I'm Me

By Donna

Edited by Cynthia Smith
I am a nineteen-year-old transvestite. I came out of the closet one and a half years ago. Understandably my parents were both upset, but through open discussions and time, they have both learned to accept the way things are. Its funny, my father, a career Marine near retirement, is easier to talk too than my very religious Hispanic step mother. My 21-year-old stepsister, on the other hand, has taught me make-up techniques and other feminine things that you can only learn right from a woman. She also bought me my first pair of high heels for my sixteenth birthday. Yes we have been intimate, but her virginity is still intact.

I moved out of my parents house one year ago and live in an efficiency apartment. I support myself by working as a waiter in one of the better restaurants in the area. My problems accepting myself have been minor; the problems of other people accepting me have been many. Some have threatened me with violence. I countered this by becoming a disciple of the martial arts of Karate and Jujitsu. That was three years ago and I now feel confidant that I can defend myself and my lifestyle if the situation goes critical mass. Nevertheless, those problems were mostly confined to high school. Here in this apartment complex they call me "that cute lesbian in 24C". When I over heard that remark it became the high point of my leaving home.

While in high school, I was on the swim team for my junior and senior years. Swimming is a beautiful form of exercise that leaves the body supple and toned but without the addition of unattractive muscle build up. It was during this time that I had my first gay love affair. He was Captain of the Swim team and he was and still is beautiful and rich. But when he graduated he was packed off to a rich mans college. I have not heard or seen him since. On the positive side, while we were lovers, he gave me quite a nice wardrobe of women's clothing as his mother is very big in the lingerie business. Oh Well . . . lose one. Pick up on another.

My current amour and computer mentor taught computer science at my high school. Before any of you get out your flamethrowers, it was I who made the first move toward sexual union. He has since gotten a much better job as a programmer with large international company in a major city south of here. I dress up and go to him on my days off. He gives me little presents, like this computer and free access to the Internet. Like my previous `clothes monger' he temps and seduces the whore in me. I hate to say it . . . but I like it.

Donna


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