Hi, Everybody!

It was a year ago today that I joined this forum. In that time I know I’ve had a lot to say. Partly it’s because when I first came here, somebody told me that the person who starts the most threads in one year gets some kind of award. I haven’t seen anything of that particular member since, though, so I suppose she was having me on.

But it’s partly been your fault, too. This forum has given me a lot to think about, and it’s certainly set me on a road to discovery. When I joined this forum, I was pretty much nowhere, still deep in the closet and only tentatively coming out of a life-long bout of denial. The first thing I felt when I got here was envy. I saw so many people doing stuff I’d never even thought about doing, stuff I didn’t even know could be done.

Back in the old days I was hardly a committed T-girl. I’d generally make a half-hearted effort to make myself look ridiculous, and in that I always succeeded gloriously. These days things are quite different. A good friend of mine is always worried about me getting lost in the pink fog. Maybe I am. If so, it’s a been a whole year in the pink fog, and I certainly don’t regret it because it’s far and away better than the drab, grey fog I used to be living in.

Recently I ordered the complete DVD edition of the TV series from the 60s, “The Prisoner”. Whoever remembers that show is old, I mean really old, just like me. And they’ll know, too, that that show could only have been done in the 60’s. You could get away with just about anything in that decade. In any case, I celebrated my anniversary today by watching the final episode, the one in which poor Number Six finally escapes. I thought that was appropriate for the day.

Yesterday afternoon I watched “Remains of the Day”, and that film really hit home in a way. Anthony Hopkins’ character, poor man, was so repressed it was like he was living in Plato’s cave, except that somebody had turned off the lights. He never felt a thing, perhaps didn’t even know that things could be felt. That’s how repressed he was. And I think that’s how repressed I was.

Because I think I’m beginning to understand some things—not just intellectually. That sort of understanding doesn’t always mean much. No, I’m beginning to understand some things emotionally. E.g., just a few days ago one member of this forum referred to me as a “transwoman”. A year ago, that wouldn’t have meant anything to me. It was just a concept. I might not have even agreed that that was what I was. Now the word means something to me. It has a feel to it. I’m beginning to understand what a transwoman is and why I might be one.

I was contemplating getting out of the closet for quite some time before I actually did it. One thing that held me back was the seeming preposterousness of the idea. I was telling myself, “That’s crazy! You’re crazy if you think you can go walking around this town dressed as a woman!” Even after I was doing it for a couple of weeks, it still seemed crazy. I was constantly laughing. I couldn’t believe what I was doing.

Now—I’m asking myself, Why shouldn’t I be doing it? Why shouldn’t I show myself and others what I am? My feelings have evolved amazingly fast. Nowadays if someone were to tell me I shouldn’t be dressing the way I am, I’d still have that useless intellectual understanding of what they were saying. “Yes, yes, I know what you mean.” Emotionally I’m past the point where I can understand it. What I’m doing these days seems so natural, it seems like me. Emotionally I’d be puzzled if someone told me that what I’m doing is wrong.

Repression is an amazing thing. You can’t begin discovering what you’ve repressed until you discover that you are repressed. What else do I have left to discover? Don’t worry about it. Just take it one step at a time. So far the road has been bright and sunny. Right now I think I can spy a little cloud on the horizon. Don’t worry about it. Just take it one step at a time.

So there it is. What else can you say? “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” I think Bob Dylan said that.

Best wishes, Annabelle

P.S. I made an awful mess of my lipstick today. Tried several times and could not get it right. What an embarrassment! I hope there’s not some kind of award for that.