From Perversion To Beauty : Or How I Stopped Worrying About How I Loved Myself And Just Loved Myself

Well I’m lost and I’m found, and I can’t touch the ground, I’m plowed into the sound…

Why did it take me so long to realize I was a woman?  Well, it’s because it was repressed for a long time, and it decided to come out in the most unusual way.  Not that unusual, but unusual enough for me to freak and try and ignore it.

I’m a crossdreamer.  If that’s not familiar, maybe you’ve heard of the term (that I only use as reference, because I don’t really like it, and I’m not alone) autogynephilia?  Either way, it boils down to being sexually aroused at the thought of being a woman.

Ever since puberty, it’s been there.  And it freaked me the hell out.  Many of my oldest friends have said to me the past two days, post coming out, “you always seemed so uncomfortable in your own skin.”  After I give them grief for not telling me this sooner, I have to admit that it makes sense.  I didn’t know how to process the information.   So, I didn’t.  And that only made it worse.  The fantasy became…fantastical.  It fed in to itself.

This is somewhat embarrassing to admit, but I let it go unchecked for so long, that the female form that gets me going is quite, ahem, exaggerated.  In more ways than one.  In short, nothing gets me hotter than imagining myself as a dirty busty slut.

Will I wake up, is it some dream I made up?  No I guess it’s reality.

I say I fall in to the bisexual area of the orientation spectrum.  It’s because of this that I do.  Normally, I’m only attracted to women.  But once the fantasy starts, and in my mind I’m this, quite frankly, caricature of a female, I want a man to ravish that female.  Or men.  But once the, uh, bill is settled, that’s immediately put back on the shelf.  I do wonder if I start living as a woman, if things will congeal and I’ll become much more conventionally bisexual.  But that’s a future thought, this is the past I’m dealing with right now.

So, of course, once the notion of getting plowed like a whore on pay day became part of the deal, not only was I freaked out about the general fantasy, but then I started questioning my orientation.  My gender was still, for whatever reason, no where on my radar for things that I should be looking in to.

I stumbled upon Fictionmania around this time.  I found stories that matched my fantasies almost to the letter.  Well, now I knew I wasn’t alone, that’s for sure.  But it was in the reviews section of a story (by a somewhat infamous author of the genre, Ed Miller) that I saw the term autogynephilia.  Once I did, I stumbled upon Jack Molay, who had just rebranded his website as Crossdreamers.

This is where the female, who had been trying desperately to bust out all those years, finally got her foot in the door.  From there, it was still a rocky road, but I knew at the very least there was a woman in me.  I initially identified as bigender.  Quickly I realized there wasn’t anything male about me that wasn’t purely biological, or an artificial construct I used as a mental shield.  I was a woman, (relatively) plain and simple.

Windy road to get there.  Wish I had figured it out sooner, but that’s my story.