The early years....

   Have you ever experienced those days when nothing you attempt doing seems to go right for you? Well I have had one of those lives.

  It started out with not seeming to fit in as a young child around the age of 5 or 6. Growing up on a farm in Ohio didn't leave much of a choice for playmates. The nearest town was 3 1/2 miles from the farm so going into town to see schoolmates wasn't an option readily available to me. Although I did have an older brother around while growing up, the two of us didn't have much of a family relationship due to completely different interests and personalities. He was your typical boy who liked the rough and tumble games, spending time with dad working on cars or equipment, playing sports, and hunting. I, on the other hand, was often refered to as a mamas boy since I found more enjoyment staying close to home with mom learning the things typically associated with girls such as sewing, cooking, housekeeping, ect..

  While my brother was more at ease with being out and about with friends playing basketball or baseball, I was more at ease being alone in my room or walking in the woods playing pretend games. I tried my hand at sports and soon found out I wasn't cut out for them. I suppose it was around the age of 7 when I first experimented trying on my mothers clothes. I didn't know then anything about gender issues or that I was having my first signs of gender identity disorder. All I knew was I felt so much more relaxed and at ease when I would wear them. It soon became something that I needed to do as frequently as I could as I became more and more withdrawn into my imaginary world and wanted less to do with my family. After some time had passed, I felt I had to find a way to have clothing that actually came closer to fitting me so I started taking more and more chances by secretly stealing a cousins clothes. She was a little older than myself but relatively close to my size. Seeing myself dressed up in a pretty dress with all the proper undergarments and girls shoes made me see for the first time in my life, that this is how I was supposed to look. I couldn't understand why I had to be a boy when inside I knew I was supposed to be a girl.

  I suppose it was the missing clothes from my cousin's house that prompted a search at our house and ended up with my secret being discovered. Upon finding the hidden clothes, I was forced to put them on and parade in front of family members facing the worst humiliation of my life. I suppose my parents felt that this was the best way to get me to stop this behavior. When it only ceased for a short time because of the need to express the little girl buried inside me they decided the next thing was to put me into the care of a psychiatrist. Back in the late 60s and early 70s, gender identity disorder wasn't something most doctors had any knowledge about. Especially around small towns in Ohio. The only diagnosis he was able to come up with was it was a phase I would outgrow given time. Needless to say, I never did outgrow it and the need continued to grow stronger as time passed.