body hair on my body and soon I began presenting Melissa again in the privacy of my own home or in a hotel room when I was out traveling for work. Still, I believed I could control this and a few more lies to myself and others would take care of this “problem”. Four years into my marriage I decided I needed to tell my wife something for I knew it was only a matter of time before I was discovered. However, just like with my parents fourteen years earlier, I did not tell her the truth and I simply told I was a cross dresser -although I knew deep down that was not true but maybe I could control it that way and move on with my life. She took it pretty well after some struggles but why not – she thought it was some sort of a fad. A year later, I presented myself to her as Melissa for the first time thinking we could move further on the issue but that would be the last time in my life until our separation and divorce she would see my true essence. She cried and stated she never wanted to see me again that way. I was disappointed but I saw the pain in her face and knew that she would not even discuss going beyond what had already been discussed the year earlier and I did not want to hurt her further. From that point on, all of my activities as Melissa would be done under a policy best defined by Donna Rose in her book “Wrapped in Blue” as the period of “Don’t Ask- Don’t Tell”. I expressed Melissa whenever I could, chatted with others online and researched everything I could on being transgendered and dressed at home when she was gone and when I was alone out on the road. All I did was build more lies and deceit that years later would be thrown at me by my wife and many others.
In 1990, my second child was born- a son named Ian. That same year I became a partner in the law firm, helped my wife go back to school and begin work on new college degrees so she could do something she had a gift and passion for in her life. She graduated years later and began her new career in speech language communications working with my challenged children with special needs. I admired her for her work and she was very talented and had a gift for helping children. We moved to a bigger home, bought more cars and lived life in comfort. I spent much time involved with my children’s activities at school, scouts, sports and church. By age five my son had taken a great interest in the game of baseball and he was exceptionally good at it. He went onto play Minor league, Little League, Babe Ruth and High School baseball for thirteen years as a left-handed pitcher with good control and many accomplishments behind him including a near no hitter in his Freshman year. I followed his career with great interest and loved watching him play the game he was so talented at and excelled in for so many years. This afforded me more opportunities to be involved in things that kept my mind off the issues that had confronted me all my life in denial, repression and wrapping the shell so tightly such as coach, umpire, League President and Vice-president . Now I did accomplish some wonderful things which benefited the boys and girls who were involved in the programs-, but my involvement, while meritorious, did little to resolve the core issue that had haunted me since I was six. Both my children were very bright like their mother and excelled in school. I was very proud of they accomplished in their lives but I know I constantly wondered how they would act and how they would respond to learning the deeply hidden truth about their father. I was to find that out later in my journey as well.
By the mid 1990’s I was living the “American dream”, all while living the great lie which seemed, for a time, to go away for a bit when I spent hours pouring liquor down me in large quantities to kill some pain. Some around me I think sensed my excessive alcohol intake when I indulged was too excess but they said nothing. I had created a persona that was contrary to my real self and feelings and soon everyone had adopted it. I came off as the “the anal retentive you know what” who was a successful employment and labor lawyer for companies, a young Republican who everyone assumed was “somewhat to the right of Attila the Hun” to quote several of my colleagues. I was also known as the baseball guy for my work over the years as outlined above. All of these images would hide the real me deep inside my shell and perpetrate the lies and images which would one day come back to haunt me. Lies have a way of doing that you know!
I was traveling a good deal for work which enabled me to get away and spend a few hours in my true gender presentation. Still, I had not ever ventured outside the boundaries of my hotel room or home. I longed to do so and one trip to New Orleans during this period provided this opportunity for me. I was convinced by a transgendered girl named Carla to use the weekend I had free after my conference had ended to come out in public for the first time as Melissa in 1995. I was scared to death to do so but she helped me overcome my fears, set up a makeover for me and agreed to meet me for a night on the town. I remember that night vividly. I took my first steps outside the door of my hotel room after a brief pause at the door to walk to the place we would meet down the street for a drink and then off to a party in the French Quarter. It was a wonderful high for me.
The moment I left the confines of my room and ventured into the streets I felt alive and the memories of the first experience in my neighbor’s basement so long ago came rushing back to me. I was free and when we entered the party at the house I realized for the first time I truly was not alone or among the handful of scattered misfits- as the room had over sixty people in it like me there -all welcoming and accepting. I was indeed so happy. After the party many of us went out to the clubs and had more fun dancing and partying being my true self. When the night was over I remember my friend Carla dropping me off at the hotel and I strolled into the lobby knowing that I would never again hide Melissa from the world and that I loved getting out in the world as her. After that night, I began using my travels as opportunities to get out in public, doing things I loved to as Melissa and make contact with others like me. I went shopping, met others for dinner or even ventured out to day at the lake or beach. I could not wait for these opportunities to come and loved presenting my true self to the world but still- there was my life back in West Virginia with my wife and two children and the suits and ties. This false life was built on the respect of the community as a lawyer and partner for a prominent law firm, the baseball guy and image of Mr. Republican (although people never knew how I had really voted in the privacy of my voting booth!) Everyone just sort of assumed things although I did really nothing to deter their false image because it kept the shell on with a few more layers.
However, each venture out as Melissa all over the country brought me renewed hope and joy and each time I had to go back to the image I had spent years creating- living in my shell, I spent hours crying and living in a secret depression- all covered up by my the consumption of lots of alcohol on a more frequent and excessive basis. I was full of anger and repression and many times my family, friends, colleagues and legal opponents were the witnesses of or the victims of this anger and shouting - all while unknowing of the deep, dark secret that clouded my life for so long and created so much pressure upon me along with the effects of a very stressful job with many demands. Each venture out living life as Melissa brought me so much happiness but it also brought me guilt over my family’s lack of knowledge of what I was doing and who I really was I as a person. The guilt fed the anger and depression and both of these fed the need to express my true self as if I was caught up in a loop all while be hidden inside my shell. I woke up many days wondering whether the nightmare would ever end and I could find peace in my work…my life and my family and live my life as who I truly am and have always been.
The shell had taken a few hits and thrown off a few shreds but it was still very much intact as I moved into the new decade of the millennium. Its very existence, however, was threatened from a spirit blossoming inside of me as well as those “forces” on the outside in the form of the many people I continued to meet from my troubled community as well as some family issues lurking on the horizon. I knew my journey and healing was a long way from being complete but the path would grow shorter from all the forces about to converge upon me……………
I have been told by some in our community that we should not show such pictures to outsiders because that will give them a false image of who we are and that it only leads to their confusion and difficulty in acceptance of our true spirit and essence and how we now present that spirit and essence in our lives in the proper gender. I am not overly thrilled by this picture by any means- but it is reflective of a period in my life that existed and without which I could not be where I am today despite its pain, repression, ugliness and the encasement of my true spirit and essence in a tightly wound cocoon I would affectionately call my shell. The image in the shell and depicted in the photo was not who I truly was- but was how others saw me through their eyes if they could not see my soul! This period of my life was one of repression, denial and entrapment -all built on a mountain of lies and deceit! I don’t have to tell most of you that these are not things to build a life upon by any means! Feel free to print it out and post it up on a dartboard for target practice if you like.
As I mentioned in the last blog I almost told my parents when I was 14 about me being transgendered but, at the last moment, I chickened out and told them a lie. Lying about this secret became easy to do. The first thing one has to do is lie to yourself and the rest of the lying comes easy. High School brought about diminished time for my expression of my true essence and my emersion of myself into typical male activities like sports such as football, baseball and track. Football was the worst. I was small in size anyway and the drudgery of three a day practices and coming off the field grimy and beat up was something my father - but I know I did not. I would sometimes head to the locker room and see the cheerleaders practicing as I did and in my mind I knew I belonged there and not headed to the stinky locker room to hear stories of male conquest of people I connected with as my sisters. I was convinced however, that if I immersed myself in masculine activities I could rid myself of these feelings of femininity and be the person everyone believed I was and I guess also how I physically appeared. I wanted to go to the prom so badly in a beautiful gown and heels with a lovely corsage but ended up in a tuxedo.
After high school I started college with the understanding I would attend law school after my undergraduate work. In all honesty, I wanted to go into culinary arts but felt everyone would grow suspicious of me if I did so somehow I convinced myself that a life as a lawyer would provide a nice cover for me and a pleasant life. While in college I ended all expressions of Melissa, cut my hair and joined a fraternity which would provide me with more cover of my true self and more immersion into masculine activities that would drive this deeply hidden identity from me. I was convinced it could work and Melissa would go away, or at the very least, I could control her and keep everything neatly in check. It was in college I met my ex-wife and I fell in love with her for she was a kind, attractive and intelligent woman. Desd[ite the fact I knew I was a woman born in the wrong body I was still very much attracted to woman- both sexually as well as socially. Additionally, I was convinced that if I settled down and got married and raised a family like “men” were expected to do, that again, I could end once and for all the existence of Melissa and any feelings I had would go away.
In reality, in the back of my mind I knew it would not work for although I had deeply wrapped my true self in a tightly wound shell built on lies and deceit, there was always this little voice there- a tiny seed in the deepest recesses of my mind and soul that told me I was a liar and that I was kidding myself about controlling my true spirit. However, the early years of our marriage were good. I had begun a prosperous legal career for one of the most prominent law firms in the West Virginia, was on my way to owning my first home and in 1985 my first child was a born- a beautiful little girl named Rachael. She was born 9 and ½ weeks early and lived in the NICU for over six weeks but I was on top of the world when we brought her home and I spent much time holding her in my arms. I was a father and I had responsibilities to this beautiful, bright child which I truly wish I could have carried and delivered myself. Melissa was in check and I was becoming a prominent member of the local society involved in many civic activities and charities which occupied my time and helped kept my thoughts away from facing my true self.
However, by 1988 the shell which had built up for the past 12 years or so began to shed a few thin layers. No matter how much I tried I could not stop thinking about my true identity and expression of her. I shaved off the ridiculous mustache and removed some of the scant body hair on my body and soon I began presenting Melissa again in the privacy of my own home or in a hotel room when I was out traveling for work. Still, I believed I could control this and a few more lies to myself and others would take care of this “problem”. Four years into my marriage I decided I needed to tell my wife something for I knew it was only a matter of time before I was discovered. However, just like with my parents fourteen years earlier, I did not tell her the truth and I simply told I was a cross dresser -although I knew deep down that was not true but maybe I could control it that way and move on with my life. She took it pretty well after some struggles but why not – she thought it was some sort of a fad. A year later, I presented myself to her as Melissa for the first time thinking we could move further on the issue but that would be the last time in my life until our separation and divorce she would see my true essence. She cried and stated she never wanted to see me again that way. I was disappointed but I saw the pain in her face and knew that she would not even discuss going beyond what had already been discussed the year earlier and I did not want to hurt her further. From that point on, all of my activities as Melissa would be done under a policy best defined by Donna Rose in her book “Wrapped in Blue” as the period of “Don’t Ask- Don’t Tell”. I expressed Melissa whenever I could, chatted with others online and researched everything I could on being transgendered and dressed at home when she was gone and when I was alone out on the road. All I did was build more lies and deceit that years later would be thrown at me by my wife and many others.
In 1990, my second child was born- a son named Ian. That same year I became a partner in the law firm, helped my wife go back to school and begin work on new college degrees so she could do something she had a gift and passion for in her life. She graduated years later and began her new career in speech language communications working with my challenged children with special needs. I admired her for her work and she was very talented and had a gift for helping children. We moved to a bigger home, bought more cars and lived life in comfort. I spent much time involved with my children’s activities at school, scouts, sports and church. By age five my son had taken a great interest in the game of baseball and he was exceptionally good at it. He went onto play Minor league, Little League, Babe Ruth and High School baseball for thirteen years as a left-handed pitcher with good control and many accomplishments behind him including a near no hitter in his Freshman year. I followed his career with great interest and loved watching him play the game he was so talented at and excelled in for so many years. This afforded me more opportunities to be involved in things that kept my mind off the issues that had confronted me all my life in denial, repression and wrapping the shell so tightly such as coach, umpire, League President and Vice-president . Now I did accomplish some wonderful things which benefited the boys and girls who were involved in the programs-, but my involvement, while meritorious, did little to resolve the core issue that had haunted me since I was six. Both my children were very bright like their mother and excelled in school. I was very proud of they accomplished in their lives but I know I constantly wondered how they would act and how they would respond to learning the deeply hidden truth about their father. I was to find that out later in my journey as well.
By the mid 1990’s I was living the “American dream”, all while living the great lie which seemed, for a time, to go away for a bit when I spent hours pouring liquor down me in large quantities to kill some pain. Some around me I think sensed my excessive alcohol intake when I indulged was too excess but they said nothing. I had created a persona that was contrary to my real self and feelings and soon everyone had adopted it. I came off as the “the anal retentive you know what” who was a successful employment and labor lawyer for companies, a young Republican who everyone assumed was “somewhat to the right of Attila the Hun” to quote several of my colleagues. I was also known as the baseball guy for my work over the years as outlined above. All of these images would hide the real me deep inside my shell and perpetrate the lies and images which would one day come back to haunt me. Lies have a way of doing that you know!
I was traveling a good deal for work which enabled me to get away and spend a few hours in my true gender presentation. Still, I had not ever ventured outside the boundaries of my hotel room or home. I longed to do so and one trip to New Orleans during this period provided this opportunity for me. I was convinced by a transgendered girl named Carla to use the weekend I had free after my conference had ended to come out in public for the first time as Melissa in 1995. I was scared to death to do so but she helped me overcome my fears, set up a makeover for me and agreed to meet me for a night on the town. I remember that night vividly. I took my first steps outside the door of my hotel room after a brief pause at the door to walk to the place we would meet down the street for a drink and then off to a party in the French Quarter. It was a wonderful high for me.
The moment I left the confines of my room and ventured into the streets I felt alive and the memories of the first experience in my neighbor’s basement so long ago came rushing back to me. I was free and when we entered the party at the house I realized for the first time I truly was not alone or among the handful of scattered misfits- as the room had over sixty people in it like me there -all welcoming and accepting. I was indeed so happy. After the party many of us went out to the clubs and had more fun dancing and partying being my true self. When the night was over I remember my friend Carla dropping me off at the hotel and I strolled into the lobby knowing that I would never again hide Melissa from the world and that I loved getting out in the world as her. After that night, I began using my travels as opportunities to get out in public, doing things I loved to as Melissa and make contact with others like me. I went shopping, met others for dinner or even ventured out to day at the lake or beach. I could not wait for these opportunities to come and loved presenting my true self to the world but still- there was my life back in West Virginia with my wife and two children and the suits and ties. This false life was built on the respect of the community as a lawyer and partner for a prominent law firm, the baseball guy and image of Mr. Republican (although people never knew how I had really voted in the privacy of my voting booth!) Everyone just sort of assumed things although I did really nothing to deter their false image because it kept the shell on with a few more layers.
However, each venture out as Melissa all over the country brought me renewed hope and joy and each time I had to go back to the image I had spent years creating- living in my shell, I spent hours crying and living in a secret depression- all covered up by my the consumption of lots of alcohol on a more frequent and excessive basis. I was full of anger and repression and many times my family, friends, colleagues and legal opponents were the witnesses of or the victims of this anger and shouting - all while unknowing of the deep, dark secret that clouded my life for so long and created so much pressure upon me along with the effects of a very stressful job with many demands. Each venture out living life as Melissa brought me so much happiness but it also brought me guilt over my family’s lack of knowledge of what I was doing and who I really was I as a person. The guilt fed the anger and depression and both of these fed the need to express my true self as if I was caught up in a loop all while be hidden inside my shell. I woke up many days wondering whether the nightmare would ever end and I could find peace in my work…my life and my family and live my life as who I truly am and have always been.
The shell had taken a few hits and thrown off a few shreds but it was still very much intact as I moved into the new decade of the millennium. Its very existence, however, was threatened from a spirit blossoming inside of me as well as those “forces” on the outside in the form of the many people I continued to meet from my troubled community as well as some family issues lurking on the horizon. I knew my journey and healing was a long way from being complete but the path would grow shorter from all the forces about to converge upon me……………
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