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Chelle: The Lady in waiting
The first experience I remember being in touch with my feminine self
was at the innocent age of 6 or 7; it is hard to remember exactly, it
was so long ago. I was at the Smith farm, my maternal grandparents
home. One summer day and I was playing make believe by myself as kids
often do. Being curious I tried on a frilly white dress in a closet in
Maxine’s old room, I hated to sleep in this room. My Aunt Maxine died
in this room in 1958, in the bed I slept in, it really freaked me out.
The clothes felt really different, as boys aren’t encouraged to wear
clothes like these. I felt an immediate rush of euphoria come over me,
even at that young age I knew I was hooked. I felt like I had this
feeling before, but not as Michael, as someone else, another life
perhaps. Who knows? I didn’t want to take the dress off. Grandma called
up the stairs. I had to change quickly and get downstairs. My Mom
recently told me she saw me at the age of 5 in a dress while playing
make believe with my cousins. (1968) I do not remember this. When she
told me it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. How was all
this so hidden? What society told me about who I was depressed me and I
attempted suicide twice at the Smith farm, once with a razor blade
(1974) and once with pills (1973?). Grandma walked in on me both times.
I still have a scar on my left wrist to remind me of how precious life
is and how it could have all turned out quite differently. I was
screaming for help. I didn’t like myself very much.
As I matured into a teenager (1976), the dressing took on a more
fetishistic/sexual mode, as my hormones were on full blast. I kept my
dressing very much closeted and enjoyed Mom’s selection of fine
washables. She had really nice clothes. She was a model in the 70’s. I
found myself attracted to Women; so much so, I didn’t like hanging out
with the guys as much, and consequently, had more girl friends than guy
friends. I felt envious of Women and girls, that they could wear such
nice clothing and did not have to do the things expected of young men.
I felt guilty and alone. I was called names at school, because I didn’t
have a steady girlfriend, and I felt as though I didn’t fit in. I’ve
always felt this way. I still do sometimes. I started to bury my
feelings and attempted to be what I considered to be masculine.
I tried sex with another boy at 15 (1978) in an attempt to discover my
sexuality. I didn’t like it much. It’s hard to be gay when you don’t
like guys. This confused me, guys who wore dresses were considered gay,
right? This caused a lot of inner conflict. I was hospitalized for
depression the first time at 14, for several months. The doctors tested
me for all kinds of things. Neither they nor I knew that I was
transgendered. I didn’t even know what that was. Apparently, neither
did they. The condition went untreated. I returned to the hospital at
the age of 17. I was in in-patient treatment for six months. I tried to
become more hopeful of my life and tried to like myself. I put on a
good enough act that I was permitted to leave the hospital and move in
with Dad (1980). The pain was still there. I drank, used drugs, and
tried to be more masculine, or what I thought was masculine. I joined
the Air Force (1982 honorable discharge after 12 weeks), got in drunken
fights, tried to act tough. None of this seemed to help. After three
years of learning things the hard way, living on the street, and
failing at everything I tried. I was ready to improve my life. I was
trying to get myself into technical college. I was getting things
together in my life.
I met Connie (CJ) in 1984.
Connie and I hit it off well. We seemed made for each other. I still
feel this way. I became happier with life, more than I’d ever been.
Still, my drinking at this point became the central focus of my life. I
used it to be masculine and to alleviate the pain of my second self. I
had buried it so far inside me, that I wasn’t even aware of its
presence. Being wasted all the time didn’t help this. I graduated
college (1988) with an electronics degree. I felt good about this. It
served as a temporary distraction to me. I felt like I had finished
something I had started. I felt like a valuable person because I now
had a piece of paper that said I had a skill. I could make some money
now. CJ got me a job working with her at a software company. She was my
boss for a time. We worked well together.
I resumed dressing in a fetishistic manner on rare occasions. The job
was becoming stressful. The dressing became more frequent and I started
to raid CJ’s closet after we moved in together (1988). CJ’s mom died
from cancer (1989) and I was distracted from my transgenderism. My wife
really needed me to lean on and I could only watch her despair and feel
helpless. After several years, I finally came clean to her about my
fetishistic behavior. (1990) We incorporated this into our sexual
relations. It was fun for a while. I was still unhappy inside. I was
unsure about what it was. I was still drinking an awful lot.
I started working for myself after we had both lost our jobs
(1995) and we decided to quit Amway (1996). I had a rough time with the
whole Amway thing. I felt like I was wearing the wrong clothes to the
meetings. I hated suits and ties. Still do. Their ideas about gender
really upset me. This caused more inner conflict. I hated myself. I
didn’t want to live like this, but having previously tried suicide on
two previous occasions and feeling like I screwed that up too, I
decided to embrace life and try, again, to find out the source of my
unhappiness. Finally, the drinking became too much for CJ to bear. We
had it out. I was threatened with the dissolution of our relationship
if I didn’t do something about it. We had our blow up, things had to
change. I decided to come out to her. CJ and I then had the discussion
that would change our lives. I told her I was a cross dresser (Feb
2001). She didn’t quite know what to make of it at first. She said she
accepted this, but she felt betrayed I would hide this from her. I felt
guilty and even more alone. Would she leave me? Was I gay? Was I a
Transsexual? I had to find the answers. CJ and I had many conversations
about this and she grew weary of talking about this. I felt like I had
been given a bad hand. I was angry with God for doing this to me. I
finally decided after finding some safe Internet chat rooms, free from
porn and stalkers, that I was not a bad or sick person. I was not
alone. I went to my first support group meeting (Madison Transgender
Group, July 2001). I went outside of four walls for the first time. I
was filled with joy!! I knew what I was, and happy with it for the
first time in over 30 years.
CJ and I have learned a lot, cried a lot, and learned to understand and
appreciate my unique personality. We will have to deal with the issues
associated with my hiding for some time. I have caused a lot of hurt to
those around me from running away from myself. The day I turned the
corner, and started to truly like myself was when I took the clothes
out of her closet and put them in mine, and then, at that moment, I was
truly accepting with who I am.
Currently, CJ and I are doing well and she accepts me for all that I
am. We have recently gone out together for the first time with me en
femme. Check out Club 5 in Madison, WI. It was fun, she said it was
pretty kewl. CJ has said on numerous occasions “I don’t see another
person. I just see you. I just see you, Gonz.” At first this bothered
me, then I realized she is still in love with me and she will always
see just me. I guess she always has. It’s too bad it’s taken so long
for me to catch up.
I refer to my second self as Chelle. This name was chosen to identify
myself among all the other “girls” I relate to. I have two families
now, the one I was born with and the one I was accepted into as a
sister, another Transgendered soul who is on her way to finding her
place in the world.
If you would like to contact Chelle, you can do so by sending her an EMAIL.
