I am always happy to acquiesce to your requests, so here is the biography I wrote for my outreach presentations. You may recognize some of the words because they originally appeared in the blog, but you asked for it, so here it is.
My name is Stana.
I am a 65-year-old male-to-female transgender person. I am married and have one child. I have been crossdressing for over 55 years.
My earliest memories of gender confusion was with regard to the wallpaper hanging on the walls of my childhood bedroom. The wallpaper had a nursery rhyme theme and depicted Little Boy Blue wearing Mary-Jane-style shoes – just like my sister wore. What's with that?
When I was about 10-years-old, I noticed a weekly ad in a New York City newspaper for a night club that featured female impersonators. The impersonators made glamorous women and I became fascinated that a guy could look so good as a gal.
I tried to find out more about female impersonation, while I continued to enjoy boy things like playing sports, especially baseball (I could hit the ball a mile, but I threw like a girl).
I was not the "all-American boy." I excelled in school; always got excellent grades and was often the teacher's pet. I was also shy and soft spoken; guys called me "fairy," "faggot," etc. I did not know why. In retrospect, I guess some of my mannerisms were effeminate, but I did not think so. My speech and mannerisms were natural to me.
When I was about 12-years-old, I was home alone and I heard my mother's dresser call out to me, "Try on Mom's nylon stockings."
I did and then I heard my mother's closet call out to me, "Mom's high heel pumps will look nice with the nylons."
So I tried on her heels, then I looked in the mirror and my legs were as shapely as a female - just like those female impersonators I admired. Soon I was wearing my mother's bra and girdle, her slips, her dresses, her hats, applying her makeup, etc. I got into my sister's stuff, too.
Whenever I was home alone, I practiced the art of female impersonation. I believed I was becoming an accomplished female impersonator, but I was frustrated and had to get out and show somebody.
Next Halloween (when I was about 18-years-old), I borrowed some things from my mother and sister and dressed as a girl. I was not invited to a party or anything; I just dressed and drove around town surprising some of my friends and relatives.
Then I was back to practicing the art of female impersonation in seclusion except for a few Halloween parties I was invited to in my 20s. By then, I knew I was getting pretty good at dressing because on more than one occasion, I would overhear another party-goer ask "Who is the woman not in costume?" while referring to me. What a compliment!
In my late 20s, I met my future wife. We got married and I did not tell her about my hobby because I believed in the old wives’ tale that marriage would cure me. I had not crossdressed since I began dating her, so I believed the tale.
About a week before the wedding, I threw everything away.
A month after the wedding was Halloween; we were invited to a party and I went shopping for a new women's wardrobe
Too many Halloweens in drag, my wife figured things out and asked me if I was a transvestite. I confessed.
Initially my wife was supportive and suggested that I find a support group. I found Connecticut Outreach Society (COS) and started attending their meetings crossdressed. Then I started attending COS roadtrips to public restaurants crossdressed. Then I went to a couple of trans conventions where I could be a woman for a long weekend.
I became better at crossdressing by getting makeovers, reading how-to books, viewing how-to videos, etc. I got so good that I found that I could occasionally pass as a woman in public.
The better I got, the less supportive my wife became. I attribute her waning support to her disease, multiple sclerosis. As my crossdressing became better, her MS became more debilitating.
Today, I only go out once or twice a month crossdressed in deference to my wife, whereas if I had my way, I would live 24/7 as a woman.
For most of my life, I believed I was a plain vanilla crossdresser, but I came to the realization that I am more than a crossdresser.
Simply put, I identify as a woman. I am not woman trapped in a man's body, I am a woman. I think as a woman, I emote as a woman, and when I have the opportunity, I present as a woman. To most of my acquaintances, I am the most feminine male they know and that's because I am a woman.
True, my container is male, but its contents are 100% female. I am very adverse to fooling around with my container. Many things can go wrong and so far, my container has held up pretty well, so why mess with it. As a result, I have no interest in taking hormones or having surgery to modify my container so that it matches its contents. I have no plans to have a “sex change” operation.
I would be happier if I could live as a woman full-time, but I have commitments that make that impossible. Those commitments are my wife and daughter.
So I live part-time as a male and part-time as a female, but no matter how I live, I am a woman all the time.
|Marcin Rogacewicz femulates on Polish television's Twoja Twarz Brzmi Znajomo.|