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| Providing for the personal growth and fulfillment of those whose lives are affected by crossdressing |
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March 2010
Newsletter |
August 2010
CONTENTS
Summertime Living- Abigail, AO President (Just click on the title above to go directly to an article.) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[To Top] Summertime Living Summertime and the livin’ is easy
Driving to Cleveland By Bobbi “A quarter tank of gas should be enough to get me to the West side of Cleveland and back”, I thought to myself. “I’ll stop and fill up on the way home.” I had left the house about 15 minutes later than I had planned to get to Union Station by 7:00. Twice I was interrupted while I was putting on my makeup by my sons, one needing some money for the evening and the other wanting me to test a guitar cable. And then there was the time spent staring at a skirt and a pair of jeans, trying to decide which to wear. I was driving to Cleveland to meet some friends from BRATS for dinner. I had never been to Union Station, a TG friendly gay bar and restaurant on the West side, and I had no idea what to expect. It was raining when I left the house, and when I got on I-480 in Streetsboro the shower turned into a downpour. As I passed the Rt. 91 exit, the rain got so heavy that I tapped the brake pedal to turn off the cruise control and slowed down because of the poor visibility. “At least the grooves in the road from the construction should help prevent hydroplaning”, I thought as I hit another expanse of standing water. But now my entire cushion of time was lost, I had no time to spare. As I passed under the Rt. 82 underpass, I thought that the rain was letting up a bit, when I saw, about a quarter mile ahead, a huge spray of water as a car ahead of me hit some standing water. Then I saw the black blur of the car go over the embankment to the right of the road and disappear. “Oh, s###”, I said out loud, as I checked my mirrors for traffic coming down the entrance ramp and behind me, turned on my right turn signal, and began to break hard. When I came to a stop on the side berm, I looked to the right and saw a huge section of the chain link fence that had been flattened to the ground as I pushed the button for the hazard lights and reached into my purse for my cell phone. The car was nowhere to be seen, but other people that had pulled over were starting to emerge from cars in front of me. “This should be interesting,” I thought, as I looked down at the water that looked to be a few inches deep in the drainage ditch, then up the steep embankment to the torn up fence. I had decided on the knee length skirt and 3 inch heels. “At least the rain has stopped!” I stepped as far over the water in the ditch as I could, but my left foot disappeared into muddy water half way up my calf. As I put my weight onto my other foot on the other side of the ditch, I was a bit surprised that my shoe was still on my left foot as I pulled it out of the water. Up the embankment and over the fence that was lying flat on the ground, I saw a black SUV crossover resting on its left side in a back yard. A man was yelling at the occupants, asking if they were OK. I could not hear what, if any response that he got. I dialed 911 on my phone, but heard only silence. I hit clear, and dialed again. “Summit County 911”, the woman’s voice seemed to have a sense of urgency. “What is the location of your emergency?” “Twinsburg, I think,” I responded. Looking at the man trying to gain access to the car I asked, “Twinsburg?” “Yeah,” he responded. After I was transferred to the Twinsburg dispatch center and told the dispatcher what I was looking at, she said that they had just dispatched police and fire to the scene, and asked me to confirm the address, which I did with the man that was yelling at the car. “Did you try to open the doors,” I asked the man, as I reached up and tried to lift the door handle that was now above my head? It was still locked. Just then, another man carrying a hammer approached the back passenger window from the direction of the house behind me, swung, and shattered the glass in before I could tell him that it would be better to break out the back window. He looked down into the broken out window, and I heard him apologize to the person that he had just covered with shattered glass. He then walked around and broke out the rear window, and a man emerged from the car. “Are you hurt,” I asked? “No, I’m OK,” came the response! I stepped around to the back of the car and stooped down to peer into the passenger compartment. “How many people were in the car,” I asked? “Just the 2 of us,” he responded as I saw a woman emerge from the front seat, stooped over and walking on the driver side door, carrying her purse. “Do you have a phone,” she asked as she handed me her purse, then her sunglasses, then a handful of keys. “Yes”, I responded. “I already called 911.” “I’m more worried about calling my kids,” she said, as she twisted to try to climb out of the broken window. “Are you hurt”, I asked? “No, I’m OK. I’m not hurt at all.” “OK, watch out that you don’t get cut on the glass,” I said as she looked for something to hold on to as she stepped through the window opening. She walked over to the man that had been in the car with her, and gave him a hug as a police officer strode up to the scene. As I handed her purse, keys, and sunglasses, the cop looked at me and pointed to the couple, asking nonverbally if they were the “victims”. I nodded, “They were the only two in the car.” Acknowledging, he pulled a pad and pen from his breast pocket and began to talk to the couple as 3 young ladies walked up to the scene. “Is anybody hurt,” one of them asked? “Apparently not,” I responded. “We’re nurses, and thought we should stop and see if anybody needed help,” another said. I thought about telling them that I was a retired firefighter/paramedic, but thought about how I was dressed and decided that nothing would be gained by doing so. They turned and we all started to walk back towards the embankment after I pulled off my shoes to make the walk through the mud and grass easier. That’s when I noticed the mud and grass that had accumulated on my feet and legs. “Well”, I said. “I was supposed to go out to dinner, but I may have to go back home and get cleaned up.” “We were on our way to my bachelorette party,” said one of the girls. That’s when I noticed that they were all dressed in nice capris and heels, and she was wearing a tiara. “Well congratulations,” I exclaimed! “I’m sure you’ll still have a great time.” At the top of the embankment I put my shoes back on to walk over the chain link fence, and waded through the water in the drainage ditch, hoping that it would wash off the mud. When I got back to my car I looked down at my legs, and saw that most of the mud and grass had washed off, and decided that it was a good thing that I decided on the skirt rather than the jeans I was thinking about. The jeans would have been soaked, but my skirt was dry. I decided to drive on to Union Station, hoping that I could get some paper towels to clean off the bits of grass that clung to my legs. As I continued on my drive, I thought about a conversation that I had had in one of the online support groups a year or so ago. One of the persons in the conversation said that she kept a change of men’s clothes in her car whenever she went out dressed in case she came upon an emergency. Another said that she would not consider stopping in such a situation, for fear of being outed. I said that I wouldn’t think that I could get changed quick enough to make a difference in an emergency. And while I had never been in an emergency situation while I was dressed and could not say for sure how I would react, I would hope that I would not allow how I was dressed keep me from helping someone in a potentially life threatening situation. I drove on and the sun came out. As I reached into my purse for my sunglasses I was a little proud that I was able to live up to my words. I have no reason to believe that I was outed. No one reacted badly, and I was not threatened. Quite the contrary, my assistance was welcomed, and I was just one of a few people that had stopped to help.
Memoirs of a Crossdresser's WifeBy Debbie I have said for the past twenty-two years that someday I should write a book about the experiences my husband and I have had. This is not particularly because we have led a wild and crazy life, but it has been interesting. My husband is a crossdresser. I told him he was about twenty-two years ago. I did not know that he was experiencing such turmoil inside when I told him and I did not know that just by telling him and giving a name to “it” that it would give him some calm and peace. This happened during the early years of our marriage and we had just had our third child in nine years of marriage. Lots of things, very fast. As he recalls, I did not have time to do the laundry and he had no underwear for the day to wear to work. I handed him a pair of my panties and said to wear them that day. His only other choice was to go “commando”. Well, he came home after a hard day at work and I just asked him how he felt and if he liked it. Of course, he did. I told him he must be a crossdresser then. You see, I watch television, especially the talk shows, like Phil Donahue and Oprah. Later, we talked about it more extensively and he felt so relieved. He did not know if it meant he was gay or bi-sexual. He had no idea except he had struggled with this feeling for many years. He never even gave me a hint about his feelings during our long engagement or early years of marriage. We were always very close and very sexual. And so began our lives as a CD couple. I understand it is very hard for some wives and significant others to accept this. Some feel they must not be giving their husband the macho and manly attention they must need. Some think it does mean that their husband is gay. I knew he was not gay. I also knew I loved him unconditionally and we would learn about this together. We did not even know where to start since this happened before the internet. So the only thing we could think to do was to go to an adult bookstore and see if there were any books out there on the subject. He says the one magazine he found saved his life. It was a magazine called “Tapestry”. Right away we read it from cover to cover. It was not sexual, campy or obscene in any way. Eventually, he was even able to meet the woman on the cover of many of the issues who was leader in her time. He was even able to connect with a club of crossdressers who met in our area. We were both very nervous the first time he went to a meeting, but it was well worth it. He still has some friends that he met there that day. I know we all have our stories about how we found out. We all can still remember the questions and concerns for our husband. And still today, even after twenty-two years, there are still no answers as to why he has this strong feeling inside him; why it feels so natural for him to be crossdressed as a woman; or why it is so upsetting to him to not be able to dress for period of time. All I know is that I love him or her the same. It is private matter between us and not a burden we wish to put on our children or other family members. We can deal with this and have fun with it, because life is too short to do anything else.
By Gloria Sue Fenton I never had the slightest idea when I told my girlfriend, Sandy, that I liked to dress and look like a woman, just how much my life was about to change. To be honest, I figured that by telling my girlfriend my deepest life secret that I had given her all she needed for a reason to break up with me. By also telling Sandy that I had wondered about trying on some of her things, though I doubted anything would fit me, I doubted as time passed that I would continue to have a girlfriend. I had no inkling from Sandy that three weeks after I told her my secret she would, late one evening, tell me that I could go into her bedroom and really try on some of her things. Nor did I expect that evening that I and then Sandy would learn that Sandy did have at least some clothing and some shoes that would fit me. After Sandy went silent again, I had no idea what to think. I just took each day with Sandy as it came. One week later I was floored when, as calm as can be, Sandy tells me that she has worked out an entire plan that gives me the time and means to literally wear everything Sandy has. I had never expected that Sandy would not only be the first person to know my life secret, but the first woman to ever knowingly and willingly allow me to wear her things. During the time I had, it was as though Sandy’s bedroom and everything in it were mine. Sandy’s clothing, shoes, make-up, jewelry and accessories were all mine for the wearing. Sandy literally let me wear her panties and bras before I, as her boyfriend, even saw or felt them on her. By letting me watch her put on her make-up Sandy taught me know to wear her make-up. I was like a kid in a candy store, and I liked Sandy’s candy. I had gone from being an eighteen-year-old young man who had doubted if I would ever be able to wear feminine things again to being a young man able to dress just like my seventeen-year-old girlfriend. Sandy had the first pantyhose I ever wore and the very first dress that ever truly fit me. I could see Sandy in a good looking outfit, and when I had the chance, wear the very same outfit as if it were mine. Sandy knowingly and willingly not only let me wear all she had, but helped me hide my secret from others. The same panties, pantyhose, girdle and bra that I would wear when I dressed up, Sandy would wear the next day. Even before Sandy and I became more physical in our relationship, I already had an extreme sense of intimacy with her. At the time, I considered myself to be a very lucky young man. Looking back, I probably should have realized that things were not as perfect as they seemed, but I didn’t. Sandy was in no way forced to do anything by me. She could have said “no” at any time, and I couldn’t have said or done a thing about it. Sandy could have also broken up with me at any time, and easily found another boyfriend. Quite frankly, I couldn’t have done much of anything that I did unless Sandy wanted me to. Hindsight isn’t always kind in what it shows. I should have reined in my own enthusiasm for what was happening, but I was young and not always wise. I got so wrapped up in the moments that I seldom thought things through for my own good or Sandy’s. It was too easy to see my reflections in a mirror and not see the realities. Just because the high heels fit didn’t mean that I had to wear them, at least as often as I did. It took me another twenty years in order to put some things in perspective. I can say that I didn’t try to push anything with Sandy at the time, but I didn’t restrain it either. It probably would have made a big difference if Sandy’s clothes and shoes had not fit me. A lot could not have happened then. But, what Sandy had did fit. Sandy did what she did. And I did what I did. It was quite a moment in time. Gloria Sue Fenton
Girly Chatby Diane A short newsletter article, adapted from something I posted elsewhere:
A partner of a trans-person raised the question, what is this "girly chat" I hear about? My take was somewhat different from the other contributors.
The topics of "girly chat"- clothes, makeup, hair, relationships, children, family ARE in fact "shop talk" for the traditional female role. It is a JOB to be properly put together and turned out. It is a JOB to catch and hold a man. It is a JOB to manage relationships and affiliations and it is a JOB to raise children and manage extended familial ties. Just because we are socially conditioned to see only things with paychecks attached as jobs doesn't mean that it's true.
The problem then with "Girly Chat" by various categories of trans people is that it isn't a JOB, it's a recreation, a hobby, a tourist activity... and when conducted this way, it can rightly be seen as disrespectful of people who are stuck with this job of being seen as properly female in this society. Of course, some of the associated affected code words that go with this are known to drive people batty. By way of negative examples listed on the discussion board- there's "huggles", "squee", "giggles", "tee-hee", "hugggzzzz", "gurlz" and so forth. Feel free to exchange "s" for "z" and vice versa for amplified effects. As for some other points- Yes, many women do talk with each other differently and the conversation changes to accommodate men in the room (part of the job, doncha know). Yes, many women in fact do enjoy facets of 'girly talk'....but they sure aren't limited by it. And yes, I feel comfortable there, in women's groups, not because of the talk about clothes, make up etc., but because of a basically different approach to conversation....it's one of my primary drivers. [To Top] My ExperiencesBy Ginger I thought that I might jot down a few thoughts on some of the experiences I have had and shared over the last couple months as the new gal. When I venture out as Ginger I certainly go through the anxiety phase before I realize that it’s not that big of a deal to be among perfect strangers. I then start to ease into a bit of a comfort zone; though, I’m always on the lookout. I tend to navigate as Ginger like I ride a motorcycle, always on the lookout for the other guy, trying to anticipate their move. It’s sometimes exhausting. I have had occasion to go out with some other members that are much more seasoned than I and they have helped me feel confident as my feminine self. I thank them for that and for sharing their time, thoughts and advice with me, I value your companionship. I have a lot to learn. I consider myself a life-long learner, and a slow one at that, as evidenced by my latest triumphant conquest for a graduate degree some 20 years after earning my bachelors. I recently took advantage of an opportunity to attend an LGBT safe zone training session at Case. The Safe Zone Program is a visible network of volunteers who are committed to creating a community of respect and dignity for gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and questioning students, staff and faculty. Safe Zone makes it possible to easily identify individuals (by display of the safe zone logo) who are committed to creating an environment in which all people are free to thrive academically, professionally and personally. I attended (in guy mode) as an ally to the LGBT community in order to learn more about myself and the LGBT community, but what a wonderful way for me to be of service to Alpha Omega if only I had opened up as a member of the crossdressing community. When the powerpoint flashed up the definition of crossdresser, I thought to myself “that’s me”. Sorry, but in a group of 20 or so people, some who knew me, I was just not ready for that yet. Although, I am confident that I could make AO known to the director of the LGBT center at CWRU if that were to be in AO’s interest. I display my safe zone logo at work. I was fortunate to attend (en femme) the LGBT opening of Justine Mara Andersen’s, Ink and Ambition exhibit at the University of Akron. As evidenced by her lecture, art is a tough business and Justine is a tough competitor. Justine is a very talented artist who has a magnificent future ahead of her. I also started to help out a little with the AO web site and the newsletter during the past couple of months. It deserves much more time than I can spend on it. Lastly, on a personal note, my wife and I have been seeking a comfort level with the idea of crossdressing. This is a process that takes time and constant communication. We recently went to dinner with a friend of hers, who I am out to, and had a wonderful conversation about what we are “slowly” learning about myself and each other. It made me realize that I am blessed in so many ways.Thank you all for being there.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38553887
KHARTOUM — A Sudanese court on Wednesday sentenced 19 young Muslim men to 30 lashes and a fine for breaking moral codes by wearing women's clothes and makeup, a case exposing Sudanese sensitivity toward homosexuality. Many of the defendants tried to hide their faces from the around 200 people who watched as they were lashed straight after their sentencing. The men had no lawyers present and said nothing in their own defense. The trial judge said police had raided a party thrown by the 19 men and found them dancing "in a womanly fashion," wearing women's clothes and makeup. He said there was a video of the party and that one woman who was present had fled the scene. The defendants were charged with violating Sudan's public morality codes. Local newspapers reported that the party was held to celebrate a same-sex wedding, propelling it into a talking point all over Khartoum's conservative Muslim society. The court on Wednesday made no mention of a marriage ceremony. One lawyer present, who declined to be named, said legal advocates would have been afraid to take on such a defense. "These people did not get a chance for justice," he said. "Public opinion and the media prejudged them and lawyers were too scared to come and defend them." Islamic sharia law has been weaved into Sudan's legal code and was a sticking point in a 2005 peace deal which ended more than two decades of civil war between Khartoum's Islamists and the mostly Christian and animist southern rebels. The south was exempted from sharia but it still applies in Khartoum, where many non-Muslims live. Khartoum's women's jail is filled with southern non-Muslims convicted of manufacturing or selling alcohol.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Group Information The Alpha Omega Society is a non-profit social support group for heterosexual crossdressers and their wives or partners. We primarily serve Cleveland and nearby Northeast Ohio communities.
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Contributions of articles are welcomed, but may be altered in the editing process, with the author�s intent retained, or may be rejected, whether solicited or not. We will exchange newsletters with any other similar group.
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