At the risk of being even more melodramatic than the title ‘Into the Darkness,’ I feel I should warn anyone reading this that it does go to some very dark places that might be confronting for some (hence the title).  Also, this post is pretty long, so apologies in advance!

Okay, so – in my previous blog posts you’ve gotten to know how my interest in crossdressing developed and how it became an intrinsic part of me.  To fully understand how I got to where I am today, I need to branch away from the clothes, shoes and other feminine stuff and address matters of sexuality.

If you have read my previous posts, you will know that I kissed a boy before I ever kissed a girl and that my parents were / are extremely homophobic.  You will also have read that, when I was very young, I adamantly proclaimed I was a young lady.  Pretty obvious signs that I was not the good, straight, god fearing male that my parents wanted me to be.

When I was little, matters of sexuality didn’t cross my mind but, when I got to puberty and my teens, I started to realise that I was not quite like my other male friends.  Like many teenage boys, I could not talk to girls and was painfully naïve about what I was meant to do to get a girlfriend.  Of course I knew the mechanics of everything and how it worked, I just didn’t seem to have any success getting a girl to go on a date with me.  It didn’t help that the advice my Dad gave me was absolutely hopeless.

So what was it that made me realise that I was not 100 per cent straight? Well, I found my older brother’s stash of porno mags and, like any curious teenager, I had a good look through them.  Frankly, I thought vaginas looked gross and many of the women’s tits left me cold but I do remember being turned on by the whole look of glamour models; the hair, the makeup, the stockings…you know what I mean? Then, towards the back of one magazine was a ‘one for the ladies’ page that featured an average guy completely nude with hairy cock and balls.  I was SO turned on and I couldn’t take my eyes off them! It wasn’t long before I had shot my load and secreted the magazines back in my brother’s room.  My inner turmoil at that point is hard to describe – I felt like I had crossed a line that my family would never forgive yet also exhilarated that I had found this new truth about myself. 

A couple of years later, on another porn raid, I found a magazine that, amongst all the nude females, featured one solitary set of a shemale.  To say my mind was blown would be an understatement! Here, in vivid colour was everything I loved about glamour models but with a cock and balls tucked into her panties (not later in the set, of course).  Her name was Claudia Roman and she totally changed my world view! Sadly, I can't find any pics of her online, so here's a gorgeous shemale that is pretty close 

I don't want to bore you with every homoerotic moment I had in my early to mid teens, suffice it to say that there followed many years of self-loathing and disgust whenever I felt the need to jerk off over a guy I found attractive.  When I got to an age where I could buy alcohol in pubs and bars (I passed for older than I was), I found that alcohol quieted that inner voice which never let up about how sick I was and how disgusted everyone would be if they knew what I liked.  I also found that alcohol made me a lot more confident with women and I ended up having encounters with girls I didn't really find attractive just to demonstrate to myself and everyone else how 'straight' I was.

This led to a massive feeling of emptiness inside that I filled with booze.

It got to the point where I could not carry on with the endless cycle of denial, self hatred and shame so, I got a tow rope, wrote an apologetic note, got good and wasted and tied myself a noose ready to end it all.  Only one thing stopped me and, it's sort of ironic.  I had started seeing one of the girls I had met on a night out and had fallen in love with her.  It was only the thought of her face wracked with sobs that stopped me.  A bisexual crossdresser's life saved by the love of a woman...

Sadly, I could never tell her about my sexuality or my crossdressing because she had some pretty deep rooted homophobia programmed into her from her own baby boomer parents.  So, even though I still had to keep quiet, I resolved to accept the truth about myself; I was bisexual (or even possibly pansexual) and no amount of beating myself up would change that.  Once I made that leap, my mind became quieter than it had been for literally years.  I also started to de-programme myself of all the hateful prejudices I had been brought up with and suddenly my world view was clearer than it had ever been.

And now I hit the fast forward button to today...

I have come out to a couple of close family members who were very understanding and accepting although I am still have to be in my masculine persona 99% of the time.  I dress as often as opportunity allows and I am able to appreciate beauty in the male and female form.  No, it isn't perfect but, compared to being seconds away from suicide, things are pretty damn fine.

If you've been through anything similar, I would love to hear your stories because it is good to share these things, if only to feel less alone.

Big hugs,

Janie

 xxx