My name is Jon Huckaby. I live in San Diego California. This is my first post on this site. I just joined today. I grew up in Fremont Nebraska. I'm the son of two right winged, conservative Marines who love me more than anything. I played football as a free safety for 10 years. I recently graduated from San Diego State University with a Bachelors in Theatre Arts. Since graduation I have continued to viciously perused my career as a stage manager. I have been with the same girl for the last seven years now and I play guitar in a kick ass band. Oh yeah, I love cross dressing.
If im gonna go with labels to describe myself, I will say this:
I am a transgender person who was happily born as a male and at the same time embraces the femininity within my being by choosing to dress in accordance with those feelings by wearing the clothes that make me the most comfortable.
Whew! You have no idea how hard that was to piece together the words to write that. I think I have spent the last 21 years figuring out how to say that. Anyway, I don't really believe in labels, but even then, I myself have been trying to find my own label, my own culture, my own demographic that I fit into. And even still, with this extremely specific and descriptive summary of my gender identity I still don't think I fit into any particular group. But that's okay.
I'd like to now tell you about myself so hopefully if there is someone out there like me, they can know they're not alone.
At 4 years old I started dressing up. My moms clothes. She was in the Navy. First a Marine. Then the Navy. I remember she would be gone so long. Sometimes 6 months at a time. I wore her clothes because it felt like she was with me.
At 7 years old my mom caught me wearing her clothes. She thought it was cute, she laughed and left me alone. Even then, at that young of an age, somehow I knew that what I was doing was "wrong". I didn't dress up for a very long time.
Im 15 now. My sister takes me shopping. It's my birthday. She's a young punk rocker kid and I'm a dorky football kid who's just now getting into theatre. She buys me a pair of skin tight jeans. I really like them. A lot... they remind me of something. It takes me weeks to remember until one day I do finally remember. My moms bedroom. 4 years old. Her panty hose. I get more skinny pants. My football friends don't mind. They think its cool.
Im 16. Im in my first play. Im asked to wear make-up. Never done that before. "Only fags wear make-up" I said. But I really loved this play and I'd do what ever they asked. A boy who was in the play (he happened to be gay) taught me how to do my make-up. He was really good at it. I thought it felt weird. But it reminded me of being a kid and smelling my moms make-up at her vanity. I started wearing a little make-up to school everyday. Told everyone it was for the play.
I'm 17. My final project is coming up for senior year. I'm supposed to wear a suit. My dad... Ah, I love my dad. He takes me shopping for a suit. He buys me a pair old PFC's. "PFC" is a racist term from back east. My dad's from Philly, and out there they call high heeled, pointed toe, black leather mens dress shoes "PFC's" which stands for "Puerto Rican Fence Climbers". I loved those shoes. If I closed my eyes when I walked, they sounded like high heeled shoes.
I'm 18. I get a job at a hair salon selling hair products. Out of the 15 companies I applied for, they were the only ones who called me back and I only got the job because I had a well kept pompadour at the time. Well, I save up all my money to buy only 1 thing. A tattoo. (Not my first tattoo, but the one I've always wanted, since I was about 5 or 6) A woman in a red corset and fishnets with black motorcycle boots smoking a cigarette and looking so strong and so modest and so out of this world she could never be real. She is an enigma of femininity. It wasn't until 19 that I realized she was my inspiration. And in a way, she was me...
I'm still 18. I'm really finding myself in my tight jeans and clicky PFC's and my lady on my arm everywhere I go. I also started to grow my hair out longer and it bgan to touch my shoulders. I was feeling something different. Different but very good. For the first time ever, I felt really good about myself. I meet a girl in my dance class. She is the nicest and coolest person I've ever met. We start dating the summer after I graduate high school. I discover sex with her. I loose my virginity with her while listening to The Velvet Underrgrounds "Heroin" and it is the most beautiful thing. One day, I go out and surprise her. I buy her a pair or red fishnets. I bring them home to her. She feels uncomfortable wearing them. She says, "you just want me to look like a ****!" I try to explain. She doesn't understand. She asks me to take her home. I'm hard as a rock. I go back home and without thinking about it I put onn the fishnets and angrily masturbate.
I'm still 18. After the red fishnet inscident. I go nuts. I start taking her clothes and buying others from womens clothing stores. I also started smoking weed this year for the first time. I discovered Marc Bolan (from T. Rex. a great musician). My friend who was also my drummer in my band at the time decided to hang himself one day. This year really changed me. No I'm getting high and writing poetry and music and dressing up like a girl alone in my room every single night.
I'm 19. It's my birthday. I want to go bowling. But dressed as a girl. "It'll be funny!" I said. After bowling that night, I told my girlfriend that I like dressing like this. Then I tell her everything. About being 4 and missing mom. About my tight pants days, my PFC's, my tattoo, how I feel so feminine but still feel like a man at the same time. She supports it. Takes me shopping even. Teaches me how to do my make-up. God I love her.
Between 19 and 22 I explored this very real and very exciting part of myself in college. I decided, through research online and reading several forums (much like this one) that there weren't a lot of "straight" guys openly dressing like women out there. So I decided to be a representative of the cross dressing community at my college. I went to school in a dress of some sort almost every day.
I started writing music at 19 and performing every weekend at clubs and coffee shops dressed as a woman every show.
I had the honor of stage managing a show about a straight man who is a cross dresser called "The Red Address". That show really allowed me to come out as a cross dresser with my friends and colleagues at school.
My theatre friends and I write our own sketch comedy show. I lip sync "Life's a Gas" by T. Rex and received nothing but love for something I put so much time and effort into. I never felt so proud.
I finally tell my parents that this is who I am. They are so loving and supporting of me. Who'd of thought. Two trained killers, two bad ass republican red meat eating Marines, loving their cross dressing son. They did and they still do.
My mom tells her dad about my secret. One day I get a call from the man. My Grandpa is a Cherokee Indian who grew up on a reservation most of his life. He tells me he's proud of me. He also says he's not surprised that I dress up like a girl. He says as far back as he can remember there have been relatives on my Cherokee side of the family who were either cross dressers, gay, bisexual or hermaphrodites. All of which were excellent leaders, artistic and genuinely strong and kind people. He told me that I "am a continuum of my Cherokee culture and I should be proud of who I am because my transgender qualities are what make me so blessed". He said that if I was alive 400 years ago, I would have been the leader of my tribe. That the majority of our ancestors leaders possessed the qualities of both sexes because they were blessed by the great spirit.
To think It took me till I was almost 20 years old until I learned that that my confusing feelings about my gender are nothing new. So much so that they actually fall into line with my genetic relationship with the family I never met who were just like me. I never forgot that phone call with my grandpa and not a day goes by that I don't feel proud of who I am because of my lineage as a transgender person.
Feeling very confident and supported in my personal and creative, I decided to apply for a job at Lips. They asked me if I wanted to do a "So you think you can drag" contest. I prepared for weeks. I wore green and peacock feathers all over my body. I sang "Twisted" by Annie Ross. I got second place. The only judge that didn't give me a 10 was a judge who gave me a 2. Upon questioning by my rugby playing firend as to WHY he only gave me a 2 when all the other judges gave me 10's, he replied, "Because your straight friend doesn't belong here." I felt misunderstood and hurt. I cried that night. I have not been back to Lips since.
I was laughed at by a girl and her gay friend in front of a bar one night because I told them I didn't want to hook up because Im in a relationship. When they asked "With who, what's he look like" and I replied "Her name is Colleen and she has blonde hair..." thay laughed at me like I was pretending to enjoy my outfit. I cried that night.
When I turned 21, I went to the only bar on my college campus "Loui's". I stood in line while three DIFFERENT groups of people threw French fries and onion rings at me. They took pictures of me, and they all called me a faggot. I cried that night. Something about dressing up and having a birthday...
I went to the SRO which is a drag bar in San Diego one time (it was my first time going there) and I went into the alley for a smoke. A man followed me. Tried talking to me for a few minutes. Was nice at first. Then he shoved me up against the dumpster, put his hand around my throat and the other on my groin and said, "Ya I'd **** you". I hit him and ran away as fast as I could. I didn't dress up in public for the next two years...
Im 24 (this was a few months ago). I finally tell my boss that I like to dress up like a girl. She knew, she asked and finally I told her what was up. As part of my final project for my internship at the theatre I'm working at, I need to make something out of a pattern with a sewing machine. You guessed it, I wanted to make a dress. So eventually she asks me why. Why I like to dress up like a girl. I tell her everything and she says that I need to keep it to myself. That if I ever come to work in a dress, that my chances of getting re-hired are very slim. I go crazy. I decide to start dressing up full time again. Not at work but after work. Every night. This only goes on for about a week until...
Im out with my good friend Joe. We're getting beers at the beach together when a group of people ask if they can sit with us. They're very nice and eventually they all get up for a refill. All except one. A girl. She was the loudest of the bunch. She talks to me and Joe for a while and eventually says "SO what are you guys, a couple of fags or somethin'?" Joe gets upset. He's known me for a long time. We're very good friends. He calls her a "****" and asks her to leave our table. When her boyfriend comes back she's screaming at me and Joe. He boyfriend tries to fight my friend, so I pull him out of the bar. We go somewhere else. I start to cry. Joe decides, "**** it, I'm gonna do what you do and document it. It's bullshit that people like you aren't understood and mistreated" Joe decided (literally 4 weeks ago) to dress like a woman everyday for 6 months and document his journey. He started his own website "beardandsequins" and he's making real headway for the cause. At least I think he is.
Bruce Jenner has an interview on 20/20 the day after Joe and I had our night together. "**** Bruce Jenner" I said. My girlfriend makes me watch it... I never felt so inspired. I went to Vons that night to buy groceries with red high heels on.
Now I'm here. Writing this. I want to continue wearing the things I wear. I'm very lucky to have my girlfriend and my friends and family who support me to no end. I want to tell my boss that I'm going to never stop being myself and that everyone at my theatre is going to have to deal with it. I hope things go well for my friend Joe. I feel so inspired that people like him are in the world fighting for all the people like me. It makes me want to stand up for myself more. And I have been. I guess all I can say is I don't understand labels but if people want to classify themselves then I can classify myself as someone who doesn't fit in with societies overall understanding of gender. I am someone who never feels fully accepted, no matter how many of my friends and family are there to back me up I still feel like I' on the outside. But I'm gonna keep trying to be myself and not let it all affect me. What hurts me the most is when people think I'm a joke. I don't know why anyone in their right mind would ever joke about cross dressing. They'd have to be the most masochistic people in the world to think it would be "fun" to dress up in the clothing of the opposite sex. At the end of the day, I think it doesn't matter what branch of the Transgender tree we are because, ultimately, it takes courage and determination to go out in non-gender-conforming attire. It takes balls and a heart made of steel.
I thank you for reading my crazy long and seemingly meaningless rambling life story. But I want all of you to know that I love you all and support what ever it is that your doing with your lives. As long as you love yourself you can do no wrong...
<3 Jon
Originally Posted by Jon Huckaby
But thank you for sharing so much about yourself and your fascinating ancestry - really intriguing.. 
