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Longing to be a Woman (GeoFeed.net)
Thu, 20 Nov 2008 08:49:36 +0100
Choose cake.
Geographical References: Pennsylvania / Manor, Pennsylvania / Knox, Pennsylvania / Pocono Manor, Pennsylvania
(This is something I have wanted to share for quite some time, so bear with me, friends.)
I seriously considered suicide one evening in the summer of 1968 on Knox Avenue in Mt. Pocono, PA. I had been living with my mother and step-father for about a year after nearly 20 years of being bounced around like a basketball among various family members. I was trying to fit in. The Poconos were an exciting, cool place to be back then and my stepfather got me a job as a bartender at Pocono Manor, where I worked very hard and hung out with a bunch of other college kids working their way through school.
However, I had some secrets that were eating away at me. I was a virgin. I had been (and would be again, as it turned out) a fat man and was trying to cope with suddenly weighing 195 pounds for the first time since I was 15. (A year later, Uncle Sam congratulated me on the weight loss and invited me to visit Vietnam.)
Worst of all, I wanted to be a woman, which I was sure would send me straight to hell. And, of course, I could not possibly share that with anyone. So, I removed the .45 automatic from my stepfather's bedside table and walked out into the wooded area next to our house and tried to decide whether it was best to put it IN my mouth or to my temple.
Obviously, I failed.
For a remarkably wussy reason: I had "stolen" the gun from my stepfather and that was a sin. (Back then, I still bought into the God thing.)
My next suicide attempt wasn't until 1992 when I stood on the median of a busy highway in Sarasota, Florida and seriously considered stepping out in front of a semi. Although sin was no longer an issue with me, I thought of the tragedy the truck driver would have to live with and decided suicide, while painless, according to the M*A*S*H theme song, was extremely selfish.
I ran through all this crap today for the frightened, lonely men out there who steal away an hour here and there to wear the clothes they love while listening for car doors, voices and keys turning in locks with the feverish fear of a cat burglar. Wearing a dress is not a sin. Trying to look like a woman is not going to bring the planet screeching to a halt. Even losing a wife because of your compulsion is not necessarily an ending. Often, it is a wonderful beginning. Remember, that - when all is said and done and we return to whence we came - we are all alone. If we're lucky, we get to share some of our life with someone we love, or like or have learned to live with. But, bottom line, it is OUR life.
I wasted 40 years trying to conform to what society expects, trying to overcome my "sinful" behavior in the eyes of an invisible man in the sky who, I finally discovered, wasn't even there.
For 40 years, I could not even tell a priest or a minister about what I wanted to be, what I wanted to do. Now, I am married to the completely supportive, completely beautiful Joy Cleve and we belong to a church that cares not if I am a femulator because it is a TRULY accepting church. (For more on that, click on Femulator Church on the link bar up top.)
Sorry I went on and on, folks, but I wrote from the heart. One draft. No fixes. Just my heart full of love for my fellow femulators. I want them to know we are not just okay, we are often the best men can be. And wives of femulator, don't be afraid. Your men are expressing the best of what they see in you and maybe, just maybe, that'll make them better humans.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Susan, Iowa and me
Geographical References: Iowa
Susan Stanton, a rather famous male to female transsexual is a friend of mine and my church has been behind her 100% ever since she came out a year ago. Susan Stanton (formerly Steve Stanton) used to work as the city manager of Largo, Florida before she was fired for planning to have a gender reassignment. It was heart wrenching to read her story of transition, of how friends, coworkers and her employer abandoned her, but heartening to hear of those who rallied around her. While the media attention on Susan dwarfs her experience being a woman (as some have noted), I think it's wonderful that she is finding doors open for her. Even though she may not be the "perfect" representative for the transgender community, her success, as high profile as it is, will help many people realize that there is more to them than the clothes they wear and the pills they take.
I applaud Iowa for looking at Susan's "skills, knowledge, ability, education and work history", and are basing their decision "solely on her resume and qualifications." I'm especially impressed that some in Iowa have noted Susan's sex change as a positive that may give her the ability to empathize with people from many walks of life.
Susan, you are one of the brave people who knew you were female and hung in there to set things right. And I applaud and admire you. I, on the other hand, feel a little sheepish about my situation because it pales by comparison to yours.
However, for four decades, I WANTED to be a woman. It has only been in the last ten years that I realized that I wanted to be my own personal fantasy of a woman. In other words, I wanted to wear women's clothes, look pretty, and feel like I deserve to be here. You were a woman trapped in a man's body for some time.
I was a man trapped in a man's body and I have hated it my whole life. I love women to excess, to my detriment and faithfully. Which is why my femulation is true, honest and - to the best of my ability - honorable to the gender I adore.
Although I am not a transsexual, I know how you feel about the hatred and confusion within the TG ranks. I have respect for all of the transgendered, no matter their attitude or beliefs, but my personal mission is to help my fellow heterosexual femulators, the "male lesbians" of TG land.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Good woman
From the moment I decided to be a woman, I decided that I wanted to be a good woman.
While drag queens are terrific entertainers, they are often an exaggeration of a woman.
While regular transvestites need to dress in women's clothes, they sometimes - through no fault of their own - look like a man in a dress.
Since transsexuals have a lot more on their minds than simply wearing the clothes of their real gender, they are often less concerned with the clothing than they are with their gender reassignment.
I was a unique case in that I was a man who merely wanted to be a woman, so surgery was not in the picture. I wanted to be a real woman, so entertaining was not on the agenda. I am lucky to be 5'9" at a time when taller women are becoming more prevalent, to have long hair that could be styled like a woman's, and a job where I had no co-workers to whom I would have to "come out." (Self-employed, at first) In addition, I had only been in Burbank for a couple of years so very people knew me as Frank Cleve.
So, I followed through on my desire to be "a good woman." I wanted to be a tasteful, attractive representative of the gender I worship.
A good woman is content with herself. She respects herself and others. She is aware of who she is and is quite capable of articulating her needs. A good woman is hopeful and strong enough to work toward making her dreams come true. She gives love without thought of it being reciprocated. A good woman is inspired and inspiring. A good woman knows her past, understands her present and moves toward the future. A good woman does not live in fear of the future because of her past. Instead, she understands that her life experiences are merely lessons, meant to bring her wisdom and love.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Sharing
As I have mentioned before, I receive some wonderful Emails from viewers of my blog. While protecting their anonymity, I want to share just a bit.
One of the primary reasons I decided to share my whole life with the world is that I surmised there were probably kindred spirits everywhere - men who have had to cope with their female feelings and women who'd rather be fixing their cars."I was deeply moved by what you wrote and I'm greatly relieved to find I'm not the only one who feels so strongly about being able to talk about one's "real self". I feel much more hopeful about the future, Thank You."
What I have learned is that we are each of us individuals and we each have a right to live as we wish as long as we do not hurt others.
That individual was actually a genetic woman who would rather be a man. I respect her right to be herself as she respects mine to be me."I'm glad that I visited your site & I applaud you in overcoming all of the challenges that you have had to face during your lifetime Kathryn. I wish you the very best and very much happiness to you and Joy. If only everyone could accept each of us as a unique and special person in their own right without prejudice or condemnation the world would be a happier place to live. Enjoy your life, I wish you a long & wonderful one."
"I would like to commend you for doing what you are doing: being out and open and honest about who you are. The only way that we're going to progress in society and change it for the better is by being visible, and not in a negative way. We are trailing behind the women's and gay/lesbian movements but that's to be understood because we are the ugly stepchild of the alternate lifestyle/sexuality movements and there seems to be more ingrained resistance, at least in the US as I perceive it, to transgendered individuals."That person wrote a long, wonderful Email. I wish I could post it all.
And I thank you for having the courage and the integrity to share with me all that you did.
And, lastly, some comments are short but oh, so sweet:
"Hi, Kathryn. You write really well. There's a softness about it."That's just me. I have always written in what some consider a feminine way.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Kathryn today
Geographical References: Florida
While it is true that I work as a woman, it is also true that I work from home so I don't try to pass much anymore unless for special occasions.
This is what I wore to work today. (I know: Normal people would work from home in sweats or an old robe. But I think we have made it abundantly clear that I am anything but normal!)
It's just about my favorite skirt. The black top is cute and feminine. The shoes? Why, they are my favorite shoes on earth!
When Joy and I moved to Florida, I had to cut off my long, beautiful hair for my job at Merrill Lynch. When I switched jobs to a telecommuting gig, I started growing it out again. At Joy's suggestion, I got it cut in the "bob" you see here. When I have to pretend to be a man, I just slick it back with hairspray. And this is not a dye job. My hair just hasn't turned gray yet.
Although I am only about halfway through my transition from fat lady to fit lady, my hair is finally long enough that it could be styled and - although I look nearly as old as I am - for an old broad I don't look too bad. At least the "chipmunk cheeks" of the Los Angeles days are gone.
One reason I have started adding recent photos is that I am sick and tired of the old "fat Kathy" pictures and am focused on the woman I hope to be by fall when I have lost another 50 pounds.
Frankly, I have been charting new territory in the last few years and I am sharing it with you because it could be helpful to someone else out there who is longing to be a woman.
As you can see, I lost weight in my legs, my hips, my wrists and my face first. The tummy is taking its own sweet time. I did drop from a 22/24 dress to the size 16 skirt I am wearing up above. I am aiming for a size 12 by Halloween.
So, anyhow, Joy and I joined a local fitness center a few months back. (No. I wasn't Kathryn. Working out with the real Richard Simmons back in Beverly Hills taught me it's a pain in the butt to pretend to be a woman who is working out!)
When the personal trainer asked what my goals were, I said, "To lose another 50 pounds and build up my chest." (Psst: WE know that I was really talking about the muscles beneath my breasts but I certainly wouldn't want to scare the trainer, who was half my age.)
So, here's what the old broad looked like today.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Why 91%?
I took an extensive "gender identity" test earlier this year and the results?
"Kathryn, we have analyzed the test you took and we have found that you are 91% feminine. When we compare your results with other women it shows that you are more feminine than the average woman. Your test results indicate that you're Highly Feminine.
People who are highly feminine tend to be very relationship or people oriented, but may not be extremely results focused. Women who are highly feminine typically encounter strong social approval, but in some settings highly feminine women may have difficulty commanding authority or being taken seriously. Highly feminine women tend to invest their sense of self in their various relationship roles. If one of these roles is causing significant stress or difficulty, feminine women can usually draw support from other established relationships and roles to maintain a positive sense of self. Men who are highly feminine often have very strong interpersonal skills, but may encounter some social disapproval for not exhibiting enough traditionally masculine qualities. Feminine typed men also often benefit from having a variety of relationship roles in their lives just as very feminine women do, and can usually maintain a positive sense of self in the face of life difficulties or challenges."
Cool. I could have told them that.
"You tend to be focused on calm, relaxed interpersonal interactions.
When it comes to personal safety, you would run before you would defend, and you would attack only as a last resort.
You have the ability to seek help when needed.
You prefer creative interests in the direction of artistic endeavors.
You display a marked tendency to get involved in others problems.
You have a high degree of latitude for physically expressing affection to friends. Hugs or kisses are okay, but a handshake is unusual.
"Furthermore, our research shows that certain behavioral stereotypes still hold true when it comes to masculinity and femininity. In fact, when considering all of the other aspects that go into a person's gender identification, these stereotypes still stand out as indicators of femininity and masculinity.
"Highly feminine people are significantly more likely to say that they like the color pink than are people who are masculine."
I rest my case.
Each of your scores is listed below
Your masculine score was 9%
Your feminine score was 91%
©1999-2008 Tickle Inc. All rights reserved. Used with permission.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Chick Flicks
Joy and I often get into bed and watch a "chick flick" like The Group, based on a book by Mary McCarthy. It's all about women for a change, which is what I love in a movie. Lots of young women who went on to become famous - Jessica Walters, Candace Bergen, Elizabeth Hartman, and Joan Hackett - are in the 1966 Sidney Lumet film, in which it's 1933, and eight young women are friends and members of the upper- class group at a private girl's school, about to graduate and start their own lives. The film documents the years between their graduation and the beginning of the World War in Europe, and shows, in a serialized style, their romances and marriages, their searches for careers or meaning in their lives, their highs and their lows.
Even with the Thirties fashions, or perhaps because of them, Joy and I kept imagining ourselves wearing some of those dresses. We do that so often. We'll be watching TV in bed, as is our habit, and a girl will show up in a scene and we will both say, "Oh, I love that dress!" (Happened last night as we watched Rita Hayworth and Gene Kelly in "Cover Girl.")
In a way it is sad that no woman could possibly enjoy her clothing as much as I do. I doubt any woman steps into a pair of high heels and is overcome with a feeling of ecstasy. I do. Especially these new ones I got off eBay, which fit so well I can wear them without hose. I am almost certain no woman looks forward to putting on a bra or panties. I do. Because I longed to do it for so damned long.
In a dress or a skirt and blouse, I feel like I mean something, like I am special, like I am part of the most exclusive sorority in the world. I often tell Joy, "How can you keep from looking at yourself in the mirror for hours on end." She usually laughs it off. But I mean it. She is so extremely lucky to be a female. (And, in her case, so beautiful.)
One Sunday afternoon, we sat in bed all afternoon and into the evening watching movies on the Lifetime Movie Network back to back. Lifetime movies almost always feature a woman as the protagonist. I was wearing my Olga nightgown (see above) and Joy had on her favorite San Francisco 49ers football jersey/sleep shirt. We'd make microwave popcorn during the breaks and make fun of the movies, sometimes causing us to laugh so hard Diet Pepsi would come out our noses. What great fun.
That's the kind of fun I was cheated out of in high school and college because I was born a boy.
I get to experience it now, thanks to Joy.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Write Like A Woman
A fan of this blog recently copied and pasted one of my posts into the "Gender Genie" which proudly reported "The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: female!"
The Gender Genie is an online tool where you plug in some text, and then - using a complex algorithm - the Genie determines if the writer is a man or a woman. I tried it too, entering various samples of my writing and I was informed that all of these were written by a "female."
I could have told you.
I wrote three published novels back in the late 80s about a female radio talk show host. I submitted them with what I consider my "real" name, Kathryn Cleve. However, it wasn't until I resubmitted the books under a fake, male pseudonym that I was able to get published.
I realized early on that my own fiction was telling me that I could not ignore the feminine in me. I read The Norton Book of Literature by Women which taught me that I didn't have to strive to write like a man anymore, that I could write like a woman, my basic nature, and feel liberated in doing so.
I find it so sad that women writers are still being marginalized. In America, female writers are silenced by parents who think it doesn't pay to invest in a girl's education, teachers who discourage girls from having ambitions beyond motherhood, publishers who don't think it worth their while to publish books by women, and critics who are refuse to take work by women seriously.
Despite all the obstacles, an increasing number of women write and publish, often nurtured by alternative presses and magazines. Consequently, traditionalists who wish to keep women in their place have turned to more active forms of censorship.
Self-appointed censorship groups founded by Christian conservatives mount national campaigns to keep women from being published because "The Bible says a woman should be silent and subservient to her husband."
True Story: about five years ago, I wrote the editors of People magazine and asked why every picture of a female author that they had published over the previous year showed the woman in her bare feet. Every one! Even the author of a book about Abraham Lincoln! If you were a woman, the photos insinuated, you had to be portrayed as "barefoot" and by common cliché, "pregnant."
Of course, since the editor at the time was a man, there was no response at all.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Mommie dearest
Geographical References: Florida / Christmas, Florida
I must grudgingly admit that - in this photograph - I do resemble my mother with whom I have always had a strained and difficult relationship. What is ironic is that she reportedly told her sister when I was about to be born that she hoped I would be a girl. She was going to name me Faye. When faced with that wish in later years, she would deny it, especially after she realized that she had given birth to a boy who wanted to be a girl. Among the characteristics that keep me from actually being "beautiful" in the accepted way is that darned "Gable nose" with which many of us were cursed. But as an only child, I never got to see what a female version of our DNA would look like.
I guess one reason I like this photo is that my mother gave Joy that skirt for Christmas last year and it would really irritate her to know that I am now wearing it.
From the perspective I have gained after decades of mistakes, I have finally discovered how I can let femulation be part of my life without harming others. Central to this epiphany is my wonderful wife, Joy, who supports me every step of the way and who loves me for who I am, not in spite of it.
To share my reward, I am working toward becoming an advocate for femulators throughout the Tampa Bay area.
It has only been in the last few years that I began to accept my version of being me. I am a woman/man who must occasionally pose as a man. And it was a major step for me to attend a costume party earlier this year dressed as a woman without any shred of "show biz" and without the intention of "passing." (I won 1st Place!) At our church costume party, friends heaped praise on me for everything from "walking like a woman" to my "attention to detail." This summer, they will find out why I make a good woman.
Since arriving in Florida, Joy and I have become members of a most supportive church, the Unitarian Universalists, and I plan to work through our church Social Justice Committee and GLBT sub-committee to simply shed some light on ordinary heterosexual transvestites like myself. (Actually, I prefer to be called a femulator.) After all, I love women so much I wanted to be one!
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Man! I feel like a woman.
Every once in a while we manage a photo in which I look almost pretty. Joy always liked this one because she likes my eyes and because we shared earrings all the time. I do all my own make up and sometimes it turns out better than other times.
I like it because I really look like a woman here and that was my quest every single day.
I realize, to the casual observer, I probably seem like a recent émigré from Mars (or, more to the point, Venus) when I wax on about the extraordinary pleasure I feel behaving as and looking like a woman five days a week.
I guess there is no reasonable metaphor for my experience. Is it like wanting to be a professional baseball player and playing in a summer camp? Not really. No one takes you for a pro baseball player at those camps, they think of you as a wannabe.
Could it be compared to wanting to play with a symphony orchestra and finally getting the chance to do so one lovely evening in July? No. You're just a guest in their world.
"Being" a woman 24 hours a day when you are, in fact, male is a unique experience that most men would not be able to accomplish, even if they wanted to. (I know. Most men would not even want to, but that is a discussion for another time and place.) While it is not like actually being a woman, it is as close as a man can get without surgery. While I practically never forget I am male, I do feel intensely female much of the time. And that, after all, is what I was really longing for my entire life. I never thought I was a woman trapped in a man's body. I never wanted to physically become a woman. I never wanted to be a female impersonator. I simply wanted to be my own "fantasy" of what life is like for a woman. Unreal, I understand. But a thrill for me, nonetheless.
Yes. It was primarily about wearing the clothes. But it is also about being pretty and having long hair and breasts and pretty legs and wearing high heels. For me, it is about looking a little bit like the gender I have worshiped my entire life. For me, it is feeling a part of this ethereal "club" in which all women are members.
For me, when all is said and done, it is about feeling worthwhile, of value, for the first time in my entire life because - for these brief and shining hours - I AM a female.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Sweet girl
I think I look very much the real woman in this shot.
It is very important to me that I be perceived as a nice, sweet, woman with not a drop of masculinity about me. That was not as difficult as one might think because I had suppressed my feminine nature for years. But, in private, undetected, it would always come out. Sometimes, in the bad old days when I was pretending to be totally male, someone would comment on the way I put my hand on my knee or let it hang in midair while talking or the fact that I had a habit of looking into the eyes of the person talking to me, no matter if they were male or female, and actually listening to what they said. I usually shrugged it off but I alone knew that the female inside me would someday come bursting out, bringing me peace and harmony for the first time in my life. It was such a curious conundrum in which to be embroiled because even transsexuals could not understand me. They, at least, KNEW they were women trapped in male bodies. I was a man trapped in a male body and I hated it my entire life. I merely wanted to be a woman, desired femininity, ached for the opportunity to be pretty and soft and gentle. I'm sure one reason I let my male body get heavy through the years was that I hated it. I hated that I had a man's body so I didn't do anything to build muscles or trim my abs. It's as if I was crying out, "If I cannot be a woman, I will be a slob." These days, my two years living as a female full-time in L.A. years behind me, I am attending Weight Watchers with Joy and intend to lose another 45 in addition to the 55 pounds I have already lost so that I can fit into a size 14 dress for the first time in my life. For, truth be told, it was an issue of no small amount of sorrow to me that my wonderful time as a woman (2000-2002) was marred by my weight. I have small hands and feet and I looked quite feminine most of the time, but I wish I had been really beautiful. While my goal is to fit into a size 14 dress, I harbor no desire to go all out again and live as a woman. I'm just too old, too tired and too gray to be successful a second time. No. I will settle for telling the cats, "Look! Grandpa can finally wear a size 14!" to which RumTumTugger, the more erudite of the two, will sniff and say, "Big whoop!"
My Makeup
Dozens of men and even a few women have asked about the make-up which permitted me to successfully pass as a woman day or night in all sorts of situations those two years in Los Angeles.
I owe everything to the wonderful folks at DERMABLEND. Originally, I was looking for something to cover the scar on my neck, but I quickly learned that it also covered my crummy male skin perfectly. I loved that it did not look caked on and was water resistant, so I did not sweat it off. Dermablend is a little pricey but 1 ounce of their cover crème lasted me about six months and I was using it every single day.
Even the Dermablend sales person I talked to at Dillard's suggested powder to set it and I used inexpensive Cover Girl Clean, slightly lighter than the Dermablend color I was using. A clean, fresh look calls for CG's "Clean" powder. Its silky texture and good to my skin formula is a weightless, wonderful way to get a naturally beautiful look.
I used Big Lash Mascara from Maybelline because it conditions as it thickens. Its lash-doubling formula glides on smooth to build great-looking lashes, the brush makes it easy to get a full lash look without clumps or globs and it's hypoallergenic.
As for eye shadow, once again I turned to Cover Girl and their wonderful three-shade sets. Because of my big brown eyes, I usually used Shimmering Sands for daytime and Dance Party for nights.
Lipstick was always a question for me because I didn't have nice plump lips, so I would try various brands. My coloring is best with a subdued red or a pink. My blush was also Cover Girl.
I must admit, of all the female enhancements available, makeup is the best. If I could get away with it, I would wear mascara, in particular, every single day!
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Working Girl
Back in 2002, when I lived as a woman 24/7 in Los Angeles, I admit that working at the drywall company every day was a bit of a strain. I not only had to look convincingly feminine, I had to be efficient, cheerful, pleasant and deal with a half-dozen men (whom I do not like and never have).
The reason these golden years are so much less stressful is that - as a teleworker for a distant think tank - I work alone except for twice-monthly meetings at our local office. So, I can be me - a woman - without worrying so much. The only folks for whom I need to be convincing are our three cats (one of whom is a transvestite, himself), the occasional UPS, FedEx, USPS or Jehovah's Witness who knocks on my door.
It is very much like really being female except that there are no office Lotharios to hit on me, no bosses to intimidate me and no other women with whom to complete in the clothing department.
Our three cats mostly just sleep while I am working, although our 10-week old kitten, Johanna, does like to explore my desk from time to time.
One reason I have always passed as female is that I choose my wardrobe based on my age and my size. Back in L.A. that was difficult, as I wore a 22/24. Now, with my recent weight loss, I am into 18s and 16s and getting close to a size 14.
I prefer to dress in a slightly conservative manner. [See the photo above.]
It makes the statement that you can be feminine and be strong at the same time, and be age appropriate. I also have a limited color palette: black, navy blue, lavender with an occasional splash of green or red.
What I wear is part of who I am. As the French say "etre bien dans son peau," or to feel comfortable in one's own skin. Your clothes are an extra skin, and if you feel good in them, you radiate confidence and then the clothes are just the background. If you go out and wear the most beautiful thing but you don't feel good in it, you are not 100% present. You are worrying about the collar or the fit. The key thing for me is to think about what I am doing and not about my clothes.
I figured out what I felt good in, what I look good in, and what is comfortable. Wearing something that you're not comfortable in is the ultimate sin. It's important for each woman to discover her own style, and find something that is not trendy or too revealing or anything that would get in the way of working.
Loser Winning
I am really happy today, so please forgive me if I gush.
I guess I should explain a bit of what is at the root of my happiness.
For the 17 years between 1981 and 1998, I lived in a self-created bubble of fat, in order to deal with my lousy marriage and so as to be invisible as a man. (No one looks twice at a fat man.) I guess it was my way of demonstrating how much I disliked being a man.
Sadly, when I met Joy, I was still fat, so my wonderful two years as a woman in Los Angeles were tempered by the fact that I could not be as beautiful as I had dreamed of being.
Fast-forward to October 2007 when Joy said, "Let's join Weight Watchers." I surprised her by saying, "Great Idea!" And we both followed up faithfully.
Since October 1, 2007, I have lost 55 pounds (with another 50 to go, in my opinion). I am learning to have a healthy relationship with food. I am eating great-tasting food in a balanced diet low on fat and high in fiber which never leaves me still hungry. I am also now walking a mile a day, working out several days a week at Family Fitness and feeling that old familiar thing called self worth tingling up my spine and making me smile.
The combination of getting treatment for my clinical depression three years ago and finding a wonderful church two years ago that does not require a belief in God or Jesus and earning a terrific stay-at-home job that allows me to finally be a working housewife had made great changes in my life.
I am happy and fulfilled and in love with the most wonderful woman in the world who loves me for myself and accepts me completely as a woman and a man.
So, for the first time in a long time, I actually like myself. Even if I am an aging cross dresser, I am at least becoming a healthy, happy, slimmer aging cross dresser. I love myself more than I ever have in my life.
Joy and I have, for a very long time, been yard sale queens, going to yard sales every weekend. We have decorated our home totally from yard sale items and - for the past two years - we have both bought nearly all our clothes at yard sales. That's why we both now have closets stuffed with terrific skirts, tops and dresses that were very inexpensive
This past Saturday, I bought a black waist-cinching belt because the hourglass shape (or something close to it) is making a massive comeback this year. And I found a purse I love. A classic purse is a must-have item.
The biggest news in the style magazines we read (and this makes me really happy) is the rebirth of the dress! Back in style this year are romantic floaty dresses and feminine chiffon blouses, which are very ladylike but also show off the figure with fuller skirts. Fashion this year is going to be very colorful and quite girly.
The rebirth of the dress is a really exciting development for me, because I have always loved dresses and skirts.
And here's another wonderful thing about my weight loss. I have lost weight in my upper legs and thighs! I know! I can scarcely believe it! What that means is that my legs which were beautiful and shapely from my knees down are now uniformly pretty the whole way up!
Femininity is back big-time this year and I am thrilled. Not only that but guess what the three top colors are this year? The hottest colors right now are bright pink, purple or aqua blue. (Do you recognize two of those as my favorite colors?)
And, the fashion gurus say it's okay to wear heels more, which thrills me now that I have found two pair that are so comfortable I can wear them all day.
That's some of why I am so blasted happy!I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Worthwhile
Being raised by two women is one thing. Being raised by two women who had bad experiences with men before I came along and who were glad to share their stories with me ad infinitum, ad nauseam for all the years I was growing up is quite likely why I dislike men so much.
It is perhaps why, conversely, I love women so much. Mom and her sister were always having fun, dressing in pretty clothes, dancing, shopping, smiling. In short, I was conditioned to believe over time that woman = happy.
Naturally, they shielded me from the realities of their lives as females which I am sure is why my image of women is naive and shallow.
Excuses aside, I only know that being a woman for two years was the first time I ever felt special, the first time I ever felt "whole," the first time I felt I had some value as a human being.
As a man, I had attempted suicide twice in my life, I felt like a second-class citizen in nearly any situation and I considered myself a failure. I was only a man and not very damned good at it, either. I still remember how I ached after my first wife insisted I play touch football with her brothers. My second wife was routinely pointing out masculine men on television or on the street and wondering aloud, "Why aren't you more like that?"
I wanted to shout at her, "Because I am a god dammed woman!" But I did not because I am not one to argue, raise my voice or harm anyone for any reason.
As I dreamed myself to sleep night after night imagining what it would feel like to go dancing in a lovely gown or to the movies in a skirt and blouse, I cursed the situation in which I had been forced to live. I knew I was not gay because I hated men. But I was quite certain I was a freak and probably the only one on earth.
For a well-written interesting perspective on being a man or a woman, click here:
Teh Portly Dyke: Robbing the Hearts of Men
My time as a female in Los Angeles was the first time I felt like a worthwhile human being. And now that I have discovered the compromise that makes my life good, I feel worthwhile again. Getting to be a woman inside all the time and a woman on the outside five days a week is just fine for me.
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Sex And A Single Why
One question I am frequently asked when I appear on television or am interviewed for a local newspaper is about the sexual aspect of portraying a woman.
Steve Martin famously said, "If I were a woman, I would stay home all day playing with my breasts."This presents an optimum example of how unique each of us is. I know there are many transvestites who are constantly excited when dressed as a girl. Others find no sexual pleasure from it at all. I fall, predictably, somewhere in the middle.
It is absolutely true that the first time I successfully brought pleasure to myself as a child was while looking at this photo of famous female impersonator Julian Eltinge.
(He was hot only by the standards of 1913!)
I admit that the first time I looked completely like a girl (a few hours stolen at my aunt's condo in Sarasota in the 70s), I did get excited. These days, it's mostly only for the first few minutes after I get dressed. It's not that I am suppressing anything. I am both female and male and I am more excited to look at my sweet, beautiful wife, Joy, than I am to see myself as a girl.
(Besides, I am very self-critical. There are more than 80 photos of me on my Flickr account and I think I look pretty in only a handful!)
So, as I am very capable of doing, I have - you should pardon the expression - skirted the issue. But not for any grand psychological reason. Those men turned on by looking like a woman have my support and, perhaps, envy. I'm just a different breed of "Maggie the cat."
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!Confident Kathy
(To examine the montage photos, click on them: that makes them get bigger.)
For me, feeling feminine is a heady blend of feeling pretty, desirable, submissive, delicate, touchable. It is about seeing myself as someone who could be desired and cherished for my very vulnerability, much in the way I cherish my wife. It also pleases me no end to have the physical attributes and appearance of a woman. One reason I was accepted as a woman for two years in Los Angeles, even holding down a job, was because of my confidence.
I believed I was a woman and I looked like a woman so others believed it too.
There are few things more beautiful on a person than confidence. Women who wear it radiate strength, passion and conviction. It contributes more to a look than a designer label or the perfect diamond. When a woman knows who she is, why she is and what she's supposed to do, she may dress in thrift store specials, as Joy and I routinely do, and be absolutely gorgeous. A confident woman is not afraid to be herself.
If there is anything I am as a female, it is unique. I know my style. What is most important to me is to finally be myself, and "myself" is a confident woman sometimes and a man when I have to be.
Because I knew that I was valuable in Joy's eyes, I knew I could portray a real woman who was soft-spoken, gentle, compassionate, caring, yet strong and powerful in her sexuality, because I have been that way my entire life.
Back when I was a man, full time, I was always the first to put myself down. What you say about yourself, usually becomes true. As a man, I felt like a perpetual second-class citizen, ill-equipped to play the "manly" game, I felt stupid, incapable and a coward.
But the moment I stepped out onto the sidewalks of Los Angeles in a pretty skirt and blouse, carrying my purse, my high heels clicking on the pavement, that insecurity and self-hatred went away. My confidence came from my long hair, my pretty legs, my feminine face and voice, and my attitude. I was able to chat with female executives, magician's assistants, actresses and waitresses with equal calm and confidence because I completely believed I was a female and on an equal footing with all my sisters.
For decades, I had imagined myself as a woman. That's who I was for two years in L.A. That's who I am today, five days a week, all these years later, happy at last with the female part of my soul.
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To Tell The Truth
The night I was on TV.
I don't often show pictures from my national television appearance eight years ago for two reasons: 1. I was fifty pounds heavier than I am now. 2. Nearly all the shots are grainy screen grabs from the actual broadcast. (We taped the show on November 27, 2000.)
What happened was this: my gay friend Mark had a non-gay friend who was producer of the new, syndicated television show based on the old TV show called TO TELL THE TRUTH. The point of both shows was to present several people all claiming to be the same person or persons, have the panel of celebrities vote on which they think is the real person or persons and the contestants win money. The new incarnation of the show was taped at NBC's Studio 11, which was less than a mile from our apartment. Mark told his producer friend about me (but not the truth!) and I sent him a photo of me in a red top and denim skirt. A week later, he called me in, talked to me for a few minutes and hired me. (At this time, he did not know I was not a real woman. I revealed it to him the day before taping and he was thrilled. "Good television!" is what he called it.) We decided that I would reveal my secret to the other women before the taping so no one fainted but not to the host, panel or audience until the end of the show.
The taping went well. We all claimed to be the real Lynne and Louise, the current wife and ex-wife of the same man who had bonded over the care of the children. We got two votes, which means the two who voted for us not only thought we were Lynne and Louise, they also thought we were both women. (As I said, everyone but the producer and the six of us thought we WERE all real women.)
I won $1,400 for the two wrong votes and the crowd went wild when I revealed that I was a man posing as a woman. (If anyone wonders, I gave a false name on the show and the school teacher partner with me pretended to be my wife.)
Although the show aired all over the nation over the next six months, it never did air in Los Angeles so my secret was safe.
To examine the montage photos, click on them: that makes them get bigger.
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Women and Film
I have always loved films about women.
I saw Far From Heaven again recently and was elated to be back in the Fifties when fashions were so feminine and women were too.
The Group is on cable at the moment and I am sitting here lusting after the red dress that Shirley Knight is wearing. (The film came out in 1966 when Shirley was in her 20s.)
Another movie I love for the fashions is Mona Lisa Smile. And, although the fashions aren't the focus, I adore Joy Luck Club for all the fine female performances. The only reason I can abide The Dead Pool, the final Dirty Harry movie, is the terrific performance and costumes of Patricia Clarkson (who was also in Far From Heaven, by the way).
As I have said elsewhere, I always identify with the woman in any film I see and I always have. All of this was as preamble to this particular occasion back in Los Angeles when a bunch of us girls went to the Silent Movie Theater on Fairfax in the heart of Hollywood to see a wonderful 1939 movie called The Women. (Although they mostly show silents, they also show some talkies like this one.)
Built in 1942, the Silent Movie Theater is a vintage Art Deco movie house, a beloved cultural landmark and it's two blocks from Canter's Deli.
We all loved it. There are 119 women in the cast and not a single man!
The fact that Norma Shearer and Joan Crawford would consent to appear in a movie together was amazing. In 1939, Shearer was the queen of MGM, being the widow of Irving Thalberg, and had her choice of material and co-stars. Crawford didn't have Shearer's pull and complained bitterly about it. Crawford agreed to take a supporting but juicy role because she needed an A picture after a string of flops. It's one of Crawford's most memorable and villainous roles. As Crystal Allen, the scheming shop girl out to sleep her way to a Park Avenue penthouse, she was ideally cast.
Rosalind Russell surprised everyone with her rapid-fire sarcastic delivery. Roz gives the strongest performance of the film as the viciously catty Sylvia Fowler, and I don't think Shearer or Crawford knew what hit them. As for Norma Shearer, even she was able to make the difficult role of saintly Mary Haines memorable. One of her best moments is when she raises her nails and growls "I've had two years to grow claws, Mother, and they're Jungle Red!," and then goes to take back her man from Crawford. She makes the character warm and likable and we root for her to win.
There are many gems in the supporting cast, too. Most spectacular is Mary Boland as the heavy-drinking, high-living Countess De Lave.
Paulette Goddard, the most beautiful member of the cast, is excellent as the streetwise Miriam Aarons. Like Crawford, she plays a role she understands, the chorus girl who snags a millionaire. But unlike Crystal, Miriam has a heart. Goddard is great at doling out straight-shooting advice and rolling out put-downs under her breath.
Now: In post production for an October 2008 release is a remake of the classic film. The Joan Crawford role of Crystal Allen, the scheming shop girl, will be played by Eva Mendes. Debra Messing plays the Rosalind Russell part as the viciously catty Sylvia Fowler.
Meg Ryan, like Norma Shearer before her, must make saintly Mary Haines memorable.
Bette Midler plays the Mary Boland role as the heavy-drinking, high-living Countess De Lave. Jada Pinkett Smith will try to top Paulette Goddard as the streetwise Miriam Aarons.
Written and directed by Diane English of Murphy Brown fame, it might be good. We'll see. I sincerely hope so.
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About men
I don't like men. Never have. I must admit I have always been more fond of women. I've aways identified with them in movies. Agonized for them when their husbands beat them, left them or - worse -killed them. (Yeah. I'm talking to you, Scott Peterson!)
I longed to be a woman for most of my life. Personally, I find men simple, uncomplicated.."You're not too smart, are you? I like that in a man." ~ (Kathleen Turner to William Hurt in Body Heat.)
I blame them for all the wars and most of the problems in the world. I am lucky that I am old enough and straight enough to never need a man in my life for it would be an unhappy situation for both of us.
As they used to say, "What is the difference between men and government bonds?" Bonds mature.
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Thank you, all!
A special thank you to the thousands of folks who have visited my blog, some more than once, and to those select few kind enough to leave comments.
Frankly, I created this blog as a way to figure out who I was and who I was going to be; sort of a form of therapy. I am amazed and delighted at how popular it has become.
Since I came out in 2000 at the Magic Castle in Hollywood, it has been a very strange journey.
Much as I enjoyed the "two years living as a woman" stunt in Los Angeles, I realized that I was not a transsexual. I did not think I WAS a woman. I simply wanted to BE a woman, on my own terms and for my own personal reasons. Because I love women.
However, and here is my fatal flaw, I wanted to be MY VISION of a woman which is terribly skewed by my adoration for women.
The major change for me this year is that I joined our church's GLBT committee and ultimately want become a spokesperson (spokesman? spokeswoman? spokesmodel?) for femulators in the Tampa Bay Area. On speaking engagements and such, of course, I will present as femme as I can. What is so freeing about my "coming out," so to speak, at church is that I don't have to keep secrets. (One of the things that bound Joy and I together from the start was that we agreed to be totally honest with one another.)
Admitting who and what I am has made my life happier and less stressful.
I am not the young woman I wanted to be. I am not stunningly beautiful, but I have enough self-confidence in myself to realize that I am occasionally nice looking; and on a good day, I have even been described as being "pretty."
I am also a realist. I am an "older woman" without benefit of having been a middle-aged woman, a young woman or even a teenage girl.
I've still got some years left (since I lost 50 pounds and continue to lose) and I can try to be as pretty and feminine as possible but I will never have that perfect combination of youth and beauty. It is sobering and it is the truth but I can face it, so fulfilled am I being the kind of female I have always longed to be.
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91% Female
I enjoy being a woman on workdays more than any real woman could possibly imagine. I revel in it, the pure joy and wonder of being a woman. I had to pretend to be a regular guy for most of my life and I hated it.
It was my dear wife, Joy, who helped me to see myself as more than a man who likes to wear skirts and blouses. Learning to know my dear Joy over these last ten years has been fascinating to me. I had never met a woman so wise, interesting, well-traveled and yet adorable. We've had countless conversations about everything from Arabian food to Zoology. (Joy's perfect job, she says, would be to pet animals all day long.) As we grew closer, she became my friend, my confidante, my world. Even in those days, when I first told her about my desire to be a woman sometimes, we laughed and talked about everything. But, I was trying to find my place in the world.
Living as a woman for two years in Los Angeles was an adventure but it taught me that I did not want to put forth the effort required to pass as female every single day.
My ultimate decision to admit that I am a man and a woman and to work for transgender rights came after many tears, long lonely nights, writing words no one will ever read, and looking inside myself. It was Joy, in her infinite wisdom, who finally helped me realize who I am. I am a unique human being, with a few talents and at least as many flaws, but I am kind, loving, understanding, faithful, loyal and open-minded and sensitive. Like the online test I took revealed, I am 91% woman and 9% man. What's more: I am fine with that. I am proud of who I am. I have few regrets, but mostly they are tied up with the lies I had to tell during those long years I was trying to fit in to society, impersonating a man. Trying to live like an ordinary man was painful and frightening. Never let a man see me vulnerable or sensitive. Never let even so much as a sliver of light into the female part of myself. To do so was certain downfall.
It has taken all this time for me to realize that no one cares whether I am male, female or a unicorn. By and large, people think mostly about themselves. If I could only turn back the clock I would have walked into the draft board and explained, "I can't go to Vietnam because I am a crossdresser." Instead, I tried to "man up" and nearly died in boot camp.
Sadly, I learned not to show my vulnerability, and in doing so I learned not to trust. I entered each relationship, planning how I would move on when it ended. That's no one's fault, it simply is the truth. Part of loving is opening myself to the woman with whom I am in love. It's not being afraid to let her see the soft side of me. It's about trusting her to that inner part of me and knowing I am safe.
I will embrace the lessons life has taught me. I will learn from past mistakes. Life has made me a stronger woman emotionally and a wiser man. I am a man not afraid to show that I am also a woman. I am Kathryn, a pleasant and loving 91% female.
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A TV guide?
First, let me make this perfectly clear: This is only my personal opinion. I do not intend to cast aspersions on anyone or anything.
Back in the late Sixties when I first tried to find out if there were other weird boys like me in the world, information about what I call femulation was hard to find. (To this day, I remember that the library card catalog drawer that ended in "Transvaal" was the one where transvestites were mentioned, although there were seldom any books in that category.) In the mid-Seventies, I happened on a magazine called Tapestry and discovered that there were thousands of me just like me and many of them liked to send in pictures of themselves as women.
You would think, now that the Internet is ubiquitous and Google is our friend, that good, solid information on crossdressing would be a cinch to find. Sadly, this is very nearly not the case at all.
An honest search for information about men who need to wear women's clothing, even with Google's SafeSearch engaged, leads to around 60,000 websites, the vast majority of which are either sites where retailers sell extremely high-priced specialty items for crossdressers, places to meet and date "trannies" (which, by the way means they are not heterosexual femulators like me and millions of other men) or scams on how to talk like a woman, walk like a woman or eat dinner like a woman.
For those of my viewers who are only now realizing their proclivity for femulation let me make a few things clear:
1. You do NOT need to spend $150 for a woman's dress that will fit you unless you are HUGE. Even in Lane Bryant, sizes go up to 32 and prices are way below the specialty stores.
2. The day I pay $400 for fake breasts (and these are only the kind you put in a bra, not the ones you put in your chest) is the day I become America's first Flat-Chested Femulator. There are literally dozens of other options for fake breasts.
3. Don't waste $200 on women's size 13 high heels with five-inch heels unless you want to make fun of females. There are hundreds of ordinary shoe stores that sell large women's shoes because - genetically - women have larger feet than they did fifty years ago.
4. Consider yard sales and thrift shops. Terrific clothes actually worn by real women and available for dollars. (I am still gloating about the $200 retail navy blue Michael Kors evening dress [see photo above] I got for $3.00.)
5. Also haunt yard sales and garage sales for make-up, nail polish, perfume, moisturizing creme, shampoo and earrings. Believe me, you will never again pay $7.00 for lipstick after you've bought an entire makeup kit with just a few missing eye shadows for $1.00!
What I am getting at is this: If getting tattoos was socially unacceptable, you can bet there would be tattoo parlors all over the country charging huge prices because they know their customers don't want to be identified. It is thus with femulators. Most of us are not as vocal about who we are as I am. Retailers, scam artists and ripoffs know we are mostly in a Secret Society and they know those of us who haven't discovered the less expensive route are going to pay through the nose for something we don't want others to know we are buying.
When I decided that I wanted to be a woman in public for a while and a woman in private sometimes, I did what a woman would do: buy stuff at regular women's stores, yard sales, garage sales and rummage sales. Believe me, the people selling me three skirts and two blouses at a yard sale do not care one little bit whether I am going to wear them or give them to my wife.
Relax, my friends, there are much worse things in this world than wanting to emulate women.
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Sharon Stone
Geographical References: California
Joy and I went to see Jack Hanson perform at the Magic Castle in Hollywood, California one night in 2001. Something exciting happened on this night, and it was not a planned act of stage illusion.
The Magic Castle is a Victorian mansion and private club that houses the Academy of Magical Arts, where top notch stage magicians and illusionists perform. The mansion has three stories and a basement, with almost every inch of it is either decorated with memorabilia, or rigged to amuse and amaze club members and their guests. There are portrait paintings with eyes that follow you, a telephone booth where a skeleton appears in the glass, a table where your drinks revolve, and a piano played by a fake ghost named Irma.
The point about the Magic Castle is, the place is geared toward creating illusion, which is why I was so surprised by what happened to me after dinner.
Joy, Jack and I had dinner at the Magic Castle before Jack's show. Jack had arranged for us to get VIP seating, which meant we needed to be in front of the Parlor stage door at a certain time. Since it was a good idea to use the restroom facilities beforehand, we timed ourselves with that in mind. Jack had already left to prepare for his show, when Joy and I left the dining room. The ladies restroom was at the bottom of the staircase on the same floor as the Parlor. Joy and I entered the small ladies room, which was only big enough for two stalls and two side-by-side sinks. There was no room for furniture, and only one narrow door in and out. The walls and stalls were covered with a collage of old time magazine ads. When we entered the ladies room and saw that both stalls were empty, we went in each to her own. Joy left first and said she would be right outside. I replied that I was right behind her. I heard Joy leave.
Moments after Joy left, I exited the stall and made a left turn for the sink to wash my hands. That's when I nearly collided with a beautiful woman. I hadn't heard her enter. She smiled, said hello and I realized at once that I was standing in a Magic Castle ladies room smiling at Sharon Stone. Really. The Sharon Stone. "I love your dress," she said. All I can remember stammering was, "Thank you."
I opened the ladies room door to leave. Joy quickly approached me, pulled me over by the photograph of Houdini on the wall, and said with some excitement "Did you see who that was? Your favorite actress in the entire world!"
I smiled and said, "I sure did. If I wasn't a woman..." I let it hang in midair as we both laughed at the irony of the situation. I have loved Sharon Stone for decades and when I finally get to meet her, I am also a woman. What a life!
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Questions and answers
Last week, I spoke - as Kathryn - at a Human Sexuality class at Saint Petersburg College and I was amazed at the affirmative reception. Naturally, as is true of all my speeches, I opened the floor for questions afterwards. I thought I'd share them with you, along with my answers:
* When did you start crossdressing?
When I was 11 years old.
* What made you want to dress that way or become another gender?
I was convinced, as a child, that women were better, happier, nicer, pretty and lucky to be female. I wanted to feel like that so I wanted to be female. Remember, this was a superficial, fantasy type of femininity, probably most like a 1950s mother. (Duh.)
* When did you start feeling as though you were more in tune with the opposite gender?
When I was six. I remember being told to play with GI Joe and crying because I wanted to play with Barbie. I remember a "dress-up day" at elementary school. I wore a dress.
* Do you have children and do they know about your crossdressing?
Perhaps because of my upbringing and how screwed up I had become by Christian standards, I managed to live through three marriages and am now in my fourth and final one, without ever getting anyone pregnant. So, no, I have no children. Joy has a 30-year old son and a 27-year old daughter but neither of them knows about my crossdressing.
* How can you be married and heterosexual if you like to dress as a female?
I guess the best way to describe it is that I am a "male lesbian." In other words, I love women, I love one particular woman the most, and I want to be a woman, at least some of the time.
* Why do you feel you need to dress as a woman when God made you as a man?
I don't want to get into a religious discussion here but basically I am an Atheist so I do not believe God made me anything. In fact, I don't believe God exists. Now, it is true that for many years I tried to be a Christian and, frankly, that led to most of the sorrow and disappointment in my life. If dressing in the clothing of the opposite gender is a sin, then God had better get angry at the millions of women who wear men's clothing.
* What is the most interesting part of being a woman?
Wow. I could write a book about that. In fact, I am writing a book about it. What I love about being a woman (remember: I use that term at its most shallow. Naturally, until I have a vagina, a period and have to put up with a stupid man, I can not actually BE a woman.)
What I love about being a woman to extent that I am is the softness, sweetness and - it must be said - attempting to be pretty. Joy finds it hilarious that I choose to wear high heels to work. She hates them. (But she is still the most feminine woman I know.) I adore wearing a bra because it is unique to the female. It's the same reason most femulators want to have their picture taken in a wedding dress, the most feminine outfit ever.
I love the little rituals: shaving my legs, moisturizing, maintaining my nails, doing my hair...and makeup.
I love sitting at my desk in a pretty skirt and a matching blouse... I could go on and on... And I do on my blog, Longing to be a Woman. (At this point I gave everyone the URL.)
* Have you lost any friend over your decision?
Only my mother. She thinks it is sinful that I like to be a woman.
* What did your family think at first?
Never met my father. My mother was convinced I was gay. Why else would I want to be a girl? Eventually, she came around to accepting that I am straight but she still thinks it is a sin.
* Do you lead two different lives because of it?
For 40 years, I did. I had to pretend to be a man, something at which I was remarkably unsuccessful, while dreaming of being a woman. On occasion, and never enough times or lengths of time, I got the chance to dress to various degrees. But, it was not until after my tenure with the U.S. Navy that I finally got the courage to go out and buy my own women's clothes and shoes. In fact, it is funny and pathetic that the first thing I would do on those occasions that a girl broke up with me or that I got divorced was buy women's clothes and dress up as much as possible.
* How often do you crossdress?
I am a woman Monday through Friday, 24 hours a day. I am a telecommuting researcher for a Denver think tank.
On weekends, I pretend to be a nearly typical male and have a wonderful time with Joy, my lovely wife.
No one spat at me, booed or called me any names. That's why I accept invitations to speak at colleges and adult groups and refuse to speak to high school kids.
I'd love to hear from you! Email me!
Special Thanks to Google for their wonderful mapping api.