Myra Breckinridge

Gore Vidal passed away this week.  He was a giant in the literary world and a fascinating man who knew a lot of fascinating people.  I don't read a lot of novels, but I did read Myra Breckinridge many years ago, and it spawned a family mystery that I have never solved.

Sometime back in the 1970s I was staying with relatives for the summer.  At the time I thought I was a young crossdresser (terms like "transgender" and "autogynephilia" hadn't been coined yet) and took every opportunity to dress in old clothes that I might find, read anything on the subject that might be in print (there was very little legit info in print back then), and hypnotically watch anything on television dealing with the subject (which was normally relegated to rare news stories about transexuals).  Yes, for the enlightenment of the younger ready, forty years ago mankind was basically an ignorant brute as evidenced by the polyster fashion of the day, but I digress....  I was staying with relatives for the summer and had the run of the house and the small town where we lived.

One afternoon I happened to go nosing through a closet full of old clothes and lots of "junk".  None of the clothes really caught my eye, but I found some old magazines and books that appeared interesting.  Once I had dug down into the middle of the stack, I discovered that sandwiched between reams of general family-targeted magazines were a couple of girlie magazines and a paperback copy of Myra Breckinridge.

I examined the girlie magazines first as I was most familiar with those.  They had the usual centerfolds and layouts of gorgeous nude women, but one item that both copies had in common was that they both had layouts of some hermaphrodites as well.  I was puzzled by this coincidence and mesmerized by these naked bodies that were both male and female.  I had never seen anything like that before.

Then I turned my attention to the book and began reading it.  To the best of my knowledge, I had never heard anything about this book or about the author, yet something drove me to read it.  The two magazines had been major important finds for me and a hunch told me this book was right up my alley as well.  Over the course of a week I sneaked reading chapters and stuck with the book to the very end (I didn't cheat and read the end first) where I was rewarded with the literary fulfillment of a major personal erotic fantasy -- Myra had been Myron, a male.  The thought of being able to overcome my problem of being male and becoming a beautiful woman like Myra (who would tell you herself that she was beautiful) made a huge impact on me.

Some time later, a question popped into my little brain.  Who was the owner of these books and magazines?  The owner was obviously a relative, yet they had been hidden away in a manner where only the owner would have access to them.  This owner might have been like me, wishing they had been born a woman.  Years later, I also realized that this person might have been a bit more lewd, being what is often termed a "tranny chaser".  Whatever the reason for this relative owning this material, I would have liked to have talked with them about it.  There are studies that suggest transgenderism is an inherited phenomenon.  Learning of this person's motives and passions would have been a treasure trove of info.

Unfortunately, this person was probably raised like I was to be ashamed and be silent of any deviation from the "norm".  If there is nothing wrong or sinful about the deviation, why be ashamed and silent?  I can fully understand why people might think my actions are odd (they are sometimes odd to me also), but odd does not equal wrong or sinful, and I've learned being ashamed and silent (for no good reason) not only hurts myself, but others who feel the same.

Kelli

Keepin' It Girly

I've got lots of secret girly reminders surrounding me on a daily basis.  For example, heaven help me if a stranger picks up my cell phone.  I currently have this cute gif as the wallpaper reminding myself to stop and smell the coffee.  Doing so en femme is even nicer.

My computer at home is equipped with a couple of desktops.  One features girly and transgender themes, the other is boring guy colors and designs.  My favorite Ranma 1/2 gif of Ranma being doused with cold water would probably invoke too many questions when the parson comes for a visit.  However, Windows "dessert" color theme screams generic guy computer.

Mom always told me to make certain to wear clean underwear in case you are involved in a traffic accident.  I'm not certain which would raise more questions -- being in an accident while wearing 2 day old underwear, or wearing satin pink heart panties trimmed in lace.  Either way, I prefer the second.

Sometimes my girlish ways are discovered.  I once had to visit a doctor and absent mindedly shaved my legs the night before.  The problem was an ingrown toenail.  I realized what I had done when the doctor asked me to remove my shoe and sock.  He examined my foot, noticed the lack of hair, and raised my pant leg.  Do you shave your legs? he asked.  I tried to act as confident as possible.  Of course I do.  Is there anything wrong?  The doctor assured me nothing was wrong and wrote a prescription.  Thank heavens I didn't need an injection in the rear.  I probably would have passed out and the doctor would have used my cell phone to call a friend to come get me.  See gif above....

Still, in all the years I've been doing this, I have yet to really been called out.  Keep it girly, friends.  It's better than any alternative out there.

Kelli

Smart Women are Great

I've probably mentioned once or twice in this blog [tongue in cheek here] that I envy women, but I've been remiss in only discussing the physical aspects of my envy. When I see a woman, I often find myself admiring her hair, makeup, or figure, and find myself wishing I could copy that aspect of her being for myself. A full head of luxurious, cascading tresses sounds much more fun than my short male $15 haircut.

Truth be told, there are many inner qualities that I admire as well, and I was reminded of that by a news story I heard today. According to press reports, a survey of UK women found the majority would be willing to lower their IQ if it meant they could have larger breasts. That's a crying shame as I find intelligent women to be very attractive.

I immediately thought of some TG fiction I had read long ago where men were transformed into busty bimbos. Is this a fantasy some women also have? This seems like a strange desire that is shared by both a segment of the female population and a segment of the crossdressing population. Is there some sort of correlation between the two groups that has not yet been studied and documented? This inquiring mind wants to know.

Most of the women I have dated through the years have been of at least average intelligence if not smarter. If they were actually smarter than they seemed and played dumb around me, I was too dumb to notice it. I remember a girlfriend's roommate that I liked a lot. She was a pretty girl-next-door type from Chicago. We were just friends. One evening she brought over a date for us to meet. He was a good guy and we all got along well. A few minutes after their arrival, the roommate began saying some really strange things that had me wondering What in the world is she thinking? She's not using her common sense. In fact, the first couple of times she said these things I laughed, thinking she was pulling my leg. She then turned doe-eyed to her date and asked him why I was being so mean to her. After they left, my girlfriend explained that the roommate really liked the guy and was playing dumb to keep him. I was amazed that the guy never realized the truth.

I consider myself to be of average intelligence. Therefore, any woman who wants to be around me and is smarter than me (or is it myself) can only enhance my self worth.

A pretty woman may catch my attention, but a smart woman is going to hold my attention. Besides, grey matter is a lousy substance for breast augmentation. Silicon is much better.

Also, in case any genetic females are reading this, I am single and available. Anyone? Hello?

Kelli

A Slap of Reality

I willingly admit that there is a certain fantasy element to most cross dressing. If what I find on the internet passes as the norm for many cross dressers, then it is safe to assume that we all have an ideal vision of what a woman should look like and what we wish we could look like. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just the nature of our transgenderism.

I have a strong ideal of what I wish to look like. I'm constantly comparing women's hair, makeup, clothing, shoes, etc. to my list of what I like, what I could achieve, and what I can only dream about.

With my new year's diet and exercise program, I thought I was securely planted in reality. I was overweight by both my standards and the standards of the health care industry. I began loosing weight and could scientifically document my progress using a scale, tape measure, and the new belt I had to buy last week. However, this morning I got a bruising reality check.

I had time for a full hour of exercise this morning and began with great eagerness. I use some standard exercise videos found on YouTube. They all feature the aerobics/fitness instructor leading the exercises, surrounded by several women comprising various levels of physical fitness. As the exercises became easier (due to practice), I found myself paying more attention to the women in the background. The instructor is toned, fit, and looks great, but some of the women in the background had better curves. I found their workout clothes to be cute and found myself comparing hairstyles and physiques. After a few weeks, I found myself wishing I had a figure like the woman in the teal outfit on the right side of the screen, or had a pretty smile like the woman at the very back in the black and pink outfit. Eventually, I even found myself using these women as a goal, as in "that's what I want my body to look like".

This morning, I added something new to the routine. I've been concentrating very hard on doing the exercises in a correct manner. I bought a full mirror at the store and set it up next to my computer screen so I could see myself while exercising, and compare my moves to those of the instructor. Yuck!!! That slapped me back to reality faster than a wet towel in a locker room. I realized I'm light years away from looking like the cute gal in the teal outfit, and on a practical level, I will never look like her.

The good news is that my diet and exercise will help me loose weight and improve my health. I just need to remind myself of that more often. And every little pound and inch I loose will also help me achieve a more feminine look. I just have to keep my expectations grounded in reality and know I will never be hired to be a model for Victoria's Secret.

Kelli

Christianity and The Cure for Cross Dressing

I don't remember if I heard this from a college professor or my therapist many years ago, but the question was asked How do you know if you need psychological counseling? The answer is When something is causing you a problem (anxiety, fear, low self-esteem, etc.).

Cross dressing use to be a problem for me. One of the most important arguments (to me, anyway) for why you shouldn't dress as the opposite sex came from the Bible. Deuteronomy 22:5, as it is frequently quoted, seems to say cross dressing is very bad. After reading the entire Bible chapter and talking to some bonafide ministers (men of the cloth, as we use to say), I came to the conclusion that cross dressing is not a sin. One of the earliest entries I wrote on this blog contained this good news.

That led me to realize that cross dressing is not a problem for me, but it continues to be a problem for people around me. I'm not talking about fellow cross dressers. I'm talking about those who insist I am committing a great sin against God when I put on my prettiest dress. I'm talking about men who wouldn't be caught dead with a strand of pink thread in their clothing or women who may wear slacks, but they are in a "feminine cut".

That lead me to the next big revelation in my life -- I have to get all these people into therapy. All these folks have a completely illogical fear and hatred of my pink angora sweater. Those poor, poor folks going through life like this! I say this with all truthful sincerity, I have sympathy on them. Why? Because they are in the wrong, being in the wrong is the same as being in sin, and sin robs us of the joy and peace that Christ wants us to have in life.

Here's an example. Has this ever happened to you. You're watching television with family or friends. Everyone seems to be enjoying the program. Someone blurts out at one point Oh! That's old so and so! Wasn't he gay? What difference does it make to the show this person is on? The actor was not portraying a homosexual. Such a topic didn't even figure into the storyline. What difference does it make if the actor is gay or not. He or she is on the show, earning a paycheck and entertaining the audience. The conversation usually continues with the loudmouth saying something derogatory and claiming to never watch the actor. There's nothing wrong in enjoying a television show, but letting illogical fear and hatred ruin that enjoyment does seem wrong.

It would be impossible to get all these people into a therapist office, and I don't know of many therapists that make house calls. That leaves little ol' me as the one with the greatest chance of having a positive influence on these folks. I do a lot of studying and praying on this matter, and try to always be careful. In all situations I try to be an "upright" person, as the Good Book might say. For those who only know me as a guy, I do my best to not give anyone an excuse to call me a lying scumbag who likes to get drunk and would stab his own mother in the back as quickly as he would stab his worst enemy. For those who know me as Kelli, I hope they have a positive impression about me (not a slut).

While doing my best to be pleasant and good company, it gives me a chance to talk about anything and everything with a Christian perspective. How do I feel about the environment? I think I have a Christian perspective on that. How will the Red Wings do this season? There is a Christian way to respond to that question. Hey, you're a Christian... what do you think about cross dressing? I think I've already said what my answer would be.

A famous minister once commented that many an average Christian, being a good example to others, has led more souls to the Lord than many an average minister in the pulpit. It all starts by changing hearts and minds one person at a time.

Oh... almost forgot. About the title of this post. Christianity in and of itself is not necessarily a cure for cross dressing. Christianity is the cure for sin, a cure we all need.

Kelli

Time Warp Update

This science fiction stuff is becoming a reality all too fast! Recently I blogged about my desire to do some time travel. Here's a bonafide article (yes, I know it's from FOX News) about invisibility, changing the speed of light, and bending time as done recently in a scientific laboratory. I've now decided that the race is on between science perfecting DNA changes that can make me 100% female and science perfecting time travel so I can try my hand at poodle skirts and penny loafers.

Wait a minute... what if we combined time travel and cross dressing?

Kelli

Let's Do The Time Warp Again!

If there's one thing more futile than being a guy who wished he looked like his idea of the ideal woman, it might be the pursuance of time travel. Theoretically it seems possible, and it has been the basis of quite a few good sci-fi pictures, but apart from top secret hush-hush government labs, time travel will probably remain an unattainable possibility for the general public during my lifetime.

That's a crying shame as I don't consider my choice for a time travel trip to be that difficult. Oh sure, I might be interested in traveling back to ancient Egypt to get Cleopatra's beauty secrets, but my interests lay closer to home. I'd actually like to travel back to the first half of the 20th century right here in the good old U.S. of A. I find the years 1900 to 1960 fascinating -- the people, the lifestyles, the customs of the day, etc. There are many aspects of those years that I miss in this present day and age.

I'm not much of a nightclub kind of gal [stay with me, this is not a change of topic]. It's just not my thing, like the way some folks just don't like broccoli. Over the years, while visiting some major cities, I've gone to drag shows at various venues. Drag is not really my thing either, but I've seen some outstanding female impersonations that blew my mind. The drag queens and female impersonators often dress up like famous female celebrities and lip-synch to pre-recorded music. The dancing and artistry requires true talent. I personally don't find lip-synching to be a bonafide talent, but that's just my humble opinion. Maybe that's why I have been indifferent to such shows.

While surfing the web this afternoon, I came across several videos recorded at Finnochio's nightclub in San Francisco back in 1980. I had heard of Finnochio's and seen still photos of the performers, but had never seen any of them in action. Finnochio's featured a female impersonator revue, and the show really blew my mind. The "gals" looked glamorous, there was an interesting variety of acts, and the whole show was performed live -- the impersonators did their own singing with a live band accompanying them. Now that took a whale of a lot of talent!

Unfortunately, the Finnochio's era was slightly before my time. I believe the place closed in 1993, but I was no where near San Francisco back then, and the only information I had was from a few magazines that the general public didn't read. The internet that we know and love today didn't exist back then.

Go to the YouTube web page and search for "Finnochios". The videos I am referencing are from 1980 and there are 8 or 9 parts, each 10 to 15 minutes in length. I found them very entertaining with a style of glamour that is not available here in 2012. The comments from some of the performers are priceless.

After building that time machine I'll need to buy a fancy dress from Hudson's Department Store, meet my friends for dinner, then pile into my little Nash-Rambler and head for Finnochio's. Sounds like a fun evening.

Kelli

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!

Pardon my exuberance, but I love Thanksgiving.  It has always been one of my favorite holidays, probably because it centers on love, family, and God.  I find it interesting that it is a federal holiday, established by proclamation of President Abraham Lincoln in 1863.  Today's federal government goes out of its way to portray itself as non-religious and totally secular, even to the embracing of the religion of humanism.  President Lincoln's attitude was that even in this dark time of a great civil war, we have much to be thankful for to God Almighty.


I have much to be thankful for -- health, family, place to live, etc.


I have to admit that I am not always thankful for being transgendered.  I mean, come on now, there have been times, especially in the past, that I have wished that part of my life miraculously dissappeared into thin air.  I see lots of insanity happening in this scenario.  I'm biologically a guy who likes to dress like a woman and mentally picture myself as a complete woman.  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know!  Further, many people are offended at seeing a man dressed as a woman.  Why should they care what I am wearing?  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know!  They see an actual woman wearing a pretty blouse and slacks and think nothing of it.  I wear the same pretty blouse and slacks and they say "You pervert!"  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know!  I'm not wearing anything obscene or immoral, yet I am overly, downright paranoid concerned about my clothes and overly value the false judgement of people I don't even know.  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know.


One item that has helped me in my personal life, especially these past few years, is trying to follow St. Paul's instructions when he wrote to give thanks in everything (I Thess. 5:18, i think).  When you read the book of Acts, you read that Paul experienced a lot of hardships in his life, like getting thrown into prison, being shipwrecked, being stoned, etc.  Yet it never slowed him down in his work for God, and you never see him having a pitty party, table for one.  Whatever happened to him, he felt it happened for a reason, and he ascertained that reason and continued on from there.


I've asked myself recently what it must be like as a "normal" guy to see a pretty gal.  I can't for the life of me really guess what he must be thinking, because no matter how strongly I may be attracted to her, I still have those other thoughts about how I wish I was as pretty, or if those shoes come in my size.  Well, praise the Lord, at least I live in a country where I can do that without fear of the police arresting me and taking me away for re-education or worse.  Thank the Lord I am free to assemble and converse with fellow transgendered people.  And I praise the Lord for the women He has brought into my life because I think my transgenderism gave me an insight and appreciation of these beautiful beings that no "normal" man could ever have or enjoy.


St. Paul said in all things give thanks.  Give it a try.  I can vouch that it helps.


Kelli

PURGING

Today I took a short-cut working on my femme wardrobe and purged everything.

Now before anyone says What?! I can't believe you would do something like that! Don't you know purging never solves anything??? Let me explain.

There was a time in the not too distant past where I would have advised anyone to not purge their closet of their feminine finery. I had purged my closet of Kelli's clothes a couple of times in the past and had deeply regretted doing that. I have not done a complete purge in twenty years!

Since my last purge, I've learned about autogynephilia. I've learned that this term applies directly to me and have since learned a few things about myself that I didn't know 20 years ago. For example, I have never had the same strong desire to dress as a woman as have my crossdressing friends. I've enjoyed dressing as Kelli over the years, but if I did that once a month, I was happy. My friends would prefer to dress every week if not every day. I found this confusing as I thought we all had the same outlook and reasons for crossdressing. I began to think that even among crossdressers there was something odd about me (and there probably is, but that is a different story).

After studying various theories about autogynephilia, I felt these differences between myself and other crossdressers was okay because we actually were dressing for different reasons. The way I see it, crossdressers dress to externalize their feelings of femininity. My feelings of femininity are almost all internal, and those feelings don't change much whether I am wearing pants or skirts. I can't really call what I am about to say a fantasy as it happens every day in real life, but I often see myself as a woman trying to pass as a man. The average person sees a guy when they look at me, and I know that beneath the shirt and pants, the Hanes His Way underwear, and the sport talc deodorant, and despite what the biology textbooks say, I am 100% woman!

Another reason I purged is because my wardrobe was starting to look very out of date. Much of what I had was donated from a former girlfriend, and that too was many years ago. She had wonderful taste in clothes, but I decided it was time to start purchasing new items. I haven't seen anyone wear stirrup pants in quite awhile.

Still, while going through all the hangers, it was like a trip down memory lane. I came across a sweaterdress that I really liked that brought back quite a few memories. The first memory was that there was a time in the past when I was small and thin enough to actually wear a sweater dress. Second was the memory of that dress being the first dress my ex-girlfriend saw me wearing. I had a very small wardrobe back then and I had just told her about Kelli. She surprised me the next day by asking to see Kelli. I hadn't expected her to bring it up that soon, but ducked into the bathroom and tried to use all the tricks to look my best. I cinched my waist. I padded my hips, I double-checked my makeup. I made certain my boobs were straight. At last I tottered out in my 2.5 inch heels and my girlfriend seemed to be genuinely surprised. She told me that at first glance she thought I passed and had "one hell of a figure". It was on closer inspection that she soon saw I was male. Coming from her, I took all that as a great compliment.

All the blouses, skirts, slacks, jackets, and cute PJs are boxed and ready to be delivered to a local thrift store. For this purge, I am actually very happy and looking forward to building my new wardrobe. I hope the recipients are as happy with this wardrobe as I have been.

Kelli

"Are You Gay?"

When I came out to my last girlfriend, that was one of (if not the) first questions she asked me: "Are you gay?" I assured her I was not gay, but at the time, I needed reassuring myself. The time was the early 1990s, and although I had studied and read up on terms like crossdressing, transvestism, and transsexualism, it would be several more years before I heard the term "autogynephilia".

Fortunately, I told her the truth, even though I was not certain at the time. I had gone through several bad relationships, and one day put 2 and 2 together and figured there was the possibility that I was gay. Let's look at the facts. Fact one -- I enjoyed dressing in women's clothes. Fact two -- I had always dated women and never even considered anything romantic with another man. Fact three -- in many of my fantasies and daydreams, I was often a woman with another woman. Fact four -- in many of my fantasies and daydreams, I was often a woman with a man. Three out of four of those facts screamed "Gay!" at me.

I figured I should consider the possibility that I was gay. After a few talks with some gay friends and a quick perusal of some gay "romance novels", I was quickly convinced that as a man, I did not want, did not desire, did not have the slightest inclination to be romantic with another man. However, I was still confused. Here is what I now knew: in reality, I like women; in fantasy, I liked both.

I knew that in my fantasies I wanted to be a woman. That along with my general feelings on crossdressing led me to believe I might be transsexual. Much literature on the subject written back then suggested that many transsexuals had experienced shifts in their sexual preferences, and I figured that in a worse case scenario, I would be bi-sexual, and hoped that correcting all the "plumbing" would make me a straight woman in search of a good man.

After dating my girlfriend for awhile, I began counselling on my transgenderism. My doctor was very practical in his outlook and very helpful. I asked him one day if he thought I was gay. He asked if I dated men or women, and I replied women. He told me I was straight. I then brought up the subject of my fantasy in which I was a woman with a man. He told me I was straight. I asked how he could be so sure. He replied that I was fantasizing about a man and a woman having sex -- what was gay about that? I answered that it was gay because I was the woman in the fantasy. I then started to see what he was getting at, and realized I still had a lot more work to do in figuring out my fantasies. Even if I did work at deciphering my fantasies, they were still just fantasies. In real life I was physically male and enjoyed dating women. Fantasies would never change that.

Fantasies are not real. Fantasies are not factual. If one of your fantasies were to come true, there is no guarantee that you would like that fantasy as a reality. Fantasies are just a variation on the classic daydream. Ever have a daydream about going skinny-dipping in a mountain spring on a hot day? My real experiences with mountain springs tells me they are usually a bit cold for skinny-dipping.

I'm confident in my sexuality these days, even if the trip to that destination was a bit convoluted.

Kelli