I was born in a white Cape cod style house in NE Portland 1n 1955 and have never lived more than a hundred twenty miles from there

     I started my transition officially an July 16th, 2004 a little over a month after coming out to my family and friends, and have been full time since November 2004. I am married, but separated. My wife of 20 years has accepted me as a woman, but not as a lover. We remain friends to this day. 

     I am a Christian although I no longer attend church. I worship God in my own way, and believe He accepts me and has given me the strength to correct my birth defect.  He has given me many gifts throughout my lifetime, and I truly feel one of His greatest is giving me the courage to accept who I am.

     I had taken hormones on and off for about seven years before seeing my doctor in June of 2004 When I started my pre-transition . I don't recommend anyone starting Hormone Therapy on their own. You can talk to your doctor about it in a safe and confidential environment, and if he or she cannot help you, can give you a referral to someone who can. I am very fortunate to have two of the most compassionate and caring doctors overseeing my transition, along with a therapist that lets me discover my self in a very understanding way.

Enough preaching.

     I am the youngest child in a family of eight, My Mom and Dad, three brothers and two sisters.

     I have known that I was a girl in my heart since my earliest memory, about 4 years old. I remember growing up, my oldest sister telling everyone I was supposed to be a girl. That would have evened out the family.

     I had never been what some refer to as an effeminate boy, nor was I the typical male. I guess I could be described as an in between.

     I went through the typical stages of cross dressing and purging and every time I returned the feelings of being incomplete grew stronger. Shortly after my first marriage ended about 24 years ago, I started seeing a psychologist. I quit going soon after she diagnosed me as transsexual. I knew then that she was right, but put myself into denial, because that simply wasn't ok in our world. I had heard stories, and done some research to find out that this diagnosis would turn my world against me. So I continued to hide and deny my desire to be a whole woman.

But I learned over the ensuing years, you can never run away from it.

     The first time I was ever caught dressing up was during my sixth grade year. I was alone in my room on a Friday night, when my Mother came in. I quickly jumped into bed to cover up but she had already seen me. After making me take the covers down, she went to get my Dad. I don't remember much of what was said that night, but the next day, he took me to where he worked so he could weld a bar across my hand-me-down bike from my sister, to make it a "boys" bike.

     During the ride down, he talked to me about what I was doing, and asked me why. I really couldn't answer him, He also asked me if I wanted to be a girl. and that there were doctors they could take me to.  I lied to him.

     The next day a group of kids in the neighborhood were playing baseball on the street in front of our house. He encouraged me to play, so I did. I ended up fracturing my arm trying to catch a fly ball at the same time someone else was. I had broken my arm when I was 5, and it didn't hurt nearly as much as this did. Mom took me to the doctor the next day, and I came home with a half cast.

      It seems that every time I was caught wearing girls clothes, I ended up getting hurt physically by trying to do 'boy' things. My dad never punished me, but kept it hidden from the rest of the family.

     I never really dated until my senior year of high school, and then it was only twice until just before the end of the year, when our school band and orchestra went on tour to Expo-74. I met a cellist who was giving me a hard time about getting drunk and cracking 2 ribs,. We started talking. and spent the return trip next to each other, settling into what was the start of a seven year relationship.

     I told her about my cross-dressing at one point and was pretty much told I was sick. We dated for a few years after that, until I felt there was to life than I was seeing, and wanted to see other people. She was crushed, and I know it hurt her deeply. Eventually she moved on, and we actually became friends for a while then lost track of each other.

     I looked her up in early 2005, and we have spoken several times since. She is happy, still single, and living in Florida. I consider her to be one of those rare lifelong friends that no matter what time passes between you. You can always count on to listen.

      I dated for a while after we split up, but something in my life always felt incomplete. I Put my time and energy into work until I met my first wife. She approached me asking if I was available. We started dating, and I spent all of my free time with her and her 2 kids. We married quickly in a Vegas style wedding chapel in Vancouver Washington, and moved to Canby Oregon. This was the first time I had been away from my parents home. A few months after we were married I lost my job and things started to go bad. I was applying for work wherever I could. I had a good chance as a salesman in a jewelry store, until she told me this wasn't a "Real Man's Job". shortly after that I found out she had been in contact with her ex boyfriend (who used to beat her), and one night about five months after we were married, she told me she wanted a divorce. I moved out the next day.

      I spent the next few years in and out of relationships, but my female side always seemed to get in the way. One of my girlfriends wanted me to see a psychiatrist. Which  as I mentioned earlier, I did. I saw her five times, but stopped going after she diagnosed me as being transsexual.  I wasn't ready to face this yet.

      I came out to a few close friends, and was accepted openly by most. some weren't as kind, and stopped all contact with me.  Two of my friends, a lesbian couple, and my best friend Dan took me out on the town one night 'En Femme'  It felt wonderful to be out and comfortable as myself. We drank, talked and danced all night. I remember this night now and then when I think of Dan, who passed away a few years ago, Sitting alone on a beach that he loved. He knew he was about to die, and did so silently without fanfare.

      I met my second wife in early 1985. I had asked her out several times, and each time was rejected. She finally agreed and one evening we went out with a group of friends to an oldies bar where Dan knew the DJ. Again things moved quickly, and within a week, she and her eighteen month old daughter were living with me. I came out to her shortly after she moved in and was told she had suspected that to be the case. We married 8 months later in a small civil ceremony followed by a reception at my parents. The dress she wore that day had been mine.

We had more than our share of problems but through the years we were there for each other. I supported her through her memories and subsequent therapy for being sexually abused as a child and teen. She supported me through a gambling addiction that caused us to lose our home. She went on and off accepting my need to dress, and it tore her apart when I fell in love with a coworker. This caused us to separate to try to work out our differences. I did not see then that our differences, were based on our similarities.

      It was during the first few months of separation that my need to be true to myself became evident. It was in fact my wife that convinced me to accept what we both knew, and supported me while I started the steps to become a complete woman. To clarify the terminology used here, when I say supported, it is in the emotional sense of the word. I have always been the provider for our family, My wife helped when she could, and she provided the ultimate care and nurturing for our daughter. Most would say this was archaic thinking, but I never once resented taking care of my family, and we always managed to survive.