Post by angela on Jul 9, 2022 20:47:28 GMT
Hey girls,
My name is Angela, and I hav been struggling with my longing burning easier to be female since I was 11. I Am now 56. Though I have come out to various people over the years I have never lived out in the open, though there is that voice inside me screaming to be freed longing to be who she feels herself to truly be. Once she took hold of me I could never really shake her. Though I could repress her for periods of time. But just below the surface she was always there. Longing to be heard longing to be seen wanting to be known and accepted and yet terrified who might find out. But the periods of repression would eventually result in her showing up in risky ways that threatened to ruin the status quo. Not being fully happy to dress in private but going out to be seen. Allowing the neighbors to witness her in the streets of her community. Purposefully walking to a lingerie shop to look around. Not seeming to care who might find out. Being stopped by an officer on one such outing thinking she might be a prostitute. An encounter I found both terrifying and exciting. Seeking the male attention that made me feel validated as a woman. And all along questioning whether this was who I really was or some weird perversion.
My first encounter with this girl occurred November 31 1976, when my step sister dared me to dress up as her girlfriend and walk up to the corner convince store. When we arrived at the front of the store a group of neighborhood boys began to whistle and cat call us. Scared we ran to an open storage room on the side of the store where we remained until my stepsister said let’s go and bolted for home but I was frozen with fear after an eternity she an her mother came to rescue me and walk me home. This occasion would reoccur two weeks later when my stepsister reissued her dare. What occurs to me now as I think back on it is how I so readily accepted the dares both times. I willingly and excitedly accepted the opportunity to dress as a girl and go out. Yet I do ever recall any desire to be a girl prior to these events. Later in 2003 I finally came out to my mother as wanting to be a girl, he said she never noticed any effeminacy in me growing up. And as a thought my mom though she didn’t turn me away and seemed to realize what I was experiencing was real. Never could bring herself to use my name, or call me her daughter or refer to me with feminine pronouns. Although to her credit she told my baby brother about me when I expressed my desire that my family know. She would tell hm that she didn’t think my marriage would last asI wanted to be a woman. And after years of badgering her she would tell her best friend. Perhaps I thought if enough people knew I would be forced to fully come out and be free to live as a woman. Eventually my stepsister, my other brother, my step mom and daughter were included in my secret life but none fully committed to me as a woman. My stepsister come the closest but is not fully on board. And eventually all thee of my wives would come to know two now in divorce and the third who initially accepted it as a kink in the bedroom came to a very anti-lgbt position and says it had better be in the past and I had better be in remission. I have over the years question if I truly am female. As I I’d not always know as most girls will say. There was an outside influence, my stepsisters dares. But when she never dared me again. I couldn’t stop wanting to be a girl once awakened I found myself unable to stop wanting to be her. I dressed in my stepsisters and stepmothers things when I was home alone and I would practice walking talking standing acting like a girl in front of the large mirror in my stepmothers room. And soon after I found myself thinking romantically about boys. And shortly thereafter during a sleepover where a friend of mine discovered me wearing a bra to bed a nightly practice I could stop myself from doing even when I had company. I would discover the unimaginable and incredible feeling I get from pleasing a man and being treated like a girl in the bedroom he satisfied his own need rolled off and went to sleep. This would be his practice every time we would get together. But I didn’t care I was really a girl. That is how it made me feel.
My name is Angela, and I hav been struggling with my longing burning easier to be female since I was 11. I Am now 56. Though I have come out to various people over the years I have never lived out in the open, though there is that voice inside me screaming to be freed longing to be who she feels herself to truly be. Once she took hold of me I could never really shake her. Though I could repress her for periods of time. But just below the surface she was always there. Longing to be heard longing to be seen wanting to be known and accepted and yet terrified who might find out. But the periods of repression would eventually result in her showing up in risky ways that threatened to ruin the status quo. Not being fully happy to dress in private but going out to be seen. Allowing the neighbors to witness her in the streets of her community. Purposefully walking to a lingerie shop to look around. Not seeming to care who might find out. Being stopped by an officer on one such outing thinking she might be a prostitute. An encounter I found both terrifying and exciting. Seeking the male attention that made me feel validated as a woman. And all along questioning whether this was who I really was or some weird perversion.
My first encounter with this girl occurred November 31 1976, when my step sister dared me to dress up as her girlfriend and walk up to the corner convince store. When we arrived at the front of the store a group of neighborhood boys began to whistle and cat call us. Scared we ran to an open storage room on the side of the store where we remained until my stepsister said let’s go and bolted for home but I was frozen with fear after an eternity she an her mother came to rescue me and walk me home. This occasion would reoccur two weeks later when my stepsister reissued her dare. What occurs to me now as I think back on it is how I so readily accepted the dares both times. I willingly and excitedly accepted the opportunity to dress as a girl and go out. Yet I do ever recall any desire to be a girl prior to these events. Later in 2003 I finally came out to my mother as wanting to be a girl, he said she never noticed any effeminacy in me growing up. And as a thought my mom though she didn’t turn me away and seemed to realize what I was experiencing was real. Never could bring herself to use my name, or call me her daughter or refer to me with feminine pronouns. Although to her credit she told my baby brother about me when I expressed my desire that my family know. She would tell hm that she didn’t think my marriage would last asI wanted to be a woman. And after years of badgering her she would tell her best friend. Perhaps I thought if enough people knew I would be forced to fully come out and be free to live as a woman. Eventually my stepsister, my other brother, my step mom and daughter were included in my secret life but none fully committed to me as a woman. My stepsister come the closest but is not fully on board. And eventually all thee of my wives would come to know two now in divorce and the third who initially accepted it as a kink in the bedroom came to a very anti-lgbt position and says it had better be in the past and I had better be in remission. I have over the years question if I truly am female. As I I’d not always know as most girls will say. There was an outside influence, my stepsisters dares. But when she never dared me again. I couldn’t stop wanting to be a girl once awakened I found myself unable to stop wanting to be her. I dressed in my stepsisters and stepmothers things when I was home alone and I would practice walking talking standing acting like a girl in front of the large mirror in my stepmothers room. And soon after I found myself thinking romantically about boys. And shortly thereafter during a sleepover where a friend of mine discovered me wearing a bra to bed a nightly practice I could stop myself from doing even when I had company. I would discover the unimaginable and incredible feeling I get from pleasing a man and being treated like a girl in the bedroom he satisfied his own need rolled off and went to sleep. This would be his practice every time we would get together. But I didn’t care I was really a girl. That is how it made me feel.