A long time ago, I happened upon a small book by C. S. Lewis (of Narnia fame) called Mere Christianity. I read it through. It was perhaps the clearest and most consistent description of Christianity that had come across. And I realized:

I'm glad I read it, because it helped me one step further on my journey of learning my own spirituality.

Today, I looked at Pamela's story Crossdresser Heaven. It's an interesting story, but it kind of made me realize:

IMHO, it's fine to be a crossdresser. But I'm not one.

I'm sure there are a lot of people here who might consider the place the story describes to be heaven. But not me. If I were in that "heaven," I think I'd say "shoot me now." To me a bra -- or panties, or pantyhose, or a dress -- are just clothes. I wear them because they in some way I can't explain express who I am inside. They make me feel like I'm not hiding myself any more.[*]

A number of years back, well before it even occurred to me that I might be trans, I bought some nylon panties. Nothing fancy, nothing you'd find in a Victoria's Secret shop, just plain ones from a local "drug store," as we call it here in the USA (a place that has make-up, shampoos and hair coloring, toothpaste and toothbrushes, etc. Is Bootes the UK equivalent?) Anyway, I assumed wearing them would feel sexy, maybe even arousing -- after all, isn't that the normal male reaction to female underwear?

Instead, it just felt normal.

Later, when I got into wearing skirts (there's a whole community of "men in skirts" people), the main thing I noticed (aside from the joy of twirling) was that I could bear to look at myself in the mirror for the first time, at least from the waist down. It just looked right. I still didn't see it as my being a woman; I just felt more comfortable with myself that way. I didn't try bras at the time because what would they hold? (I tried some breast forms someone gave me, but they didn't feel right for me.) The way I feel, bras are for people who have breasts, and I only started wearing them when HRT gave me enough to fill a AA cup (or is it AAA?)

Is this what it means to be a transsexual?

I've never had the idea that there's a girl or woman inside of me, or even that I'm "really" a woman (whatever "really a woman" means.) But dressing the way women dress (well, some women), using a traditionally feminine name, etc. -- what I call "living as a woman" -- just feels like it fits me better.

[*] Total tangent: today I heard a wonderful quote:

“If your love for me requires that I hide parts of who I am, then you don't love me. Love is never a request for silence.”

(DeRay McKesson)

"Hiding parts of who I am" pretty much describes my relationship with my family of origin. It describes my experience with most of the other adults during my growing up. I'm still struggling to believe they were wrong.