Where the spirit of The Lord is, there is freedom

I suppose it's past time to address the elephant in the room: How do I justify being a Christian CD? The answer is simply that I don't; only God can justify.

Over time my feelings towards my gender presentation have been a rollercoaster ride. As a child I was ecstatic: female clothing - the styles, fabrics, and colors - possess an aesthetic that represent perfection to my eyes. The feminine form, to me, is the most beautiful of all of God's creations.

As I moved into my teen years this desire took on a dark side. It wasn't just the introduction of a sexual component; it was also the realization that something that had always seemed to be perfect was now somehow twisted and wrong.

As the years go by these feelings only intensify and you become an expert at lying to yourself and hiding the truth from everyone around you. What do you do when the very core of your existence is a source of shame? You push it down and it slithers back. You push harder and try desperately to replace the loss of self with something, anything else. Along the way you continue to live life and grow: you marry, have children, and start a career. The more things you accummulate the more things you have to lose if the secret ever comes bubbling back up.

One of the greatest moments in my life was the day my wife discovered my secret and was accepting. Finally I could let go of the shame and bask in the freedom of just being me. It changed everything and I vowed that I would never again live a life of shame or denial of truth.

Then I read Deuteronomy 22:5 and it all came crashing down:

A woman shall not wear anything that pertains to a man, nor shall a man put on a woman’s garment, for all who do so are an abomination to the Lord your God. (Deuteronomy 22:5 NKJV)

An abomination? Well, this is certainly much worse than any sense of shame or guilt I experienced before. Years of self-loathing; erased by a simple act of love; brought back in instant, with the reading of one sentence.

Of course I immediately set upon a course to rid myself of these feelings once and for all. Push it down, push it down. Pray for healing, pray for healing. Years go by and the feeling remains; buried deep, but always lurking under the surface, like a diabolical snare, waiting for me to trip.

Over time my faith waned. Oh, on the surface it seemed strong: I still attended church; I still read The Bible. But deep down I no longer felt God's presence. I could no longer commune with Him. I could no longer go to Him in times of trouble and strife. This became my hell on earth and was far worse than any feeeling of shame or guilt I had felt before.

There's more to this story, of course, much more. But for now I will simply say that I am tired of the fight. It is too big for me. I long to live a life of truth and so I turn back to God and relinquish this burden to Him.

For by Him all things were created that are in heaven and that are on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers. All things were created through Him and for Him. (Colossians 1:16 NKJV)

Was I created like this? I can't say with 100% certainty, but I can say that my gender variance is a part of me in a way that I have never been able to successfully will away or pray away. At this point in my life I have a very simple choice: I can continue to fight and isolate myself or I can joyfully embrace the gift of my life and allow God to use me for His glory. I choose life.

Dual I.D.

My day at the DMV wasn't a complete waste. I had plenty of time for people watching and personal reflection. While I filling out the license application I noticed that while the gender section had only the two standard choices there was also a checkbox for those that were changing their gender on their existing license. This gave rise to a though: Wouldn't it be great if I could check both boxes?

Shortly after arriving in Las Vegas my wife and I were enjoying a girls night out at a local casino. I won a little cash playing slots but the machine malfunctioned and wouldn't print out the payoff ticket; that meant a trip to the cashier. My wife volunteered to go for me, but I know she hates standing in line. Plus, one of her early pet peeves regarding accompanying Jocelyn in public was the fact that she ended up having to do all the talking, purchasing, etc. Her attitude was that if I was going to go out in public then I was going to have to interact with the public.

So, off I went. When my turn came I walked right up to the cashier and with a big smile explained what had happened.

"Sorry about the trouble honey. I just need to see your I.D."

"OK, but I'm dressed a little differently tonight."

Cashier looks at the I.D., looks at me, looks back at the I.D. "Ummm. Is your husband with you?"

"No. That's my I.D. I am just dressed a little differently."

"OK. But I need to see your I.D. so we can pay out the cash."

"Let's start over. That is my I.D. I am a man. I'm just dressed as a woman tonight."

Slowly the recognition washes over her face. "Oh, OK. Just a minute." She consults with her colleague.

"Ma'am, we're going to have to see your valid I.D."

Really? "Let me just go get my wife and you can use her I.D."

"Your wife?"

"Augghh!"

Explanation resumes, I'm starting to wonder when security is going to show up, and everyone in line is now throwing the "why are you holding up the line" stare my way.

One supervisor later everyone was satisfied and I got my $40 It's kind of humorous now, but there have been other situations like this and I think there's a simple solution: a dual I.D. One side would have Charlie's picture and the other side will have Jocelyn's picture.

Flying pretty would be easier. Getting pulled over by a police officer would be easier. Getting into the club would be easier, and cashing out massive winnings at the casino would be easier.

I think I'm going to write my congressman.

A Day at the DMV

Can there be any better way to spend a day than sitting at the DMV? Probably, but I didn't really have a choice today. After the elation of finding out that Tonya and I were selected for the project team came the horrible realization that my driver's license had expired.

Ya know, once you reach a certain age, no one asks for your I.D. anymore. I'd like to think I look pretty young for my age, but apparently I don't look "that" young. I swear my license was valid through my birthday this year, but  - YIKES - it expired in 2012!!! Luckily one of the first tasks we had to perform in our new roles was to set up travel profiles; otherwise this inconvenient little fact probably would have been discovered at the airport.

"Hey boss, thanks for the new position and everything, but can can you come bail me out of jail?"

Besides the horror of realizing I've been driving illegally for nearly two years, this lack of I.D. presented another thorny problem because my new position requires travel 3 - 4 weeks every month for the next 18 months.

A quick perusal of the DMV Website confirmed my worst fear: I was going to have to take the written AND the skills test. And I had to get everything done in 14 days. Just to throw in a little extra curveball, Nevada does not issue the license on-site; they mail them. So, I was gonna have to spend the better part of my day off waiting in lines to take a driver's test and then wait for a permit to arrive in the mail. Next it would take another day to take the skills portion and wait for the actual license to arrive in the mail. Meanwhile I would be on the other side of the country when the permit arrived in the mail. Clearly this wasn't going to work. So, I decided to just get a non-driver's identification card. At least this way I could fly. I wouldn't be able to rent a car, but I could fly.

So, last week I spent a lovely day hanging at the DMV. At least they had a snack bar. As I'm finishing up about an hour before closing time a super helpful DMV rep informs me that the Website is incorrect; I actually will NOT have to take the skills portion. Two of his colleagues concurred. Unfortunately, this meant I had spent the day in the wrong lines. And the line I needed to be was serpentined to the door. Thus the need for today's trip.

I really wasn't sure that my DMV friend was correct, but it was worth a shot. It only took about two hours of standing around to get into the testing room. I got 49 out 50 correct - success on my first try! - which was good because it cost $25 dollars. So now I get to order my license, right? Hold on there. Go get in that other long line to get a number to wait in an agonizingly long line.

So, with number G748 in hand I could hit the snack bar and find a comfy plastic chair. But first the guy handing out the numbers tells me that there card processor is down and they are only accepting cash. Of course there is no ATM in the building so off a go to the convenience store a 1/4 mile away. Oh, and remember I'll be walking because, yeah, I don't have a driver's license. I ask they guy if I had time to get back before they called me and, with a smirk, he pointed to the now serving number: "G502". Seriously?

Oh well, the walk was pleasant, especially after sitting for so long. When I returned with cash in hand they were serving G512. Yeah, this was gonna be ugly.

I started getting a little concerned when the line was down to only 100 people in front of me. I started timing the pace I found that it took 2-1/2 hours to get through 50 people. With people still in front of me we had only 1 hour 15 minutes until closing. It's starting to get hot and really smelly, so I decide that a little fresh air was in order. This was definitely the highlight of my day as two pigeons were fighting and there were people "betting" on which one would win - only in Vegas. It was hilarious; lots of chest butting and wing flapping. Just when one seemed to be getting the upper hand a guy came blustering by and scared them away. Crap.

Oh well, I only had about an hour before closing anyway. Good thing I went in when I did because now there were only 6 people in front of me! So, I made it. I will have an I.D. in time to fly out to California for our two day on-boarding meetings and I will have my actual license in time to fly out for first 3-week trip. Thank you, Lord!

New horizons

A little over two years ago I awoke, sat up, and said to my wife: "We should move to Las Vegas." Her response? "Ok." A few months later we found ourselves standing on The Las Vegas Strip. We really didn't have jobs locked down yet and only a vague idea of where we would live. What we did have, though, was faith.

A week ago we found out that our 260,000 person organization was about to embark on a transformative 18-month project and there were 15 positions open on the project team. We started our interviews by respectfully informing the recruiter that we could only consider an offer if we BOTH received an offer. The next day we were asked to join the team. Ten days from now we begin the opportunity of a lifetime.

Over the years many people have asked me how I could profess a love for God while self-identifying as a CD. This is why. As I review the past 6 years, God's unmistakable fingerprints abound in my life. I can barely comprehend the twists and turns, the missed and found opportunities, the people that have come and gone, all the tiny little things that have culminated in this opportunity.

Praise God.

Crossdressing as a mask

Do you ever get tired of questioning yourself? I know I do. Many years ago I decided that the constant barrage of questions in my head were not only not helping; they were making me unhappy. So, I decided simple acceptance was the best response. And it worked; for awhile. During the work week I am Charlie and on my days off I am Jocelyn - simple, safe, and comforting.

But you know the t-life seems to be one of constant escalation: First it's just panties and stockings, then makeup and wig, then full-on dress outside the house. Is the ultimate culmination always transition, or at least thoughts of transition?

I'm not sure of exactly when these thoughts started building in my mind, but they have gained prominence in the last year. I'm sure that some of it is related to life changes. Our children are adults and we've moved to the other side of the country. Perhaps with decreased family responsibilities it's begun to feel safer, or more appropriate to think a little more selfishly. The big question is: Do these thoughts really represent an escalation or were they always there?

I remember the first time I discovered there were others like me on the Internet. What a revelation! I was not the only one in the world with these thoughts. Maybe I wasn't so strange after all. And with this revelation came a measure of acceptance and an escalation in what could be possible. But this revelation has a dark side as well: Spending too much time with T-blogs can sometimes become a bit of an echo chamber. There is a very real danger that we will simply hear what we want to hear and go deeper down the rabbit hole without even realizing why.

Why? That's the real question, isn't it? Why do these feelings exist? Why do they persist? What do I get out of this?

I find it difficult to putt into words, but "being" a woman is just more "fun'. God, is that a shallow as it sounds? Yeah, it probably is. Crap.

It's just that women's clothes feel better, they look better, they are way more stylish and varied. Makeup and painted nails are fun, and dare I say it, sexy! It's boring being a man. It's also tiring. Men are expected to be and act a "certain way" and there is a price to pay for those who diverge from the "agreed upon" standards. All of us understand what it's like to not quite fit in with the guys around us, but is crossdressing the only response? Can't I just be a man that is just a bit different?

For me the answer is a definite "Maybe". Charlie has an androgynous hairstyle, long nails painted with a clear coat, and thin eyebrows. I'm comfortable with this, but not comfortable with the "just being a man" part. I still crave the Jocelyn side as well. And for me, the Jocelyn side is all woman. I am definitely not comfortable being seen as a "guy in a dress" or, to be honest, even just as a crossdresser. When I am out as Jocelyn I want to be seen as a woman.

I love going out as Jocelyn. I love the attention that never comes to Charlie. I love the way women talk to other women; so much better than the way men talk to other men. And I love the way spending time on both sides of the gender fence gives me deeper insights into human nature.

Years ago I stopped wearing wigs. Going with my natural hair is way less work and much cooler, but also means Jocelyn and Charlie really don''t look all that different. It's funny, but I easily pass as a woman 99.9% of the time. I've always been a bit puzzled by this, though. My wife and I are a fairly unique couple: We're nearly identical in size, have similar hairstyles, are a mixed-race couple, and we are always together. Yet, people that have known us for years have bumped into us out and about when I was dressed and asked Tonya where Charlie was. Were they just being polite or did they really not know?

I've finally realized what it is: people simply don't pay that much attention to their surroundings. People see a short, petite figure and their brain says, "female". People see eyeshadow and lipstick and their brain says, "female".  And that's great, I suppose. But is all this just a mask?

I was walking through a store the other and took notice of two little girls around the age of 5 or 6. Suddenly it hit me that I have no idea what their lives are like now or what their lives would be like growing up as girls. I have never had and never will have the experience of "being" a girl. Is their experience even appreciably different than mine?

So, I ask again: Is this all just a mask? I thought I had this figured out. Or, at least I thought I had come to terms with the fact it was OK if I didn't have it all figured out. Now, all these new questions are swirling around in my head and it really sucks.

I took a walk this morning to clear my head and right as I was returning home "Big Eyed Fish" by The Dave Matthews Band popped up on my playlist. The lyrics seem pretty apropos today.

Look at this big eyed fish swimming in the seaOh how it dreams he wants to be a bird, swoopin', divin’ through the breezeOne day, caught a big old wave up on to the beach, now he's dead you see,Beneath the sea is where a fish should be But oh god under the weight of life Things seem brighter on the other side

New year. New questions.

I've never been one to make New Year's resolutions, but this year I've resolved to  reexamine my gender expression. I can't think of a better way to start that process than spending the day in my (currently) preferred gender. There's something not quite right about that statement: I don't have a girl-mode and a guy-mode. I don't switch back-and-forth, or think differently based on the clothes I wear. I'm just me.

Learning about autogynephilia has answered so many questions for me. I have never "felt like a woman". Frankly, I really don't even know what that means. What does a woman "feel" like anyway? But, if I have never felt that I was born in the wrong body, why do I have the desire to dress as one?

Thirty years ago the answer would have been mostly based on eroticism; today not so much. If I had to choose just one thing as a primary motivator I would say it is beauty. I find women's bodies to be stunningly beautiful while men's bodies seem clumsy in comparison. Women's clothing - shoes, fabrics, colors, styles, etc. - are so much more varied and appealing. The artistry of makeup is wonderful in its ability to enhance and change one's appearance. These are the components that lead to the desire to crossdress. I understand them. What I have been a bit unsure of recently is my increasing preoccupation with the idea of changing my body.

Throughout my life I have almost always been the shortest person in the room. I stopped growing in the 7th grade, topping out at 5'4". Despite my short stature I was exceptionally athletic and loved playing sports. In many ways I was the typical boy: playing sports, wrestling in the mud, and riding off-road motorcycles. I was atypical in many ways as well. I never really participated in such typical male bonding rituals such as punching each other to see who would flinch, or bragging about sexual conquests. And I never thought my disinterest in typical male rituals made me less masculine.

As an adult I have enjoyed the male role in relationships with women and I absolutely have relished every moment of being a father. The last 23-years of my life have been lived as a husband and a father and I wouldn't have wanted it to be any other way.

Today things are a bit different. I find myself considering taking steps to acquire feminine breasts/hips and rid myself of unwanted hair. And, rather than eroticism, the desire seems to be rooted in the simple fact that these things would make my presentation as female much easier and more realistic.

The biggest question I find myself facing is why do I want to take things further? I have so many crossdressing blessings. I am 5'4" tall and weigh 110 pounds. My wife is exceptionally supportive and happily goes out with me as her female friend. We are the same size so we don't have the extra expense of maintaining a second wardrobe. All my friends and family are supportive and I am easily accepted as female by the general public as I go about my daily business. So why mess with success?

I've been pondering these questions for a few months now. I still don't have all the answers, but I don't have to in order to enjoy the first day of 2014 out and about dressed as a woman. I just wish it didn't require nearly an hour of shaving, extra makeup to hide beard shadow, and extra padding to properly fill out my clothes.

Happy New Year. I'm an autogynephilic transsexual.

Well, that didn't take long. This blog was started as a personal thought experiment. I hoped that by typing out my thoughts I could gain some insight into my place in the world and where I see myself going in the future. I'm not sure I had a specific timetable in mind, but I expected the self-discovery phase to last more than a week! Too bad I didn't read this piece by Anne Lawrence earlier; I could have saved myself some wondering.

Autogynephilia? Ewww.

I loathe the alphabet soup of terminology that so dominates our conversations on gender. While categorizing behavior may have benefits from a clinical perspective, on blogs and forums across the Web terms like TG, TS, and CD are too often used as a cudgel to assert the superiority of one's own behavior over a fellow traveller. I'm sorry,  but your life story is no more valid than mine simply because you claim our motivations for wearing a dress differ.

I've been away from gender-related discussions for quite some time, so my first exposure to the term "autogynephilia" came recently on Jack Molay's excellent blog, Crossdreamers.

Autogynephilia is a controversial topic and charged with emotion. For a few weeks I didn't put much thought into it because: Hey. I don't have a fetish. I'm not weird; I just like to wear a dress. But this morning I came across Anne Lawrence's take and it just clicked: She described me to a "T" (pardon the pun).

Changes in desire

I suspect my recently renewed interest in exploring gender in my own life has been prompted by the slow, creeping realization that my desires have changed.  I have lived a happy crossdressing life the past 17 years. The desire ebbs and flows, sometimes disappearing for months at a time, but it never disappears completely. When the desire is at its peak I generally live and work 5 days a week as a male and my 2 days off as a female, with the random girl's night out. Lately I have found myself wondering what it would be like if that ratio swapped. As I get older the idea of living my life primarily (or even exclusively) as a woman is gaining more appeal.

Change in desire or change in possibilities?

The old joke: "What the difference between and CD and a TS? Two years." is particularly apropos for me. If I am to be honest, this idea isn't really new to me. If I had the courage, the knowledge of gender issues, and the support system I have now I very likely would have chosen a different path those many years ago. This isn't so much a change as it is a new possibility.

For many years I chose to suppress this desire because of shame. Then I chose to suppress because I wanted my children to have a father. Now I choose to suppress because I want my wife to have a husband. But what if she was OK with having a girlfriend? Hmm. One question answered; thousands more to go.