Wearing the uniform... a different take...

It's 1978, the war in Vietnam is over, in May of that year I get on a plane to Kentucky. Ft Knox, to be exact. It was the first part of my introduction into the world of the military. I was starting basic training. I spent twelve years in the Army. Twelve years of getting up in the morning and putting on a uniform so that I would fit in with the rest of my unit. Twelve years of making sure that everything was it the right place, what was supposed to shine was glistening and what was to be pressed had creases so sharp they could cut you. I am proud of my time in the Army. I learned a lot, I grew as a person. I also learned how to hide my true self. There have been some recent studies that indicate that as many as 40% (or more) of M to F transgender individuals served in the military, if you add in those of us that went on to be police, fire, and other high risk and hyper masculine professions, I'm sure the number would be significantly higher.

 In addition to all the other things I learned, putting on the uniform is perhaps the most profound. In this case, I use it as more of an analogy than anything else. In my case, I am not out at work, I just started a new job and I'm not comfortable introducing my new co-workers to Vicki (although I expect that they will meet me eventually). In my current circumstance I have come to look upon the clothes I wear to work every day as my “uniform”. My way of blending in, being part of the unit. In this case the uniform regulations are not as stringent as they were in the Army. The rules I was given were that I shouldn't wear it if someone can “see over it, under it, or through it”... A far cry from pressed utilities and spit shined boots, but it does help me keep my sanity...

I suppose that in the interest of keeping my house, and paying my bills, I have put myself back in the closet. Although I was not out at my last job, a number of people know "the secret". So, I suppose that not being out at my new job is not so much a step backward as a continuation of the status quo.  My time between jobs, when I was able to dress daily was eye opening. I learned a lot. I became comfortable with, or at least resigned to, the path my life has taken. I don't know where my path will take me, but I do know that my wife and I are taking Vicki along for the trip.

A week with Vicki.... The Conclusion

That's right folks, my week (Actually nine days) is over, but it's not. It was an interesting time, I learned a lot. I also found out how little I knew (profound, right). The one thing that really stood out for me was how easily I walked out the door and how easily I took insult. Whenever someone in my immediate vicinity giggled, I knew it was about me, I knew they were laughing at me. Except, of course I didn't. I could make an assumption, but that was all. I had no way of knowing what was said or at whom it was directed. I had to come to grips with the fact that I stand out, that I will attract attention (I'm 5' 10", really tall in heels). I was also struck by the number of people that didn't seem to care one way or the other and the number that were gracious and kind.

Now that the experiment is over, are my days dressing over? No, not at all. This has helped me build confidence. I can go anywhere (within reason) and interact with people. Most people are so wrapped up in their day to day lives that they take no notice of the world and people around them, something I was also guilty of, I have started being much more aware of my surroundings and the people that inhabit them. I know that regardless of how my life will unfold, I can be me.

This has been and will continue to be an interesting and eye opening experience, bittersweet and exciting. I did not choose this, all I can do is make the best of it... In the immortal words of Donna Summer, "I will survive". Thanks to the love of my wife, I will thrive, we will thrive...

Vicki

Time for an aside...

If you've been following this blog you know that I've been going full time since last Saturday. One incident stands out for me, not because of how it affected me but rather how I interpreted it. I had a lunch date with a good friend of mine, I had arrived somewhat early (I'm German, it's in my nature) and decided to go and get us a table, it was close to lunch time and didn't want to have to wait to be seated. The hostess was very pleasant and gracious. The waitress, after an over-emphasized initial "ma'am" was pleasant and efficient. Everything one would expect from a well-run restaurant.

My friend was delayed in getting to the restaurant and while I was waiting a woman was seated in the booth across from me, she was also waiting for someone. After five or so minutes her party arrived and they proceeded to move to another table. Now my first thought was that she was moving because I was there, dressed... I've had time to rethink that... how could I possibly know why they moved, maybe they didn't like sitting close to the window, maybe they wanted to be closer to the kitchen... who knows. What I do know is that I cannot assume that my being TG is the reason they moved. Guess what, it's not all about me... It's not all about us... and taking offense for something that we cannot be certain of is the height of conceit. This is a mistake that I will not make again (I hope)...

A week with Vicki... Part 2

First off I need to make a correction, I will be going (mostly) full-time for nine days. So far I've found my time positive. I know that I've been "made" a time or two (I hold not misconceptions regarding my appearance), but at no time have I felt uncomfortable. I went to lunch with a good friend and former co-worker today, it was the first time she had met Vicki in person, always nerve-wracking, it went really well and we had a good talk. On a side note, a lady was placed at the table across the aisle from me, she sat and waited for her friend to arrive, when she did, they ask to be moved, now I can't say for sure it was because of me or some other reason, but it brought to light something in me that I need to acknowledge: just because something happens in proximity to me doesn't mean it's in response to my presence, it's not all about me...

I am feeling more comfortable in my own skin and with that comfort comes confidence... We'll see where this takes me...

A week with Vicki... Part 1

With fear, excitement, trepidation, and exhilaration, I'm undertaking an experiment of sorts. I'm dressing full-time. Now don't get me wrong, I have been out and about before, but this is the first time that I've dressed from morning to night for more than a day, as well as doing mundane daily chores... Including (GASP!) going to Walmart for food, and (another GASP!) interacting with people! I know that it really doesn't sound like a big thing, everyone goes to the store or out to lunch.

My adventure started on this past Saturday when I braved the outside world and drove to a local hamburger joint in order to get us lunch... I got a "sir" at the drive through and a ma'am at the window... I can live with that... Sunday was an even greater adventure when my spouse and I went to a local community center for a Story Time, I'll have to remember  to bring tissues for the next one. Yesterday (Monday) I did the Walmart and today my spouse and I are going out for lunch. Again, nothing earth shattering, except for me, it is... Well, not earth shattering exactly, but profound.We'll see how this week goes and what it means for the future...

Time to catch up

It's been a while since I've posted anything here. The challenge that I seem to come up against is writing something worth saying. For me, as I live my life from day to day, all the events that occur seem to me to be mundane and unremarkable, but that's because they are happening to me. Someone on the outside looking in will see them differently than I do. That leads me on to this...

Nothing much is going on, I get up, take care of my morning activities, get dressed, go to work, come home, get comfortable, and relax. These are the normal activities of a multitude of people out there. These people are male or female, straight or gay, cis or trans, or any combination and variation therein. We come in all colors and nationalities. Nothing special but we are each important in our own way...

Why my journey is different is because I have to hide who I truly am in order for society to accept me. Over time I have become more comfortable appearing in public as Vicki. I know people stare, but I really don't care (or like to think I don't). The funny thing is most people could care less.

Currently, I am not out at work, so for a good portion of my day I am back in the closet, I want to be able to break out of that closet and be the person I was meant to be but my fear is that I will be ridiculed and belittled. I fear the whispered comments and side remarks, the loss of respect, and the loss of friendships. I have not yet decided which is worse for me, continuing to live  repressing myself or the reaction of the people in my life should I choose to come out to the world...

I have on occasion heard that we choose to be trans, I have to respond with, "what sort of an idiot would intentionally choose this?" It is not a matter of choice, it's a matter of survival...

Oh, and by the way, closets are for clothes, lots and lots of FABULOUS clothes...

Hugs and Kisses...

Vicki

A goodbye...

Today's post is not about dressing, to day I want to talk about something off topic, but I need to share it in any case... Fifteen years ago, my spouse and I took into our family a new addition. She was all cute and fuzzy and wiggly, and we decided to call her Belle. We had to go back twice, but she was the one. The place was Pets on Parade, it was located at a now defunct pet food store here in town, the event occurred once a month and allowed people to bring their animals to a location for sale. I don't remember what we paid for her, my spouse has a better head for numbers and such, but I can tell you that she was worth every penny. She filled our lives with love and joy and play. Belle was a Blue Merl Australian Shepard and we love her.

The reason I bring this up is that we had to let her go yesterday, she was no longer able to support her own weight, eating had become a challenge, and she was deaf. It pained us to watch her rapid deterioration, but we were hopeful that with medications she would bounce back, she didn't. It became our chore to decide for her that it was time, it became our expression of the love we felt for her to be with her as she slipped away from us...

We love you Belle, and we miss you... I hope you are chasing all the squirrels you want and have great big bed to sleep in...

I find myself in a bout of self reflection, again unsure of my path in life. I've read a number of books and articles on transgenderism and transsexualism and predominantly the person writing has a definite self awareness of being in the wrong body. They know (or at least claim to know) beyond any shadow of a doubt that they need to transition. I envy their certainty, I don't have that. In my case it may just be a function of coming so late to the realization that I'm more comfortable in women's clothes, I didn't start wearing them until three years ago, at the age of fifty. Oh I played around, wearing my mother's castoff clothes (I was a lot skinnier back then), but that didn't have the same impact on me as my more recent foray into dressing. Currently I come home from work, give my wife a hug and a kiss, and head to the bedroom to get "comfortable". These days getting comfortable means a tank top, skirt, and breast forms. I skip the makeup and wig, there’s little need since we usually stay home.

I have come to the realization that I am me, the same person regardless of the clothes I wear. This simple fact is what leads me to my insecurity and makes me question myself... If I am always "me" then why do I need to dress? Why do I feel incomplete and out of place until I change my clothes? What is driving me in this direction? I don't know. I wonder if this is the clue that tells me that I need to be Vicki full time (yes I mean transitioning). On the other hand it could be an indication that I don't, that I can thrive in this sort of limbo I find myself in. I really don't know, and more frightening is that I don't know how to find out or make that decision. I am going to a counselor to try and work through this, to come to that point where I can be decisive about my gender. At least that's what I hope will be the end result!

Awake again, I've had another one of those nights when my brain will not stop. I should actually be out running, but instead I sit in front of my computer and blog, lucky you :)

Our couples counselor pointed out to us (Yes I am married. Yes she knows) that taking all the random thoughts we have and inviting them for tea is a problem. I do this really well, I invite them in, feed and nurture them, give them a nice comfortable place to live where they can spread the toxic fumes. I have entire conversations in my head, the whole "If I had only said this then you would have said that, and I would have been the winner" conversation. These things lead us nowhere, they are not productive in any sense of the imagination and only work to further our own fears and phobias.

So, I have decided to work on evicting them, one by one, it's going to be hard and messy and painful. They've been there so long that they have become a fixture in my mind...

Now I know you're asking yourself, what does this have to do with cross dressing or trangenderism, well, think about it, when it comes time to tell someone, what do you do? I know what I do, I have the entire conversation in my mind, I know every response they are going to give, except that I don't, and in the end I never have the conversation because I've scared myself out of it. This is unfair to the person and toxic to me (Or you). It really comes down to respecting them enough to let them make their own decision, some will accept you, some will reject you. That is their decision.

What most people never recognize is that the person we are every day, and have been for most of our lives isn't changing, but rather is being given the chance to see the light of day. I don't have a split personality, one of the male and the other female, I have one and it is there all the time. So when Vicki is around, I'm still me...

Okay, enough of this early morning rambling...

Hugs and Kisses... Vicki

A new conundrum

Which is the costume? I've been spending some time thinking about that. I get up in the morning and put on my work clothes, almost like I did when I was in the Army wearing my uniform. I don't feel uncomfortable in them, I don't feel out of place or wrong. When I get home, I change into my girl clothes, this is my relaxation and unwinding time. I'm dressed the rest of the night until bedtime, here is where the issues arise. I don't want to take off the clothes and the breast forms... It's like I'm taking off Vicki... I know that I can put the clothes back on the next day.

I know it sounds like a small thing, and it only lasts for a few moments as I'm undressing, but it feels so much more significant.

And when did you.... ?

Good morning world, yes it is morning here in Colorado, way too early morning. I found that I couldn't sleep any more, my mind was all too active. How did I end up like this, why am I trans? The truth is I don't know, it certainly wasn't a choice. I mean, who would choose this? It affects everyone in your life, and by no means is it a positive thing. I sets you up for ridicule and discrimination. A lot of people won't understand and when we don't understand something, we tend to marginalize it.

I was watching a student video on Youtube the other day, the interviewer was asking people on the street some simple questions, first "Is being gay a choice?" and of course there are a wide range of answers, the ones that the interviewer was interested in were the ones where the person answered "yes". Now we know that sexual orientation is not a choice (at least I hope we do), the follow-up question for these people then became, "And when did you choose to be straight?". 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJtjqLUHYoY 

The responses were amazing, in some you could almost hear the click when they come to the realization that it's not a choice. So let me ask you, when did you choose your gender :)

Hugs and Kisses

Vicki

Realizations

I recently did a down and dirty review of "She's Not There" by Jennifer Boylan. I didn't give you any meat and potatoes to go along with it, and I won't here either... Read the book ;)

After finishing the book I was down and dejected and confused (not a glowing recommendation I know, but it wasn't the book's fault). I really didn't understand why. I still find it difficult to verbalize what and why I was feeling the way I did. I've slowly come to piece it together.

 Firstly, and most profoundly, this is a book written from the point of view of a transgender person. Not a psychologist, not a spouse, but the person themselves. The nature of our condition is such that we live in secret, we hide our need to change genders not just from the outside world but ourselves as well. It took me 40 odd years and some pushing and prodding from others to come to grips with my need to dress and I know I'm not alone in this. With that as a background, is it any wonder that there are very few voices tell our story? We need to tell these stories, the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, because if we don't we will never be heard and we will continue to live in the shadows and be marginalized. We will continue to be victims. To tell you the truth, I'm scared, I'm scared of what my friends, family, and co-workers will think of me when they find out, and eventually, they will, no secret is forever.

I also came to realize that although Jenny's story is not my story, there are many similarities. When I look back at my life, I had always been a loner. I never really fit in with my peer group. I was always a little odd. I attributed it to having grown up in Germany, I came here not speaking English. The town we moved to was quite small, a few hundred families in a farming and ranching community, this added to my isolation, I hadn't grown up with these people, I would always be the outsider, "the little German boy". This wasn't out of meanness or spite, it just was. As I grew older and started exploring dressing, the feeling of wrongness I experienced was just attributed to that earlier feeling of not belonging. I was one big ball of outsider-ism... All of these feelings kept me from being open and honest with myself and kept me from realizing who and what I am. Jenny's book brought that all crashing down around my ears, here was someone that was an outsider like I was and for the same reason... OMG I was not alone!!!

I'm reading the book for a second time, taking more time with it, hoping for more profoundities...

I'll keep you all posted!

Things that make you go "Hmmmm"

Why is the focus on "Same-sex Marriage"? Don't get me wrong, I strongly believe that all of us are entitled the same rights and marriage is among them, but it misses the point. Being treated equally regardless of our gender expression or sexuality is much more important. The focus needs to be on equal rights for all of us regardless of our minority. To my mind, overturning DOMA is much more profound and important.

Let's talk about the bathroom issue. Somehow a transgendered person going to the bathroom is supposedly a sexual event. Now think this through, for most trans people the simple act of going to the bathroom is an exercise in courage. The last thing we want to do is stand out. Assuming that it has anything more to do than voiding our respective bladders is preposterous. If it were true then the same would have to apply the gays and lesbians; but that's not the case for them any more than it is for us. (I'm sure that some of you will take offense at the thought) 

Did you know the for most of the country, I could be fired or evicted from my home just for being transgender... Think about that. 

First stab at a book review

I'm a voracious reader, well I used to be until television got me back into it's nasty grasp again. I fought my way clear long enough to be able to pick up a book to read. Like most of TGs I search incessantly for information on cross dressing and transgenrerism, with a mixed bag of success. Some books give tasty little tidbits of wonderful information interspersed with gobs of drivel, a lot of them don't even bother with the tasty tidbits. I've read "My Husband Betty" and "She's not the Man I Married" and found them both informative and well written, but they never clicked with me the way that Jennifer Boylan's "She's Not There" did. I won't go into detail, what resonated for me may not even get a twinge from you, but if you are looking for a glimpse into what it's like to be TG, or someone to relate to that is traveling a similar road to your own, "She's Not There" is the book for you.

Fear and self-loathing

 Fear and uncertainty rule my life. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that I'm not the only one that feels like that. For me it's because I don't know where I'm going to end up at the end of my journey. I'm not taking hormones and other than shaving everything except for my head, I haven't made any changes, and therein lies my problem. I'm sitting and look down at my chest and I'm disappointed... My natural breasts are too small and my breast forms don't look or feel right. I want to feel the weight and movement, the feel of the fabric against my skin. Now as I think about this I wonder if this is a need to change my body to match how I feel or is this a manifestation of a need to be accurate in my cross dressing... Am I a cross dresser, a Transsexual or something in between... I am uncertain... Is it vanity or a true need? How do I tell the difference?

I am on the horns of a dilemma and it's awfully uncomfortable....

A number of years ago, I was married to my now ex - wife and I had this recurring dream or fantasy... My dream was that I would be able to swap bodies at will, swap between male and female bodies specifically. I would be able to experience the same sensations that she would feel. It started out being a sexual fantasy, wanting to feel what she felt. The dream grew and morphed, eventually it became wanting to know the feeling of having breasts and a vagina. Pure fantasy, I know. It was something that could only exist in a dream.

At the time I didn’t realize the significance of these dreams, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. Since coming to realize that I was transgendered I can see all of the little cues in my past, all those little things that said I was different.

The scarey thing about being transgender is that unlike my dream, it's a one way trip, once I commit to being Vicki, there is no going back, I can't un-tell all the people I shared this secret with, I can't change the pain and fear I caused them. It scares me to the very root of my being, it makes me question myself and what I feel, is this real or just some bazar psychological manifestation... And yet, after I told one of my sisters, she looked at my Facebook page and commented on how much happier I looked as Vicki than my male self.

So that leads me to come to this realization. This path that we are on is twisted and convoluted, filled with sinkholes, sharp bends, and roadblocks. At the end of our journey we are not guaranteed happiness or contentment, only survival... We have to be the ones that give ourselves the permission to be happy... I intend to be happy... Anything less would be an insult to all my friends and family that continue to love and support me...

To all of you, THANK YOU! I love you all!

Over last weekend, I came to an interesting conclusion... Three days without dressing is stressful. Now I really didn't set out to not dress for three days, it just sort of happened that way. To start of on Friday, my SO and I spent the daylight hours after work loading brush from our yard into my truck so that we could take it to a place that uses it for mulch the next morning. By the time we were done we were both hot and sweaty, I was not in the mood to change at that point. Saturday was much the same in that we dropped off the load (more hot and sweaty, not very conducive to dressing). Yes I did shower and I could certainly have changed after returning home, but I decided to stay in guy mode. Now dawns Sunday, bright and warm and sunny... This gave me a conundrum, do I dress or do we go out (While one does not exclude the other, I hesitate to go out during the day)... I chose to not dress, not something I regretted doing, but it did cause me a bit of stress. This stress escalated throughout the day and I dealt with it. I wound up feeling uncomfortable and out of sorts. This is not a new feeling, previously I would feel this pressure when I hadn't dressed for a week or more, this was the first time that I had this strong a reaction after so short a time.

Hi all, it's Vicki again... I'll be updating the the name of my blog here in the near future, I haven't decided what to call it yet, so if you have any reasonable suggestions, please feel free, your input is welcome.

Wow! Has it really been almost a year? I'm shocked. Well  a lot has happened in the intervening months... So much so that I feel the need to rename myself. Bobbie was a childhood name for me and I really needed to find an identity that embraces who I am now. So Bobbie is becoming Victoria... Victoria Addams... Vicki for short...