URNotAlone

Discovery

July 16th, 2008 6:30 pm MDT

So I'm thinking that my last post went through, but I don't see it so I try again.  It was all about childhood and how I was told one day by my parents that I was named a girl's name (which would work for a boy) because my mom wanted a girl.  I came out just like she wanted in gender, but god I hate how long it's taken to say what I've know for a long, long, time: I was born in the wrong body.  So I struggle through childhood, never seeming to get the jokes in the locker room (I was the "manager" for the football team in jr. high, shorthand for the "woose" who was not really all guy).  I remember having the girls tell me my legs were pretty, once when at a little league practice.  I remember earlier, and often, sneaking into my younger sister's room to try on her shoes and bra.  I remember my dad and my older brother thinking there was something wrong with me because I didn't like hunting or working on cars or putting those horrible fish hooks on worms.  I remember being a gymnast, the only guy in fact, in the early Texas days of gymnastics when we younger boys on our own had to wear black girls tights instead of gymnastic suits, or at least that's what my mom got for me.  I remember loving talking with girls but hating the guys conversations.  I dated a lot, and I was quite the Casanova, but I always roamed, never happy, and never really making it with the girls.  I seemed to understand them but not know how to woo them.  So I grow up and marry and have a buttload of children, and have a career, and all the time am looking, am wandering and wondering.  And I want to be a girl.  I always like the line in Cheers, when the show starts.  And one day in Portland, after years of missed opportunities and backed out of appointments in places all over the world, I met Victoria Sinclair, and I find my self, my soul.  And I am calm.  But I must now go on.  But where?  And how?