Stef:
T
he first several months of Doris getting to know Stef was truly an adventure. We attended a couple
of conventions and spent lots of time together. We even developed a tradition (though it’s only two years
old now) of getting dressed on New Year’s Eve and taking a couple of pictures together. We figure that
through the years it would be nice to chronicle our time together. We even have a "fashion day" where the
clothes and the rolls of film go flying. But something of a surprise was in the works.
For all of the years that I have been cross-dressing, in various stages of being open and closeted, I never
had to deal with someone else being there with me while I was transforming myself. Previously, I had
always made-up and dressed downstairs or in the bathroom while my ex-wife waited (sometimes patiently,
sometimes not) for me to appear completely changed. You see, my ex never cared to be involved in the
process. Ultimately, she didn’t care to be involved in the process at all. So it was a completely new
experience when Doris and I started living together and the transformation had to take place in view. I
have to admit, I was not comfortable with her seeing the various stages that I went through getting to look
like Stef. Maybe it’s that testosterone thing? Do I want the woman I love watching me put my make up
on? Do I want her to see me shimmying into a pair of pantyhose? Do I want her to see her boyfriend
struggle to reach the zipper in the back of the dress? Those kind of thoughts made me very uncomfortable.
That combined with my nervousness about appearing in public in daylight hours to make the RCGA
meetings on time, I think I was throwing out some negative vibrations that she quickly picked up on.
During our many talks about cross dressing, I would often bring up a question that had been on my mind
for quite a while: Was Stef any different than Steve? I had concluded that the two of us (that even sounds
strange) had indeed merged into one being - just different wardrobes. In the beginning of my asking this
question, Doris’s answer was always "no". Then it started to be "Well no, not really". It seems that I
tended to become extremely quiet during the "getting ready" and "getting there" stages of our evenings
together. She had correctly interpreted my discomfort by observing that I got quiet. At first I tried to write
this behavior off to the fact that I was nervous about going out in public. Then I tried to attribute it to the
amount of concentration I put forth in an attempt to look my best. Eventually I had to face the fact that I
wasn’t completely comfortable with doing these extremely feminine things in front of the woman I
intended to be with for the rest of my life. I’m sure that she doesn’t realize to this day, that a private
struggle was going on in my head.
If I am with the person that I love, without reservation, a person that totally accepts me, then why in the
world should I be worried about something as simple as letting her be in the same room with me when I
apply make-up? The answer hadn’t come to me, but I adopted an old stand-by attitude. If she can’t take
the heat - then she should get out of the kitchen (extreme in the least, I admit). When I first told Doris of
my being transgendered, I went in with the attitude that if she couldn’t take it, then fine; we shouldn’t be
together. After that hurdle was jumped, I knew that she had to meet me and be able to be around me when
I was cross-dressed. If she couldn’t handle that, fine; we didn’t belong together. But now, here was the
only person on this earth that could break my heart and I couldn’t bring myself to do something in front of
her that she already knew that I did. Maybe, I just actually realized how stupid I was being!
Over the course of the last several months my comfort-level has increased. I can "get ready" with Doris
being around. Maybe, I finally realized that she knew what I went through; because she had been doing it
herself for years. Or maybe I just forgot all of that macho bullshit I have been programmed to perform and
decided to let fate take it’s course. Or maybe I decided to trust the one that I love, the one that loves me.
Doris:
After Cupid left his mark on Steve and me, and before moving to Omaha, our long distance
romance consisted of long expensive phone conversations, and traveling back and forth to be together as
much as possible. Some of our weekends included Stef and others did not. When the "girls" got together
there was that added activity of Steve transitioning to Stef. At first, I was unsure of what I was supposed to
do with myself during this time. As the cosmetics and makeup mirror invaded the top of the dining room
table, I felt compelled to sit and watch; at the same time feeling a little uneasy, intrusive. Sensing Steve’s
nervousness, I realized I felt very much the same way when he happened to observe me going through this
daily all consuming ritual. Using my better judgment, I decided to give him some space and privacy
(something we should all respect), until we both became more comfortable.
As every couple knows, living together, along with the passing of time, eases the tensions of the "dating
game". You and your partner really get to know each other and become comfortable with being
yourselves. At the start of our relationship, I remember feeling a little intimidated if Steve made a
suggestion about the way I applied my makeup, or gave me an idea about what I was wearing. I quietly
thought to myself that he had no right to comment about my sense of fashion or cosmetics. It took no time
at all for my inner self to wake me up and say, "Woman, here is the one and only man in your life who
has ever taken notice, and loves who you are and the way you look!" This made me appreciate and love
this person even more. Most women would give their right arm to have their partner even so much as to
acknowledge they were alive, much less take notice of a new outfit or hair style. I feel unique to these
women, and now accept and even invite suggestions or ideas from Steve.
As our relationship grows, so does our comfort level with each other. We (three) have a great time
together. Not long ago, Stef asked me for my opinion on how she looked, how she passed, and what she
could do to improve. I gave her a few suggestions, but I honestly believe the best advice I gave was to be
yourself and do the best with what you have. We all look in the mirror from time to time and dream of
looking like someone else, someone we know that we can’t be. With that, Stef gave me the best advice yet
– take your own advice!
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