Consuming My Thoughts

Big snow storm supposedly coming our way in the next twenty-four hours. My forty-five minute drive home turned into an hour and forty-five.The entirety of my thoughts on the way home were consumed by the issue at hand. My identity issues. I tuned into the radio to divert my mind, but it's difficult enough when I have fleeting moments to myself when I can focus on my thoughts, but exponentially more so when I have to be in the car alone that long and all I have to worry about is the snow covered interstate. Probably should have had my undivided attention on the road conditions, but living in northern Ohio has dulled my senses to the to the pending danger. I find myself constantly attempting to assess my identity and how I could explain it to others if the need arises. Despite all of my fears about "coming out", I feel that I would be less frightened if I could eloquently describe my reasons. For some silly reason, I think that if I could describe such things , the listener might have an epiphany about crossdressing and transgenderism and think "that makes total sense and I am behind you one hundred percent". Ha, talk about a fantasy world. The problem is, most people I would guess have preconcieved notions, prejudices about what crossdressing is all about. "Oh, he's some sort of sexual deviant" I would presume. I'm not sure why I feel this way, it may be a totally false assumption. Possibly stemming from my upbringing in an essentially right-wing Christian home.
 I read on another crossdressers blog, Christian Crossdresser, I believe; where they received a comment from some hater saying that there is something wrong with crossdressers and he wished we would just go to a doctor and get fixed and quit existing in our society. I'm paraphrasing of course, but that was the gist of it. The author goes on to say that a doctor can fix us via HRT or SRS. I would have responded to the comment in a different way: I wish I could be fixed. This is a tortured life, and more so for those girls that have gone many steps further by coming out to their families, trying to stay in the workforce, moving on to gender re-assignment. I couldn't imagine the trials, and I would suspect that most of us wish we didn't have these gender issues. Think about it, wouldn't it be so much easier to not have to deal with this and just be happy with who we are and the way we look. I can hear the detractors now: THEN JUST DEAL WITH IT AND BE HAPPY WITH WHO YOU ARE. Well folks, it's not that easy. I can't explain why it's not. I don't have the answer at this moment. That is what I am seeking. I have purged my crossdressing ways many times over the years with the vow to just quit. It has always come back and I have kicked myself for getting rid of a lot of good stuff, lol! I am a Christian and have prayed relentlessly over it. "Dear Lord, please take this burden away or please show me the direction I must go to break this "habit"." I have prayed in desperation for years to no avail. The feelings have only gotten stronger. I feel I must now take this as a hint, that maybe it is not something that is meant to be taken away. It is part of who I am and I must live with it and learn from it. If this is the case, I have guesses and opinions as to why it is meant to be one of my trials (compassion and understanding for others?). But I will never know I guess until I get to heaven, 

Well, in my last and premier blog I promised I will tell you about myself in this one. I wish to remain anonymous at this time for my sake, my wife's sake and my families sake. So I will be as descriptively vague as possible:) I am in my late 20's(which has me a little depressed for reasons I'll share at a later time), I live northern Ohio and I have been married for a few years to a wonderful woman. I can trace my gender issues back to a specific time. Or if this was something I was born with, back to a specific time when they survaced. I was 3 or 4 years old and lived next to a boy who did not grow up in the most nurturing environment. He was my age, but knew far more than I ever did about "adult" things. Even though I was sheltered, he knew more about these "adult" things than practically any kid his age or any 10 year old for that matter. We played in the sandbox and rode bikes, played with toy cars and got into some mischief at his beckoning. One day I suppose, he wanted to play house, and I remember this vividly. He designated me to be the "girl" and instructed me to insert 2 nerf baseballs in my shirt. These would be my boobs. I didn't even know what they were, but I knew that girls had them. He advised that as the girl, I was supposed to perform oral sex on him. Of course he didn't say "oral sex" but I'm trying to keep this a mature as possible. I don't recall feeling as if it were wrong, I guess I didn't know. He then let me know that he we were supposed to engage in anal sex. Again, not the exact words I'm sure. To both of these requests I obliged willingly as the concept of  "playing house" interested me much more than playing with cars. Which by the way became the options in the future: "do you want to play cars or house" he would ask. I always wanted to play house. I never remember receiving any sort of stimulation by these acts, I think my body was too young to know the difference. To my memory, this went on half a dozen times at least and we got caught a few times by our parents which quickly made me realize that this was wrong. Though I wasn't sure why. I just knew that I would get scolded. I always wanted to play house though, over doing something else. Girls love to play house don' t they? Just not in the fashion which we played house.
The next time that I remember experimenting with my feminine side, was probably around the age of 12. Trying on Mom's bra's, panties and hose, curious about how they felt I guess. This went on periodically until I was 14 or so. I got caught in Mom's teddy by Dad. I wasn't expecting him home. Mom wasn't around and we had a conversation. He was surprising good about the whole thing. He said didn't understand, but tried to comfort me by saying it looked good on me and telling me about his experience with drugs as a youngster. I was assume that he was trying to say that we all do things that we shouldn't at times. He said Mom didn't know that he had done drugs and if I wouldn't tell her that, he wouldn't tell her this. Thinking back on it, wow, he was really great about the whole thing. Probably the best parenting he did in my whole life. But, foolish boy I was, I didn't run with the opportunity laid before me of a sympathetic parent, I vowed never to do such a thing again. I was totally embarrassed. 

My private time is up now, so I must cut short this post. I will be back with more about me shortly. Again, hoping you are finding this blog at least entertaining, but hopefully insightful. Comments of all nature are welcome!

Hugs and Kisses,
~Ave