After I'm gone...
Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 1:22 am
Hi All--
Crossdressing was something I did as a teen, and then I did not do it again for 30-some years. Occasional fantasies, but no clothes, no makeup, nothing like that.
What I’m going to talk about here is one of the biggest reasons I came out to my family.
When my inner girl begin to come out, she wanted it all—clothing, wigs, shoes, and definitely makeup. I also saw that unlike my teen years, I felt a need to go out in public as a woman. This was before my Internet days, and I had no idea that anyone did that. I was very vague about this whole subject. For all I knew, I'd be the only one out there!
I had not repressed my femme self, but I certainly had ignored her. I thought she’d be content with the few “bones” that I threw her—like a green silk woman’s jacket that I had bought for stage performances, and seldom wore. Somehow, androgynous stage clothing did not work for me, even though I thought that it might “take the edge off” of the turmoil that I was beginning to feel about all of this.
The worst part of all of this sudden change was thinking about how it was all going to play out with family and friends. What was I going to do? Tell no one? Tell some close friends, but no one else? Most of my family live nowhere near me—so I didn’t have to tell them, did I? I had some months to think about all this, while the storm inside me continued to grow. I still had not bought the clothes; I kept putting it off.
I might have been tempted to just tell close friends and let it go at that. The family would never see me out and about, and that would be that. But as the weeks went on, it became clear that it didn’t matter so much about who did or didn’t see me. I begin to think about the scenario that I was going to leave behind. Wigs, women’s clothes, shoes, and makeup—all of these things in my closets and my bathroom. I get into a fatal accident out on I-80, and here comes the family to sort things out. Oh, what’s this…?
It was the thought of two of my nephews who really helped me make the final decision. They had idolized me when they were boys, since they were 10 and 12 years younger than I was. I found it hard to let them know about this new life I was heading into, because I had no idea how they would take it.
But the idea of them finding out after my death was much worse, to me. However badly they took the knowledge, no matter how angry or upset they got, I would still be here to talk to them if I told them now. If I were gone, there would be no one to tell them what had happened, or why.
Everyone has to make their own peace with this one; I don't intend any judgments about how someone is supposed to feel about this. Some of us may feel that it is part of our private lives, and we do have a right to them. I certainly felt that way as a teen; my CDing was private, and I saw no reason to ever tell anyone.
At 49, it became clear that it was no longer a private issue for me. I certainly wanted to think that it could be, or that it should be, but there was something different about it 30 years later.
It had stopped being private, and was now going to be secret, if I chose to keep it quiet. And I saw that secrets take energy to keep, and a middle-aged man like myself no longer had the surplus energy to do that. Even in the months before I told other people, I could sense how much repression it took to hold it all inside of me.
But it mostly came back to that image of my relatives going through my belongings after I was gone. I do not feel shame about what I do by going out in the world as a woman, as long as I am clear about it with everyone I know. But I would feel shame if I thought that I was leaving this discovery to people who are already grieving. This points out that I still have to deal with some conflicting feelings about what I do.
This is an upsetting topic; I remember it from some years back, on the other forum. Yet it needs to be thought about. For those of you who choose not to tell partners and family—how do you deal with the idea that the revelation will probably come to them after you're no longer there to help them deal with it? I don't say this to point a finger at anyone; but I am curious as to how each of you have made your peace with this, or if you have.
Crossdressing was something I did as a teen, and then I did not do it again for 30-some years. Occasional fantasies, but no clothes, no makeup, nothing like that.
What I’m going to talk about here is one of the biggest reasons I came out to my family.
When my inner girl begin to come out, she wanted it all—clothing, wigs, shoes, and definitely makeup. I also saw that unlike my teen years, I felt a need to go out in public as a woman. This was before my Internet days, and I had no idea that anyone did that. I was very vague about this whole subject. For all I knew, I'd be the only one out there!
I had not repressed my femme self, but I certainly had ignored her. I thought she’d be content with the few “bones” that I threw her—like a green silk woman’s jacket that I had bought for stage performances, and seldom wore. Somehow, androgynous stage clothing did not work for me, even though I thought that it might “take the edge off” of the turmoil that I was beginning to feel about all of this.
The worst part of all of this sudden change was thinking about how it was all going to play out with family and friends. What was I going to do? Tell no one? Tell some close friends, but no one else? Most of my family live nowhere near me—so I didn’t have to tell them, did I? I had some months to think about all this, while the storm inside me continued to grow. I still had not bought the clothes; I kept putting it off.
I might have been tempted to just tell close friends and let it go at that. The family would never see me out and about, and that would be that. But as the weeks went on, it became clear that it didn’t matter so much about who did or didn’t see me. I begin to think about the scenario that I was going to leave behind. Wigs, women’s clothes, shoes, and makeup—all of these things in my closets and my bathroom. I get into a fatal accident out on I-80, and here comes the family to sort things out. Oh, what’s this…?
It was the thought of two of my nephews who really helped me make the final decision. They had idolized me when they were boys, since they were 10 and 12 years younger than I was. I found it hard to let them know about this new life I was heading into, because I had no idea how they would take it.
But the idea of them finding out after my death was much worse, to me. However badly they took the knowledge, no matter how angry or upset they got, I would still be here to talk to them if I told them now. If I were gone, there would be no one to tell them what had happened, or why.
Everyone has to make their own peace with this one; I don't intend any judgments about how someone is supposed to feel about this. Some of us may feel that it is part of our private lives, and we do have a right to them. I certainly felt that way as a teen; my CDing was private, and I saw no reason to ever tell anyone.
At 49, it became clear that it was no longer a private issue for me. I certainly wanted to think that it could be, or that it should be, but there was something different about it 30 years later.
It had stopped being private, and was now going to be secret, if I chose to keep it quiet. And I saw that secrets take energy to keep, and a middle-aged man like myself no longer had the surplus energy to do that. Even in the months before I told other people, I could sense how much repression it took to hold it all inside of me.
But it mostly came back to that image of my relatives going through my belongings after I was gone. I do not feel shame about what I do by going out in the world as a woman, as long as I am clear about it with everyone I know. But I would feel shame if I thought that I was leaving this discovery to people who are already grieving. This points out that I still have to deal with some conflicting feelings about what I do.
This is an upsetting topic; I remember it from some years back, on the other forum. Yet it needs to be thought about. For those of you who choose not to tell partners and family—how do you deal with the idea that the revelation will probably come to them after you're no longer there to help them deal with it? I don't say this to point a finger at anyone; but I am curious as to how each of you have made your peace with this, or if you have.
Though this is no longer a problem for me, in years past I went for the posthumus letter explanation. I had to rewrite it several times to not leave some bitter diatribe born of my frustration with life, but I did, I think succeed. I filed it with papers in a Things You Should Know file at home, and made sure family members were aware to look in there first immediately after my death so they could find my "final wishes". I hoped that would eliminate the scenario of finding the things, then the letter. At least there would be some forwarning.
