Tag Archive | Male to Female

The Year of Stefani

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February 2017

Is it time for the 2017 retrospective yet? We still have a ways to go, but in the closing month of the year, I can’t help but look back a bit. I started the year afraid of going out anywhere, and I ended up going to my company Christmas party last week.

I have come out to many people, everyone I work with, essentially, and a couple of family members. I came out to a friend I met in college, a priest, someone who promised to remain at my side, to support me. I began meeting with a spiritual advisor. I went to Georgia, and I’m going again next week, this time all week as Stef.

I went from being scared to becoming bold. I went from remaining in the shadows, to coming out into the sun. I went from wanting to remain anonymous to wanting to be known for who I am. This is what 2017 has meant for me.

Going back three years, in 2014, I started dressing up again after more than ten years pretending to be someone I wasn’t. More than ten miserable years lost in anger and confusion, wanting to be a normal man. That didn’t work out.

2011 lost my wife and lost another relationship. 2012, lost my job. 2013 went back to college, got my current job, graduated with my bachelor’s degree, but it wasn’t until December 2014 that things started to come around.

It took time to find my style. I bought clothes, makeup, wigs. I built up a wardrobe, and for the first time ever, I didn’t purge a single thing. I came out to a friend in 2016, someone who accepted me, along with her mother. 2016 began the phase of accepting myself, and 2017 was the next phase,  of accepting that I could come out, that people could accept me. They have.

2017 has been my year, the year of Stefani. I have let myself be seen by so many. I started volunteering as Stefani, something that only lasted a couple of months, and something I wish I hadn’t let go of like I did. I made a few mistakes, as you can see, but I had something to give to the community. Something uniquely mine, and not my male alter ego’s.

I began my YouTube Channel, and though it doesn’t have many viewers, it helps me develop my thoughts as to who I am. I continue writing this blog, mostly as a personal journal as to my own journey, a way to look back and remember where I was, where I am, and where I want to be.

I’m looking forward to 2018 with renewed vigor. Where can I go from here? I have no plans to return into the shadows, or to remain a part time person. I would like to emerge more fully, though fully transitioning is still in question. Do I or don’t I? Some days I feel it so strongly that I must. Other days, I’m a little less certain.

This is what I do know. I am not an alter ego. I am not a character. I may refer to my male and female personas as two separate and individual people, but I have come to realize that I have integrated them into myself. I am both for both make up my singular personality. I may act a certain way depending on how I’m presenting myself, but I am essentially me.

If anything, that’s my biggest take away from 2017. I can’t wait to see what this upcoming year has in store.

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From then until now

It was a year ago that I took my first roadtrip as Stefani. I drove to Oklahoma City, spent the entire time dressed up, did some sightseeing, and drove back, without once changing into my male alter ego. I didn’t even take him clothes. It was a scary and exhilarating experience, and one I will never make again.

Since then, I’ve grown bold in my femme persona. As I write this, I’m in a coffee shop in Amarillo, a few blocks from where I work, wearing a skirt and blouse. Being Stef is less of an issue. I’m still apprehensive about it, especially with all the negativity thrown our way via the politicos in Washington and Austin, but no one gives me a second glance. I’m invisible.

Part of it is growing more comfortable in my skin. My first forays were spent in a state of hyper anxiety, waiting to be called out. But the more I have gone out, the less anxious I have become, learning to relax and enjoy my time out. The more comfortable I’ve become, the less attention I draw to myself.

Since my trip to OKC, I’ve gone out several time to DFW, visited the Arboretum there. I’ve driven to Lubbock and spent the day. I’ve started going out during the day here in my city. I’ve let more and more people into my life, the fear of being discovered having less power over me.

Only last week, I drove to Dallas, spent the entire time as Stef, and even visited my old work place. No one bothered to pay me any attention. I spend almost all my free time as Stef, only going out as Joe when it’s necessary, or when I go to work. I’m not yet ready to introduce myself as Stef there, even if most people already know.

Where I am now is coming to the decision that it’s time to move on. I never meant to stay in Amarillo, and I think my time here is coming to an end. I think that by next spring I’ll be ready to make the move to DFW. I’ll transfer to another Home Depot around the McKinney area, or maybe I’ll consider looking for another job altogether.

I’ll admit that I want to go to work as Stef. I want to live as Stef. The act of transitioning is growing more on my mind. I feel no rush when I dress up any more. I do not feel the excitement as I once did just to step out the door. It feels natural, it feels right, I feel like me.

I’m supposed to call someone my friend has recommended I talk to. She’s out of town until this coming week, but I’ll meet with her as soon as possible. I need to know how to proceed with my life, and my spiritual life is just as important to me as my physical well being.

There’s a lot to look forward to, and I can’t wait to live my life. My only regret is that I waited this long to come to terms with who I am. I can’t change the past, but I can make the right decision going forward. Here’s to me.

Hero

20160603_184413I’m a role model!? I never thought of myself as such, and I certainly don’t feel the part. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it’s an eye-opener to be sure. Whatever it is, it’s humbling, given that I’m just a boy, dressing like a girl, wishing she could be a girl, but knowing that that final plunge is one I will never take.

But her? She has a courage I lack, a determination to be who she needs to be, despite the hardships blocking her path. She’s my hero, my role model. She inspires me.

After my last post, I received a message from one of my followers. I don’t often get private messages, and when I do it’s usually some porn starlet seeking followers, are perverts wanting me to scratch their tranny-chasing itch. It’s creepy and a little insulting.

This one, however, was from a mother telling me about her son who wants to transition to female. Mom didn’t say much, and revealed a few intimate details that shall remain between us. What I will share is that my writing seems to inspire her son. Mom even sent me a picture with her son, and she’s beautiful. Her son, that is. Mom is too, but that’s tangential to the story.

I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the picture. My female side is in awe by her beauty. She’s young and beautiful, with a wonderful smile and gorgeous hair. I’m a little jealous, to be honest. My male side is like, whoa! Who’s the hotty?! My two sides crack me up sometimes. Then I realize I’m forty and creep myself out. Aging sucks!

But more than her physical beauty, it’s the fact that she’s able to be completely honest with herself about who she is that I find remarkable. She found the courage to be frank about her gender and then found a way to tell her mother. I could never do that. I’ve made my peace with living in the shadows, only making brief forays into the light, and this young woman is eschewing the darkness to bask in the glow of the sun.

I envy her!

I feel for her because I know being trans isn’t easy. There’s a lot of uncertainty and a tremendous amount of risk involved, yet she steadfastly seeks to walk that path. How is that not courageous? How can I not be awed by her strength? How can I not be moved by her mother’s devotion? It’s too amazing not to share!

I’m only a storyteller telling the stories I have lived. I feel like a scared child, poking their head out the door only to pull it back in again, shutting the world out again, then writing to tell you all about it. I won’t completely close the opportunity to come out to the world, but I highly doubt I will. For those who choose that path, I pray you find love and peace in the world. And for you, it’s not much, but I’ll extend my hand in fellowship and friendship. You’re a braver woman than I can ever hope to be. You are my hero.

God bless.

Looking forward

0517ed60af8bf43586449cb8c93679e18131e9-wmMea culpa! I haven’t been on in so long. I have no defense to offer you other than some lame excuse of being so busy in my real life. It’s pathetic, to be honest. I’ll try to be a better hostess and at least write once a week, both for you and also as a salve for my own soul. I need an outlet to just be me. I’ve missed that lately.

So what have I been doing that has kept me so distracted? I’m just trying to survive at work. There’s been a lot of craziness with new supervisors, a new store manager, and it looks like I may have a chance to move up myself! I haven’t offered a lot of details about my everyday life as a male. I work at a home improvement center mixing paint. It’s so exciting! Okay, it really isn’t, but it’s a job, and having been unemployed for a year, from 2012-13, I’m loath just to give it up.

I’ve worked retail much of my adult life. I’ve worked my way up to supervisory positions, going so far as to become a salaried assistant manager at a huge national retailer. I’ve put in the hard work, I earned the experience and knowledge, hell I even went back and earned my Bachelors, but that hasn’t helped me one iota. It’s all about kissing up, at least it has with my past two store directors. This one seems to care about productivity, and I’m putting in an effort to prove myself. I’m tired of working hard for so little. I deserve more!

The reason this is important to me is so that I can earn enough money to move out on my own. As much as I love living with family, there’s something disempowering about being a person in their late thirties – almost forty, ouch! – and living with mommy and daddy. I worked so hard to be on my own, got married and within a year I lost my wife, my house, my job, and even my car. I lost a lifetime. It’s taking me years just to get back to this!

So I want to move out on my own. I want to have the freedom to let me, Stefani Lara, out again. I want the freedom to sit in my living room, in a pretty dress or skirt, or even in a pair of exercise shorts or yoga pants, anything feminine, anything that lets me relax. I don’t have that know.

The closest I got lately was putting on a pair of panties and pantyhose under my male clothes as I drove down to the Dallas area this past weekend. It felt good, even if I had to do it under cover of my clothes. I could indulge myself for a while, enjoying the feel of knowing I could be Stefani to myself, though I had to show otherwise to the world.

That’s okay, for now. My hope is to move up and have my own place by the end of fall. I hope to translate that to a move down to DFW within a reasonable time frame. I think I’ll have more freedom to explore my femme side than I have up in the Panhandle of Texas. That is my plan. I just hope I can make it happen, the sooner the better.

Starting over

220px-Jasminum_sambac_'Grand_Duke_of_Tuscany'This is a scary step, but I think it’s time that I let my true self out. My name is Stefani Lara, and I’m a crossdresser. I guess, if I were to be honest, I’m transgender, a woman cursed with a man’s body, but I’ve made my peace with that. For the most part.

I’ve hidden myself from the world for over a decade, and I have been miserable. I’ve been married, and let my wife into my secret, and she resented it. She put me down and treated me like a freak. To add insult to injury, she cheated on me the entire time we were together. I doubt my crossdressing past had anything to do with it. She’s married and sends me nude photos of herself. She’s just that kind of girl.

I, however, am not.

But I’m now divorced, two years, single and needing to start my life over. This time my Stefani persona will be a part of who I am. I’m still in the closet, so to speak, with only my best friend in on my secret. She used to help me dress and taught me make-up. But that was almost fifteen years ago.

Anyway, I’m back and starting fresh. Look out world, lol!