Pamela DeGroff


I have never attempted to write an auto-biographical piece before, unless you want to count my Left of Center column in the Vals newsletter. I have always heard that writing which communicates best deals with subject matter the author is familiar with. I am definitely familiar with all the weirdness that a cross-dresser goes through, so I guess I am writing about myself in each column.

I am 42 years old and have been out as a cross-dresser for about 3 years now. The reason it took so long to accept this is because I didn’t know what I was dealing with until recently.

I come from a small town in northwestern Ohio. Solidly middle class, white Anglo-Saxon Protestant. The kind of Normal Rockwell environment where cross-dressing is just not discussed. Being different up in such a small town certainly sets you apart.

Sports ruled when I was in school, but I’m totally inept at anything athletic. Give me a ball and you have a comedy routine. This is one of the reasons I became a musician.

All through these years at home, I couldn’t figure out why I liked women’s clothing so much, especially shoes, but also liked girls at the same time. I wanted to get in a woman’s pants just like any other guy, except I also wanted to try them on.

In 1971, I became a Christian. Upon graduation from high school in 1972, I moved to Fort Wayne, Ind., to attend Bible college. It was there that I met my future wife and became involved in Christian music.

I thought that all these things - Christianity, ministry and marriage would free me from my obsession with dressing. Somehow, I thought all of this would make a man out of me. Instead, the next 19 years of my life were filled with stress and more ups and downs than I care to remember. I did not have a supportive wife. She would not talk about my dressing with me. She always thought I was mentally off, or demon possessed. She always wanted me to get counseling and "get over it". Needless to say, sometimes the tension was unbearable.

I was divorced in 1992 and made the decision to deal with my dressing by trying to find out as much information about it as I could. Through he classified section of one of the local gay newspapers, I got the address of the Tennessee Vals. Marisa was my first contact, and Rachel, one of the other original members, became my "drag mom" and started teaching me about make up and all the other fun things we need to know in order to find our way out into the world.

Since that time, I have become very active in the Vals and in the local gay/bisexual/transgendered community as well.

In 1993, I attended my first Southern Comfort convention in Atlanta. In ‘94 and ‘95 I marched in the local pride parade here in Nashville during pride week. During the 1995 Pride Week, I represented the Vals during a spiritual gathering for the local community.

I have served as a member of the Vals board of directors as treasurer, and started doing my Left of Center column last summer. I really enjoy doing the column, if for no other reason than it lets me bitch about stuff I normally wouldn’t.

Perhaps the best thing that has happened to me though, is simply getting the information I needed about my cross-dressing. It’s hard to put into words now important and reaffirming it is to know that I’m not the only heterosexual cross-dresser out there. Through everything I’ve been able to read, and from all the conversations I had with some incredible people, I’ve been able to find myself as a person and come to terms with everything in my life. Now, if I could just make more money...

I need to say thanks to everyone who has ever helped me along this path. A big wet sloppy kiss to all of you. I’d also like to invite anyone who reads this to get in touch with us. I joined the Vals when they were just starting out. Since that time, our membership has grown tremendously, and the availability of information has grown just as much. We are here for you. If you’re young, don’t wait like I did to figure all this out. If you’re one of the older girls, rest assured that there are many others just like you, and we are willing to listen and help you when we can. Thanks for your time.


Muffy, Buffy and Biff

By Pamela DeGroff

(Loosely based on a true story???)

Muffy, Buffy and Biff
Came out to take a whiff
Of a life they never knew existed
Muffy said to Biff,
"Girl friend, don't get stiff;
Here's a personal ad in which your kind is listed." 

Well, Biff got all excited
All three were much delighted
As work began to transform boy into girl
In stilleto heels and wig
Biff was eight feet big
My, they said, let's take this for a whirl

With a corset straight from Hell
And perfume for the smell
Off they went into the jungle night
Biff, now known as Barbie
Said, "Be still my hear beat."
As they stopped into a bar so neon bright

After drinking and some dancing
And some bisexual romancing
The girls ran off and left Biff by himself
Big Ed from Alabama
Said, "Biff, I'd love to jam ya."
All the booze made Biff say, "Oh, that's swell."

So to a rented room they went
And they proceeded to make a dent
In a pile of bodies strewn around the bed
Six or seven people mounting
Could be eight, but who's counting
Hard to put a number on oh so many heads 

At the bottom, Biff spied Muffy
Quite entangled with young Buffy
Once again all three were buddies, bossom pals
Big Ed said, "Biff you're great,
You're not walking very straight,
But that's the cost of being such a sexy gal." 

Hope you liked this little story
All the weirdness and the glory
Of Muffy, Buffy, Biff
When they came out to take a whiff

Pam's Monologue at the Blessing of the Wigs, Sept. 14, 1997

By Pamela DeGroff

(Author's Note: The following piece started life as a simple idea for an article for one of my columns, but when I read over a rough draft of it, I thought it was way too personal for print. When it came time to plan Stonewall Mission Church's portion of the Spirituality Celebration for Pride Week, I asked Rev. Jim Hawk if I could do a reading as part of our presentation. He told me that nothing had been officially planned, so why don't I just go ahead and use my piece as Stonewall's presentation? It was Rev. Hawk's idea for me to actually memorize it rather than just stand there and read it. He said it would be more effective that way. I have been a musician for years, so I'm very used to being on stage. However, I've always had a guitar up there with me. Doing a solo, non-musical thing was very different. What the heck do you do with your hands? To say the least, I was scared you-know-what-less. I don't really have a title for this. It's just a personal glimpse at a transgendered person coming to terms with himself/herself. Thanks for tuning in.)

Hello, my name is Pamela. My parents named me John. Little did they know...

I grew up in a small town in northern Ohio. Of course, that term "grew up" is relative. When you're a kid, everyone says, "My, but you're getting big." In my case, it didn't take 'em long before they stopped saying that. Somehow, when you're a kid, and a male, when people say "How big you're getting', they also seem to mean you're becoming more of a man. So what does it mean when they stop saying it?

Also, in small town Ohio, SPORTS RULE!

Well, guess what. You give me a ball and you have a comedy routine. It went beyond being picked last for the team. Fist fights used to break out to see who got stuck with me.

About the time I discovered why God created girls, I also discovered I was fascinated with their clothing. Fascinated-hell! I was just plain jealous. Why'd they get all the neat stuff? It just wasn't fair.

But I also knew-I like girls. In fact, I considered myself an outright, flaming heterosexual. I want to get into a woman's pants just like any other straight guy-the only difference is, I'd also like to try 'em on.

Remember now, this is small town Ohio we're talking about here. You just don't talk about stuff like this unless you want to become a hood ornament on some redneck's pickup truck.

So, what can I do to prove my self worth, what can I do to justify my existence? I know, I think I'll become a musician. Of course, for me, this has sorta turned out like a vow of poverty.

I became a Christian in 1971, and got involved in Christian music. I got married very young and fathered two children, whom I love dearly. I thought all of this stuff was the right thing to do; I thought it would straighten me out, "make a man out of me!"

WRONG

Oh, and let's not forget to add to the mix here, a pair of very thick glasses. Granted, they helped keep me out of the Army during Vietnam. (Well, there was also that little incident during my physical. You know the guy who tells you to turn your head and cough? I kissed him and told him I wanted to have his baby. They told me the Army wouldn't be calling unless the Russians stopped for gas in Cleveland. ) We won't go into that any more, but still, try growing up with these puppies.

So, what do we have here? Well, let's go to the menu board. Hmmm, I think I'll have a short, myopic, crossdressing Christian musician, with a side order of a very deep voice, thank you. My, my, my, MY, MY1 Take me home to meet Momma.

So here I am at the tender age of 40 plus none of your business years, and I learned a new word-TRANSGENDERED. After all this time, after all these years of saying "God, what's going on here...? Why this...? Why me...? Has my reality check bounced or what...? " After all this time, I find I'm...transgendered. There's a name for this. I'm not alone. There are others like me.

Each one of us who calls themselves Gay, of Lesbian, or Bisexual, or Transgendered, has had to learn how to accept ourselves. Notice I said, we had to "learn" how to do this. The society we live in goes out of it's way to make us feel like we don't belong, like we're social outcasts, pariah's. We've been made to feel like God Himself made a mistake when He created us.

The fact is, Bubba, God is not in the mistake business.

Think in terms of a very valuable diamond. When you pick it up to examine it, you notice that each facet presents a different perspective of the gem. One facet might reveal a flaw, but another, when it catches the light, can reveal incredible, breath taking beauty.

Our Creator made us like this diamond. When the world sees us, they sometimes see a flaw. But we are a complete people, and we hold within us the flaws, AND the beauty God meant to put there.

And, just like that diamond, some of us are works in progress; some of us are ready for the market place.

Yeah, my parents named me John...

...but my name is Pamela.

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