The story of Marsha

[MarshaInez]

As I have been reading the stories of the many sisters, I have been drawn to take some time and consider mine, which is not something I have approached in the past.

Marsha was brought into existence on 18 June 1968. Not from any epiphany that I had, but from a name that my father called me when he felt I was acting like a sissy. I remember the day, because they were leaving for Palm Springs, and my sister had slammed a chair into my knee (To this day I swear on purpose) as you could probably imagine it hurt, and being a youngster, I cried. Dad loped me upside the head, and started calling me Marsha ( A dirivitive of my birth name. Some years later, I discovered that Marsha means “of Mars” the God of War, a fitting name for a Sissy).

Dad was a military man, and we moved to Europe shortly after their trip, and that is when I start having memories of a desire to dress in clothes not normally associated with male attire. Dad, being military, was deployed quite often for extended periods of time, anywhere from 4 to 9 mos or longer, at which time, it was my mother, sister and myself at home. When Dad would come home, he took the assumed male position (remember this was the late 60’s and early 70’s) as leader of the house. So after mos of being raised by my mother, (much more lenient than Dad) we had Atilla the Hun come home. All I saw my father as was a mean guy ( glad to say things have changed over the years, and I am very close to my father. No matter what anyone says about raising children, there are no experts, you do the best you can, and hope the breaks go their way) enough of that.

I started about the age of 7 or 8 putting on my mothers slips (I liked the half ones, the rubbed up against more of the legs). I was aware thing weren’t exactly run of the mill with me, when we used to look at the Sears and Roebuck catalog (old internet for you youngsters) all my friends were looking just at the boobs ( sorry if this is not exceptable) I was wondering what the bra would feel like to wear. (obviously eventually I found out).

As there was nothing eventful until I was 13, I will start there. By then we were back in the states, I stayed with my grandfather and grandmother quite a bit then, as I previously mentioned Dad didn’t seem to be too fond of me, and I wasn’t really fond of him. During one of those stays with my g’parents, a family member left he bikini drying outside my bedroom door. I don’t know why, but I had to try it on, and when I did, a calmness and comfort settled on me. ( I imagine that sounds strange, but I really don’t know how to describe how I felt). During the next few years I started my 1st collection of my sister and moms bra and undies, and started to experience guilt. (Christian upbringing) Several times I purged swearing to never do it again, only to find myself, when I needed Marsha, letting her come to the surface.

It was about this time, that I felt I needed to find answers, and at that time, there was no counseling, so I had to find an answer that works, but maintains my Christian foundation. I took several years, calling on Marsha when I needed her ( or at least that is what I thought I was doing). During this time I got married, had 3 children (whom I adore) 1 boy and 2 girls. My youngest is 5 yrs younger than the older 2, and when she was in 8th, my wife took off to be young again, leaving me with an 8th grade daughter. Sorry girls, raising a daughter through high school is better left to the GG’s, although I am happy to say she is in college, and realitively normal.
While it was her and myself living her, I found Marsha, not being looked for, but offering advice in my head ( no not crazy stuff) just things that would help a grieving little girl with heart break, that a Dad wouldn’t really know what to say.

So my conclusion is that in my, there is a cross, and an arrow, and the circle is the soul. There is neither without the soul. 80% of the time, I walk down the road, I am walking as both. (those who see me, won’t remember who or what walked by in 5 minutes) 20 % of the time, Marsha or the Arrow (my given name) take the lead.

I thought when I discovered this truth, I would win the internal war, but I discovered I only found out where the battlefield is. I have so much to learn to support my theories (please understand, these are theories on myself, not any others) and allow my life to be fuller with Marsha and the arrow work together.

I look at myself sexually as male, because I have never met a man, that I would want to pursue an intimate relationship, not that there is not one out there.

I hope you do not mind my ramblings, and if I repeated myself, Sorry watching Camelot with Richard Harris while typing.

May all your lives be blessed and your tears only those of happiness

With an open heart

Marsha

[Anita]

l liked reading your story, Marsha. Tough raising that daughter alone, but you and she both came through it. I am glad to hear that you and your dad have a good relationship now--that was heartening.

[DonnaT]

I don’t know why, but I had to try it on, and when I did, a calmness and comfort settled on me.

Yeah, some of us say it just felt right.

[Anthony Simon]

Hi Marsha, I think the key thing you say is:

During one of those stays with my g’parents, a family member left he bikini drying outside my bedroom door. I don’t know why, but I had to try it on, and when I did, a calmness and comfort settled on me. ( I imagine that sounds strange, but I really don’t know how to describe how I felt).

I think quite a lot of us (including me) have comparable feelings about getting dressed up - though they can be mixed up with other stuff too.

Marsha was brought into existence on 18 June 1968. Not from any epiphany that I had, but from a name that my father called me when he felt I was acting like a sissy. I remember the day, because they were leaving for Palm Springs, and my sister had slammed a chair into my knee (To this day I swear on purpose) as you could probably imagine it hurt, and being a youngster, I cried. Dad loped me upside the head, and started calling me Marsha ( A dirivitive of my birth name.)

The odd thing about this is that, in a way, you could have done with someone calming and offering you comfort on that day, rather than clouting you.

Sorry girls, raising a daughter through high school is better left to the GG’s, although I am happy to say she is in college, and realitively normal.
While it was her and myself living her, I found Marsha, not being looked for, but offering advice in my head ( no not crazy stuff) just things that would help a grieving little girl with heart break, that a Dad wouldn’t really know what to say.

So I guess you could say that Marsha allowed you to calm and comfort your daughter in a way a man wouldn't know how to do.

[Ginny Jones]

Marsha - I really liked your post! I particularly liked the signing off with an open heart - that really came across in your writing! We're all running theories on why we are this way! With me it was the aliens in the night! (joking!) - but I think that the direction of travel is acceptance. When you accept yourself everything just makes sense! Ok so it's a work in progress for most of us ... but hey! A girls gotta dream!

I hope you make some good friends here!

With hugs and an open heart

Ginny xxx

[Wendae]

As a military brat I can relate. My father an I did not get along. I'm sure my children viewed me as Atilla the Hun as well. I'm a retired Marine and was overseas every two years. I guess my kids don't have my problems but how many of us told our parents or got caught. I didn't.

[MarshaInez]

Hi,

Thank you so much, for the insightful and encouraging responses.

Anthony Simon- I never thought of the beginning that way, maybe Marsha was an awakening, not a happening!

Ginny, I do always sign off with an open heart. We might think with our brain, but our heart is the organ we feel with. As I am sure with all, mine has been elated, overjoyed, nervous, broken, stabbed, etc…. but continues to beat and love. If I have a part of me so strong to take all of that, I am willing to lead with it, and share the love it gives. When my time comes, if one person can stand and say I treated all as I would want to be treated, then my time was worth something.

Wendae- I hope things eventually worked out with your father. I owe so much of who I am to mine(not just Marsha). He was a Naval Officer and taught me honesty (some things I hide, like Marsha) integrity hard work, and above all compassion. Earlier, I stated my belief that as parents, we do the best we can. I think his reaction because he was trying to prepare children for a world that had gone mad in his eyes. Remember he was a military man, 1968 the TET offensive in Vietnam, we were living in Oakland (can anyone say Haight Ashbury) and preparing to move to Europe. I think it is amazing he didn’t turn to crossdressing for escape

As Always, thanks for tolerating my rants,

With an open heart

Marsha

[Wendae]

Marsha dear, my dad was a Navy Corpsman in WWII and a Pearl Harbor Survivor. Old Navy and Germanic mentality. I could do nothing right in his eyes. He's long gone and I finialy started to understand him prior to his passing away.
I understand your Dad as I did 2 tours in Vietnam and was a senior SNCO. My panty fetish turned into the need to dress after my first tour. This has become part of me and I look forward to every moment I can be Wendae. Unfortunately I can't do that 24/7 like some of my sisters.

[ArleneMcCarthy]

Marsha,
Thank you for sharing your story. HUGZ !