[SIZE="2"]Let me translate - “for sexual purposes,” means for specific individuals, namely homosexual males, apparently an abhorrent notion to some MtF crossdressers around here. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve seen (and heard) it all before – two years ago, to be exact, and several times since then. Rather than respond to the above-quoted text directly, I thought I would construct another lengthy essay about this stubborn, obstinate, and disappointing perception people have about TV’s. I know that when the term “transvestite” homes into view, those who have made up their minds long ago will take aim and let loose a fusillade of homophobic rhetoric couched in ignorance. The fact that it even creeps into THIS oasis of support and sympathy is downright alarming, but, rather than get upset about things that will NEVER change, I thought I would tell you all a story, actually a confession of sorts...Originally Posted by sissystephanie
Not too long ago, I was involved in a love triangle. Yep, little Freddy was the lover of a married woman. I met her in art school, and we often went around together, but never dated. Frustrated with my lack of interest (there were other females around at the time distracting me), my female friend married her other “default” boyfriend, someone she had known since childhood. I was at the wedding. After that, we (obviously) drifted apart as friends, and I didn’t see her for many years, but, after getting a Christmas card from her one December, I decided to visit my former female friend at her home. Her marriage was faltering, due to several factors I will not divulge, and I happened to re-enter her life at a critical moment. The relationship we never had blossomed out of nothing, and the affair began...
This was during the time that my crossdressing (or transvestism, to be more accurate) really began to take off, and the next few years became my “golden” period as a TV. My married girlfriend did not wear feminine clothes to any great extent; in fact years of marriage had turned her into a female version of her husband. I dressed to compensate, but I must say I didn’t think about that at the time. We were “together” as often as possible for nine years, but by the end the heat had gone out of our relationship. She eventually managed to separate from her husband, and got an apartment in another town – I visited her there, and briefly our relationship grew bright again. At the time I was caring for my aging (and ill) father, so I was very much tied to place, constrained, yet wondering about the future. What was going to happen?
Shortly before my father passed away, my love “partner,” for lack of a better description, disclosed that she had met another man at her apartment complex, and there was a new love triangle going on under MY nose. I was shocked, but, in the wake of my father’s death, all sorts of things were on my mind, and I submissively remained her friend. This woman finally divorced her husband (he found out about the other other man), and then our nine-year relationship also capsized and sank. She then told her ex-husband about ME, and I had an interesting conversation on the phone with him one night (he called me). Yes, it’s pretty shocking for a man to find out that he’s been a cuckold for nine years, and I felt guilty for ever getting involved in such a mess, but I did it because I loved the woman. I thought it COULD work, but it didn’t. I’m sorry I tried...
A month went by, and I got another call from my ex-lover’s ex-husband. Apparently she had just told him (out of spite) that I was a transvestite! I told her my most precious secret many years before – she was someone I could trust (I thought), so I told ALL. She kept telling me I was her “soul mate,” and I reciprocated, so why keep things to myself? Well, this innocent attitude came back to haunt me in no uncertain terms. The ex-husband was outraged that his ex had been with a transvestite; in fact he was much more upset about THAT than he was about being duped. He demanded a head-to-head meeting to discuss the issue, and I acquiesced – I really wanted to talk to someone, ANYONE, since all of the secrecy was now out in the open. I went to see him that very afternoon, and we talked for hours in the little TB porch that projected from the second floor of his house (THEIR house)...
We talked a little about the love triangle and its repercussions, but, loosened my alcohol, he mainly wanted to “discuss” the fact that I was a transvestite. I did not dispute my ex-lover’s claim, nor did I betray my own convictions. It was an odd scene – I don’t drink (anything), but on this occasion I drank as much as the other guy, simply to keep the conversation flowing. This constitutes my one and only time that I have talked about crossdressing with another man face-to-face, a homophobic, highly-polarized, opinionated, black-or-white kind of male, at that. I think the adrenaline coursing through my system deflected the effects of the alcohol, because I was lucid and in control of myself at all times. The drunken man directly across from me called me a “fag” repeatedly, even though he knew I had been the lover of his ex-wife (a woman). It didn’t matter. Since I WAS a transvestite, I HAD to be a “fag,” a homosexual, a queer, or whatever...
I assured the gentleman that I was most assuredly NOT a “fag,” but he wasn’t listening. He called me a “stinking” transvestite, but I assured him I was clean as a whistle. “I never liked you,” he said, “And now I know why – you’re a God-damned FAG!” BTW, my ex-lover also disclosed (to her ex-husband) that I had taken many artistic (trust me) nude photos of her during our relationship – he demanded that I show them to him, but I refused. I was thinking later that this might have provided evidence to countermand his claim that I was somehow homosexual – would a homosexual male want to take nude photos of his female lover? Hilarious, but it didn’t matter – I was a “fag,” since I was a transvestite, case closed. My drinking “buddy” even pictured in his mind how I might dress-up, based on his own perverse desires. He said, “I can see you in a bra and panties, with bright red lips, wearing high heels.” I suppressed a laugh, and then told him that I dress conservatively, going on to add that he would probably not be attracted to me...
“What do you mean?” he asked, and I told him that, since all transvestites (to him) are “fags,” and it follows I must be dressing to attract males, my style would not please HIM one little bit. He backed off after that – I think he scared himself. I began to understand just how stubborn the male mind can be, especially when it is marinated in ignorance – since my male “friend” had no point of reference for transvestism, other than what he had seen on TV (drag), heard from his peers, or had been implanted in his mind from day one in a homophobic “normal” household, he could not fathom how I could somehow be heterosexual, at least in regards to his ex-wife’s extramarital adventuring. It was sad and disappointing, yet revelatory and somewhat amusing, all at the same time. I felt sorry for him – he seemed very confused when we parted company later that evening...
I base a lot of my information regarding the unfair perceptions or connotations about crossdressing on memorable incidents like this, so I get rather “miffed” when someone (who should know better) passes along the misguided idea that all transvestites are engaged in same-sex attraction. Perhaps that is one definition that, at one time, was somewhat accurate, but a lot of water has passed under the bridge since then, and I feel we can safely dispense with such outmoded and disused concepts here in the 21st century. I believe I may have latent homosexual tendencies, and a bi-curious nature, but my own brand of transvestism was borne of my admiration for females and feminine characteristics. Not all women are the same (as I’ve learned the hard way), but I have tried to emulate those very human attributes that I find most often residing in the hearts, minds, and souls of females. Actually wearing female clothing, and feeling a difference that is always difficult to describe to non-believers, was the inevitable outcome of my effeminate, less-than-male persona...
Although my ex-girlfriend cheated on her husband, and then me, I learned a lot by being with her. Long after the crap hit the fan, and all the males in her life found out about each other, she called me up and reminisced tearfully about the happy times we shared – this was when I was living alone out here in Kansas, and she and I were both crying on the phone. I visited her a few years later, driving all the way back to Massachusetts for this long-delayed reunion. We had a wonderful time together, but she still did not want to talk about my crossdressing, turning away repeatedly when I tried to bring up the subject. Like all “normal” people, I think she also assumes that transvestites must be gay, or perverse – I played the role of MALE for her during our reunion, and nothing more was said about my curious “hobby.” Since then, I don my “gay” apparel in private, and you can call me GAY all you want, since I know I cannot change ossified opinions with words alone. Honestly, it doesn’t MATTER. Needless to say, being part of a adulterous love triangle is something I’m not proud of, and I’m still recuperating from this shattering experience. I’m pleased to report that all of the participants are alive and well, at least outwardly...
I wish to thank sissystephanie for the providing the post I quoted – I didn’t know how I was going to begin this piece, until I saw it (again, for the umpteenth time). I also wish to assure all homophobic individuals on this site that I do not wish to have “sexual relations” or “sexual purposes” with anyone who has a closed mind. You can rest easy, safe and secure in your own ignorance. You’re welcome...
Tell me, my finely dressed MtF crossdresser friends – don’t you think there’s room for more than one definition of TRANSVESTITE, other than the archaic one everybody* seems to fall back on? Thanks for reading...
*Let’s call them Americans...[/SIZE]
