I have been through a lot in the past few years. I decided it was time that I shared some of my story with random strangers. Although judgement may pass in the eyes of some it wouldn’t be as bad as someone in my family – for that I could not yet bare.
Many years of my life have passed, forty one to be exact, and I have slowly realized certain things about myself that for some reason I try to reject. My upbringing and religion circle my mind at every turn. Could this be? Why me? How did this happen? Is it real? What would God himself think about me? What would my family think of me? Ashamed? Proud?
I have watched women put on their makeup from the shadows through a crack in the bathroom door or perhaps from a waiting chair at a salon. I pictured myself on the chair time and time again wondering what magic can be done to make me beautiful. What would I look like in drag with big bountiful eyelashes and glamourous nails and vibrant lipstick? What about a long flowing blonde wig contrasting against my olive skin? Or perhaps a short jet black wig to match my eyebrows?
Where did this all come from? I cannot tell you. All I know is that when I slip on a pair of panties it feels exhilarating. It feels like the cage door has been left ajar and all I have to do is fly away. I’ve been a slave so long to tradition and I am so afraid to fly. I stand at the doorway and have stepped out of the cell at times but I always creep back to safety.
It is beauty I desire and I have to realize there is beauty in everything and everyone. Inner beauty is probably the most desireable thing in the universe. I just hope someday, when I decide to fly away that they will see me from within.
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