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All settled in

17546944_1910670259168352_3966816510689741483_oIt’s been two weeks since I’ve moved in. I finally got a couch and loveseat, from Furniture Row’s SofaMart. It wasn’t what I originally wanted, and it was out of the price range I had wanted to pay, but I knew I had to have it the moment I saw it. Uncharacteristically, I chose to go with waht I wanted versus what I thought I could afford. I don’t regret the decision one bit. It’s beautiful and comfortable.

I still don’t have my bed. The plan is for a friend to take me to Dallas, where my bed is in storage, to go pick it up. I’ll get with my friend to make sure that’s still happening, or else I’ll have to make plans for someone else to help me get it. It’s a nice bed, a queen-size, with an oak headboard. I don’t have a dresser or a chest of drawers, but that’ll come soon enough, once I pay off the sofa!

For the rest, I’m slowly moving my things in. All my make up is there, as are my shoes. I have a few more things at my friends house, mostly my blouses, but I’ll get them there soon enough. My only problem is storage. I ended up having to buy a couple of plastic drawers for the time being, I’ll work for now. I’m not too fussed about it. I have so much more pressing things that I need to buy.

So, like I said, it’s been two weeks since I’ve moved in. Two weeks of being on my own. At first it was a bit of a shock, not having a place completely to myself since 2005, the year me and my ex-wife moved in together. It gets lonely at times, but the commute to and from work is a lot shorter. Instead of driving two hours a day, to and from work, it’s more like twenty minutes at most.

What I enjoy most is the freedom to dress up when I want to, and not to have to worry that I have to go home. When I get off work, I can go, change, and relax, drink a bit of wine, have a beer, read or write. I can cook what I like. I can come and go at my leisure without having to tell anyone. It’s fantastic!

The best part is that I can start adding to my wardrobe without taking up anyone else’s space. I need more shoes, more makeup, a lot more jewelry. I know I should have done so ages ago, but change is hard for me. I’m the kind that settles for the status quo until it becomes such a burden that I almost have no choice but to change. Kind of sums up why I stayed married as long as I did.

I know there are other changes in store for me, but this one was a big start. I hope to be able to have internet access soon, but I’ll have to wait to see how my bills line up, and if I’ll be able to afford it. Internet in Amarillo is ridiculously expensive!

I’ll keep you updated if anything crazy happens, but for now, I think this will be the last post about the move. I think I’m eager to get started with this new chapter of my life, and see what adventures are now in store for me.

Lots of love

Stef

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Almost nightmare

20160918_1610191I accidentally sent all my pictures to everyone in my contact list. I was a virus I downloaded, I suppose, something that outed me to everyone I knew. It was a horrifying moment in my life, which thankfully, was nothing more than a bad dream. I very, very bad dream. Can you imagine? All my secrets, out for the world to see? Well, I suppose they are out here on this blog, and on my Flickr, Twitter, and Facebook, but who’s watching, right?

A lot of people, apparently, not that I’m all too concerned with it. I’m moving slowly towards full disclosure, but not quite yet. I’m not ready to let those I care about know about it, and while I care about most of my coworkers, ultimately they aren’t who I’m worried about, at least as far as Stefani is concerned. It’s my family whom I’m referring about.

I told my HR director about the dream, and she said it was probably telling me that it was time to tell my family. I looked at her, and with all due respect, I said, “Uh, no!” Very profound of me, I know, but really? My family?

I know, however, that she’s right. Don’t tell her I said that. It’s been growing on my mind lately, that soon I’ll have to fess up, tell them about Stefani. I may not introduce them to her for some time, if ever, but with the secret out, maybe I can find a little more peace in my soul. The duality of my existence is sometimes too much to bear.

 

Strides

20160612_213735This duality in my life is really exhausting. Like flat out, I’m weary to the very core of my being. My friend V says I should just come out. It’s easy for her to say, being openly bisexual, not that coming out would have been easy for her. I’m still stuck on self-preservation mode, though I’ve found myself setting up to be outed at any time.

The issue I have is that it’s not easy having the conversation with people. How do you do it? I don’t know how, and I’ve had that conversation a few times now. I’ve told several friends about my identity, that I’m not in fact the man they see, but a woman who struggles with the image she sees in front of her.

So my life is one of contrast and duality of spirit and body. As such, I feel that not entirely one or the other. On the contrary, I’ve felt that I’m neither, some oddity, a mistake made by a Creator who wasn’t paying attention when I was made. If God makes no mistakes, then he purposely made me like this, else there is no God. So which is it?

It’s difficult to exist in such a manner. People see me as a man for that’s the way I’ve chosen to present myself, accepting the role society place on me on the basis of my apparent sex and gender. Who I am is not what can be seen by the naked eye. It’s invisible, a matter of spirit rather than physical.

Even on those divine moments when I have a chance to dress as Stefani, what I see is in discord to what I feel. I see too much of the male peaking through the carefully made-up face I put on. I only feel somewhat feminine the moment I put on my wig. Until then, I’m just a weirdo wearing makeup and women’s clothes. If clothes make the man, does hair make the woman?

I feel as though I will come out fully sooner rather than later. It’s gnawing at me, the perpetual itch begging to be scratched. I want the world to know me as I am rather as they perceive me to be. One day, I’ll heed V’s advice and simply come out to the world, resplendent in my true identity. I wonder how much of my introversion is a result of living a lie. I wonder if living the truth instead with set me free, bringing me out of the prison that I’ve been cursed to live my life.

Until then, I’ll continue to make strides. I’m leaving for Dallas on Friday morning, and I’m almost entirely sure that Stef will make the drive. I plan to spend some time as myself while at my friend’s house. I even had my friend A tell her husband about Stefani. He’s still reeling from shock.

And now even more people from work have been let into my secret. Soon, the entire place will know. When that happens, will I tell my family? How will they react? Will the accept or reject me? They, more than anyone, are the reason I haven’t come out. I love my family, and the threat of losing them is more than I can bare. We’ll see, I suppose. Until then, small strides, one step, one day at a time.

Third Anniversary of A Girl in Disguise

20160902_193600Today is the third anniversary of A Girl in Disguise, my blog detailing my journey back to crossdressing, and accepting myself as transgender. I can’t believe it’s been so long! I can’t believe I started back in 2013, though that was a huge year of change for me.

A quick recap of my journey. In January 2011, my marriage came to an end. My wife, who had never been faithful, and despite my attempts to salvage our marriage, decided to move to Arizona from Texas, to live with a man she had never met but talked to on War of Warcraft. Yes WoW ruined my marriage!, but not really.

2011 was a hard year for me, but I ended up beginning a relationship with a woman I knew by April and basically moved in with her in May, though I kept my own separate apartment. Divorced at the end of August, got rid of my apartment to move in with my girlfriend at the end of September to live officially with my girl. Three days later it came to an abrupt end. After I got rid of my apartment, she started going out every night, refusing to tell me where she was going, who she was with, and when she’d be back.

This was  a woman who refused to go out with me, professing to be  a homebody who didn’t want anyone to watch her kids while she went out. Wasn’t a problem once I moved in. She would find someone to watch them, and drink all night, coming home smelling of alcohol at 4 in the morning. Fresh from a failed marriage, I wasn’t interested in that, so I moved out, saying she needed to make her mind what she wanted. By the end of October, she emailed me to say we were through.

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My first photo as Stefani, Late December, 2014

So started my downward spiral. I left my job in March of 2012, my depression and desperation consuming me. I worked at a psych hospital, for all the good it did me. The CEO, who understood the Facility Director during his emotional trauma, didn’t give a shit about the dumb Mexican. He put ads in the paper for my job, looking to replace me behind my back. Much to his surprise, I left. I wasn’t going to let some racist asshole fire me for having trouble with my divorce and subsequent emotional upheaval. Consequently, I think all Psychiatrist and Therapists to be charlatans. They knew what I was going through, and not one gave a shit about what I was going through, but I digress.

That began my worst year. I couldn’t find a job. I was broke, virtually homeless, dependent on a friend for home and food.  After six months I moved back with my parents, deciding to go back to college to finish my degree. In January 2013, I started back, eager to earn the Bachelor’s Degree I had given up on thirteen years prior. In March, after a year of unemployment, I found a job with my current employer. In August after a semester and a summer session of classes, I earned my degree.

That September, I must have given in to my true identity and founded this blog, though it would be another fifteen months before I worked up the courage to start dressing again. I suppose every journey has a starting point, and mine began three years ago, writing my very first post, Starting OverSince then, I’ve written over one-hundred posts, this being the one-hundred and twelfth post published, posted eighty-four different photos of myself, and opened myself to world of possibilities that I had denied myself for over a decade, maybe even a whole lifetime!

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First photo I posted on my very first post!

Today, I’m still making progress. I contacted my ex-girlfriend, the same that started me towards the trajectory of misery and pain which forced me to confront the painful truth about myself, leading me to accept me for who I am. I told her about Stef, and she replied that she was happy for me. I let another coworker in to my secret over a late dinner after work, at one in the morning. She seemed pleased that I confided in her, saying that she loved me, and that she loved me even more for trusting her with this.

I don’t know where the last last quarter of this year will take me, much less where I’ll be in 2017 and beyond. I could scarcely have imagined that I would have come to this place, opening myself up to strangers and friends alike. It’s scary but exciting, and to think that I began it all one day in September, three years ago.

God bless, and wish me well!

~Stefani~

Stolen moments

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Showing a little leg? I guess I’m feeling a little frisky, lol! ~Stef~

I had chance to dress up this past Sunday. Felt so good. I almost didn’t, but I had to. I needed some time to dispel the disquiet from my soul. I had a few hours in between my morning shift, leaving at 1:00 p.m., before returning for a store meeting at 8:00 that night, so I took advantage of the free time and got dressed.

I feel as though I haven’t had much time for Stefani lately. Work has been consuming most of my time as of late. Working until midnight leaves me little time to dress up. It leaves me no time to go out. It leaves me anxious to find time to change and be fabulous for a few hours.

All I did was play on my phone and takelt relaxed and recharged after the fact. Taking off the mask and being me, even for a few stolen moments, quelled my anxiety.

I’m looking to go shopping sometime this weekend. One of my workers wants to take me shopping, which I mentioned a few weeks ago. I’m keen on going. I want to see what she thinks will look good on me. I’m also keen to expand my ever-growing wardrobe, which is strange. I’m in dire need of culling a few outfits since they don’t quite fit well. I’m also expanding my casual side, buying cheap t-shirts to wear when I don’t want to glam up too much. It’s nice.

I hope I get a chance to shop this weekend. It’ll be nice if I can. If not, at least I hope to put on something comfortable and go out, even if only for a drive. We’ll see. Tomorrow I’m supposed to meet another girlfriend for lunch, a crossdresser like me. I hope we can find time to actually meet en femme instead of in drab, but I’ll take what I can get. At least I can meet with a kindred spirit from time to time, which is a nice change of pace.

Quiet September

img_20160903_1936571It’s been quiet lately in Stefani’s world. I’ve been closing a lot these past few weeks, and I tend to dress after work, so opportunities to dress up have been few and far between. I had hoped to meet another friend of mine last Tuesday, another crossdresser in town, for dinner, but plans fell through. I was disappointed, of course, but I understood. I hope she’s feeling better now, and I pray we can reschedule soon.

My hair is getting longer now. In fact, it’s driving me crazy. I kind of want to get the clippers and buzz it off. It’s at that awkward stage when it’s not long enough to do anything with, but long enough to get in the way. It’ll be several more months before I can do anything with it, and maybe up to a year before it’s as long as I need it. I can’t wait!

Now that it’s getting cooler, I’m needing to start buying myself some winter outfits. I do have a few, but I need more. I also need to buy myself a couple of jackets, a leather one so I can look like a kick-ass bitch, and something a little more sophisticated.

A friend from work with whom I confided my secret is wanting to take me shopping. I have my usual partner that I go shopping, but another couldn’t hurt. She’s wanting to take me to Maurices, should our bonus checks from work be large enough. I’ve never been in there. I wonder what’s in there. I wonder if there’s anything I’d like.

It’s crazy how invested I’ve become in this. I’ve come along way from my purging days, where I’d buy a few things, hide them, then become disgusted with my perversity and throw everything away, only to have my compulsion force me back into the cycle. Now I’m trying to build as large a wardrobe as possible. I’m staring to shift gears and buy more comfortable articles, shorts and t-shirts. I’m wanting to buy some capris, but I do believe they’re out of season. Damn it!

I brought another person into my circle recently. Actually, I had my bestie tell her husband about me. She told me that he wasn’t all to surprised by it. I think he had suspected I was a little on the gay side, so me being transgender wasn’t too much of a shock. I’m not gay, by the way, not that it matters. I’ve come to the conclusion that as far as Stefani is concerned, I’m bi.

Hopefully I can dress up this weekend. I desperately need it. The only thing is that I have nowhere to go. Gone are the days when dressing up and hiding all day in my friend’s apartment was sufficient for me. Now I want to dress up and go out. I love being out in public. I’m just not in a place where I can do so comfortably.

 

Opening up my circle

13908956_1801598180075561_1473466685205957204_oWhat a crazy week. I don’t know whether to feel exhilarated, exhausted, or some combination of the two. It’s been a whirlwind of emotion, elation and suspense, all threatening to send me over the edge into a full-flown anxiety attack. Somehow I have made it, but I can go over at any time.

First, my outing. My coworker couldn’t make it to 212 on Saturday night. I had  feeling, and after the rough day I had at work, I decided I didn’t want to go. I had people call in sick, and then my assistant manger left at noon, leaving me to run the store on my own, without an experienced person in paint, so that I had to spend most of my day there, in addition to being the only manager-on-duty.

Further to that, a woman I work with was telling me about her ex, that we work with, that’s trying to get into her good graces again, showing her things on his phone that she’s rather not know. Curious, I asked her as to what it could be, and like the proverbial cat, I was skinned right there. She replied that he had shown her a certain picture, and that I probably know what she was talking about. She gave me no doubt as to the subject, which of course was me, as Stefani.

She was okay with it, for the most part, though it felt as though my world was slipping out of my fingers. Fearing that I was being whispered about, I went back to the paint desk, where a friend of mine had finally come in, and told her about Stefani. Actually, she told me, after I started talking about my alter ego. She was like “You talking about Stefani? That popped up on people’s Facebook about 8 months ago.”

So after work, I text my friend, freaking out, and she casually asked if I wanted a beer, and she wanted to finally meet Stefani, before everyone else did. I suggested 212, and she agreed. When the time came, she backed out, claiming she wasn’t in the mood. Neither was I by that point, and told her that the only reason I came out, was because of her. In the end, we ended up on her patio, drinking beers. It was nice, but weird to be out in front of someone I know. She loved my look, by the way.

Now, two days later, I decided that I needed to come out to my Store Manager at work. I figured that if people are talking about me, that if I’m being outed, that she needed to know, to preempt any problems that my arise, namely for my own safety.

Which brings me tangentially to my trip to OKC. I drove back en femme, getting back just in time to wash my face, shower, and dress for work. While there, my manager made a comment that it looked like I had eyeliner on. I must have had an arrested expression on my face, because she didn’t continue joking about it, though I tried to save face, and made some flippant jokes about it.

So back to today, sitting in her office, quivering with nervousness and fright, opening up to someone about myself, especially something I’m so protective about. I felt so vulnerable at that moment, confessing the biggest part of me. Those of you who are crossdressers  and transgenders know the fear. Those who have come out as gay know as well, I assume.

I sat there, in her office, across from her, and opened my soul. She was shocked and amazed, and extremely grateful that I shared that with her. Of course she’s been out as a lesbian for years, and understands the struggles. I told her that I am an extremely private person, but people have found out, and that I didn’t want any problems at work. To make a long story short, she promised to have my back, and that I shouldn’t fear that anything would jeopardize my job.

The thing I want to stress with this is that I didn’t come out as a crossdresser. I came out as transgender. It was freeing for me to speak to it, feeling the boundaries slowly slipping away. It’s amazing, and wonderful, and I’m happier for it. I feel the pretenses slipping away, slowly allowing me to be me.

I’m a long way from begin out all the way. I’m not ready for that, assuming that I ever will be. Considering where I began, I’m still amazed at my own progress and daring. My biggest fear is my family. I have no reason to believe that they will accept me for who I am. I have every reason to believe that they would disown me, the embarrassing son, destined for Hell.

And I’m afraid of the flames of Hell, but living a lie is its own torture. Coming to accept myself has given me the freedom to be happy. I’m happier now than at any other time in my life. It’s not easy, and the fear is overwhelming, but it’s getting easier.