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2/1/2008: Website content will be updated in
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From Boy to Girl:
My Story

My parents asked me to write this to you, so that I could maybe explain in better words, well, straight from the heart who I am. I would like to just say, it really means a lot to me that you don’t think of me as a freak, and that you still want me to be a part of your life. So many others in my position have lost so much; lost friends and family that this really makes me feel lucky. Thank you.

Where to start? Well if I could remember far enough back, I’m sure I’d like to start from the day I was born, better yet, conceived but I can’t so I guess I’ll bring you back to about the age of 3 or 4. Yes, I do have memories of that far back, especially when the memories are of feelings that have been with me forever.

I don’t know what had drawn me to my parent’s bedroom, more specifically my mom’s dresser drawers that far back. For some reason I had this urge to wear her clothes. It’s funny but you know, I can’t tell you why at that age I knew it was “wrong” for a boy to wear girls clothing but I did. I have read that some research indicates that a child “knows” what gender it is by the age of 2 and among other things, learns a great deal from its environment. Mainly behaviors are learned so I suspect from a very, very young age it was instilled in me that boys don’t wear girls’ clothes.

I continued to sneak behind everyone’s back and grab clothes from my mom and my sisters whenever the chance presented it self. I did this so often during my childhood. When I lay in bed at nights I wished that I could be a girl. I wished that I could grow breasts. Why? I just had those feelings inside of me. I woke up one morning thinking my chest had grown a little bit and it was so awesome but at the same time I was terrified if anyone was to find out. I used to think that if I really did turn into a girl, how would I hide this from everyone else?

When I was about 10 years old, I started feeling incredibly guilty about crossdressing. I didn’t know what to do, I felt awkward and I had to tell somebody. I told my mom about wearing my sister’s clothes. I really wish I could remember what she said to me but I asked her years and years later (I was 25) if she remembered that. She did and she said that she thought it was a phase that all boys go through. If only something had been done about it then, I could have grown up to be as close to a girl as possible. These feelings would later haunt me.

From that point on I knew that this sort of behavior was frowned upon. It was wrong and nobody could ever know about this. It didn’t stop me though. I just couldn’t help how I felt. There is this feeling inside of me; it’s in my mind, its part of my personality. I didn’t know what it was. I continued to crossdress behind locked doors or when I was left home alone for any period of time. I’d look forward to these private moments.

Every chance I got, I slipped into a dress; put a bra on or anything else I could get my hands on. I was about 11 when I first tried doing my face up with makeup. I’d use lipstick and eye shadows. I’d just do what my mom did.

For the next several years I had feelings that I was a freak. I thought I was the only boy in the world that liked wearing girls clothing. I had nobody to talk to. I was alone with my feelings and thoughts. There wasn’t a friend and I definitely couldn’t tell my mom and dad. I really wished there was somebody though, somebody that could of helped me. I find it quite amazing that being so young, I was so strong keeping my feelings to myself and working through them.

Around the age of 14 we got the internet. We had moved to Georgia a couple years back. Somewhere or another I heard the word “transvestite.” Somebody said a transvestite was a man who liked to wear women’s clothes. Obviously, I was astounded by this. For so long I thought I was the only one in the world. I went to the computer shortly after and did that famous search that I think most male-to-female transsexuals have done. I typed the word transvestite/crossdresser/etc. into a search engine and voila, other people that seemed to be like me.

I was so happy! I clicked on a few web sites and looked at the pictures and read their stories. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel alone, I wasn’t the only one like this… maybe I’m not a freak? I spent the next few years dressing up at any chance I got and sneaking into the computer room late at night and reading personal websites of other transgendered people. I browsed several hundred if not thousands of websites over the next few years. I read everything I could find. I thought to myself, those people are so lucky, they get to be girls. They get to be who they want.

My first job came about when I was 16. I was making money and I finally could buy things on my own without anyone else knowing about it. I spent some of my money on things like female clothes and makeup. I was so embarrassed buying these things for fear that the cashier would see right through me and know that these things were for me. It was wonderful though, I had my own stuff. I ordered my first wig off the internet and had it delivered to the house. My parents wanted to know what was in the box, I just said it was something that a friend ordered and didn’t want delivered to their parent’s house.

I met my first girlfriend shortly after starting my first job. Her and I dated for 2 years before we broke up. She had no clue that I liked wearing girls’ clothes. I thought she was so beautiful. I envied her. I wanted to be her. I paid close attention to everything she did. I’d watch her put her makeup on, watch her get dressed, it was almost like I studied her.

She was the first girl I had sex with. I didn’t know what was wrong or what the feelings were that I had but on some level, sex felt awkward. We had sex so little that it turned out to be like once a week maybe. I liked the feeling of an orgasm but it seemed like something just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t as enjoyable as it should have been.

I tried to stop crossdressing while I dated her. On and off I’d try to stop but always failed. I would get these intense feelings of guilt and I would start to hate myself for what I did. Once I managed to go 8 months without putting on any female clothes but it ate me up inside. I’d throw all my clothes and things in the trash. This is the ever-so-common “purge cycle”. It was a way for me to try and forget what I had done. This continued over the years and proved to be quite costly monetarily and it never worked.

I just couldn’t deny my feelings and thoughts any more and I just had to start dressing up again. It was then I realized that crossdressing is a part of me and that I would never be able to stop doing it. I struggled for the previous couple of years wanting to stop. I hated myself for being weird, not normal, a freak. I just wanted to be normal like all my other friends. From this point on though, I embraced my feminine side. I didn’t deny my feelings anymore, I sort of accepted myself so to speak.

I eventually started dating another girl. She and I dated for several years. Once she dressed me up as a girl for fun. I resisted to the idea at first, I had to make it seem like I didn’t like it but I loved it. After she had made me all pretty, I tried to kiss her. She freaked and told me to take all that stuff off. I knew from that point that she wouldn’t ever accept that side of me.

I was 20 years old when I told the first person about my crossdressing. To think, I kept a secret for 16-17 years without telling a sole. It was gut-wrenching, I had to tell someone. I told one of my best friends. He came out to us as gay a little while back so I figured he was a safe bet. It was a load off of my shoulders. He had no idea that I liked wearing female clothes though but was accepting and understanding.

My girlfriend and I were getting serious. It was getting to that point in our relationship to take it a step further, moving in together with marriage as a distant thought but a thought no less. I loved her so much that I could not keep this a secret from her any longer. I had read about so many couples splitting up after their husbands came out to be transgendered or transsexual. Sometimes with kids involved and/or marriages. Often, the wife felt betrayed and lied to. I didn’t want to do this to her.

I basically gave her a get out of jail free card. I told her about my crossdressing and she didn’t take it very well. I kind of figured that she wouldn’t. I knew there was a chance that we would break up over this. I had prepared myself for months to accept that reality and to muster up the courage to tell her. She took her get out of jail free card and broke up with me that night. It hurt but I was OK with it. I understood and accepted her decision.

After we broke up I wanted to explore myself. I wanted to know who I was. I now didn’t have any attachments and keeping things from my parents wasn’t hard. They still had absolutely no clue. My ex-girlfriend and I dated on and off for the next couple years; she tried to accept me but in the end, it just never worked out. It was hard but we ended up being close friends. She helped me by my first pieces of makeup as a show of acceptance. It took her nearly 3 years to be able to talk to me freely about transitioning.

Around the age of 22 I decided to start making contact with other transgendered people on the internet. I wanted to talk to other people like me and start to make friends that knew what it was like to be transgendered, other people who knew my aches, pains and tormented inner feelings. I made a web page and uploaded some photos of myself and a short biography of who I was and what it was like growing up.

I’d take pictures of myself at night and get all dressed up. I would pick clothes from either my mom’s or sister’s closet. This habit never ended. It was really great having sisters because I had this extra wardrobe that I never had to buy and nobody would ever suspect. Thankfully, I was their size so I could fit into their dresses and tops. It was wonderful. I had to be careful though, so they wouldn’t notice things missing or things put back in the wrong place.

I began to come out to my close friends one by one by this time. I stopped hanging out with the losers and people that really were just acquaintances and got me into trouble. I had done a lot of drugs in the past. For me, doing drugs was like an escape. I really was in turmoil inside about wishing I could be a girl but I knew I never could because there was no way I could tell my parents. I thought once or twice about running away and never being seen again by anyone and live my life as a girl. I knew I could never do that though, I didn’t want my parents to worry about me.

Most days I’d look at the photos of myself as Erin. I often thought that I looked pretty and happy. I always had this huge smile on my face, a smile that was never before seen. I looked back on previous photos of myself as a boy and I noticed that I just never looked that happy in them, especially in my later years leading up to now.

I cried every night. I thought about death, dying and suicide often. I didn’t want to live anymore. I was so miserable inside, so unhappy that life just wasn’t worth all the pain I was suffering from. I felt trapped inside a body, trapped in a world that I could not escape from. I often thought about how peaceful it would be if I didn’t exist anymore. If I could just bleed out and go to sleep, I wouldn’t hurt anymore, nothing would matter because I’d be dead. Some nights I would get out of bed and go to the bathroom, and take out my razor and look at the blade. I’d imagine the blood running down my skin.

I still couldn’t tell anyone about any of this. I just couldn’t. My parents knew something was upsetting me but there was just no way I could tell them what it was. I’m not sure why I never committed suicide but I have thought about it a lot and I think I was too afraid to actually do it, as much as I wanted to. I also did love my family and I knew they would miss me. I then started thinking that I could change all of this; I still have a life to live. Maybe I could be happy?

I had managed to make a few friends on the internet and I started to hang out with them in Atlanta. I’d drive there a couple of weekends a month. Being out in public as a girl for the first time was exhilarating. I felt so comfortable and so happy. It felt “right”. Seeing and being in contact with other crossdressers and transsexuals was amazing. I had picked the name Erin to be my girl name when I went out. Erin Michelle James was what I used.

Coincidentally, my first time out in public as Erin was when my mom had found some of my girl clothes in my closet. I figured it was just a matter of time before they found out anyway. I was being lazy about hiding things; it was like I wanted them to find out. My mom called me on my cell phone that weekend. She was frantic. I had told her I was just going to Atlanta to hang out with friends that they didn’t know. I guess she was suspicious. On the phone she accused me of being gay. I had told her that on the phone wasn’t the time to discuss this and we could just talk about it when I got back. I was terrified of going home. As much as I wanted to tell them, as sloppy as I was hiding my girl things, it was still a realization now that I had to face.

I spilled my feelings out to my mom a couple of days later. I told her how I felt inside. I told her I was a girl not a boy. We talked about many things that night and we both cried a lot. A few days later I told my dad and then my siblings. It was such a relief to not have this secret anymore. This secret I kept from them for 23 years.

I had thought long and hard about who I am and about my life. I came to the conclusion that I’d rather try for a chance to be happy then to live a life of misery and probably eventual suicide from it. I had made the decision to transition from a male to a female. I started purchasing hormones off the internet at the end of 2003 and beginning of 2004. I had started my hormone replacement therapy or more commonly known as “HRT”. I couldn’t afford a doctor or a therapist at the time. I was going to wait until after I graduated from university but my desires and inner most feelings compelled me to start early. I had a number one priority set, to finish school. I knew I needed to get a good job so I could afford to transition and having my education was the key.

For the next year I seriously buckled down to make good grades and graduate as soon as possible. I wasn’t able to go to Atlanta during semesters I had class and I quit my co-op job so that I could finish up a little earlier. Class was difficult at times. My concentration was usually blurred from feelings of sadness and loneliness. My feelings were compounded by seeing all the girls at school, wearing their little shorts, cute tops and styled hair. How I just wished to be one of them, to experience school as a girl. I had begun to mix female clothing with my male clothes when I went out with my friends and to school. Later, my mom and dad would tell me that I couldn’t do this at home anymore and forbid me to while living under their roof. This made me sad.

I graduated, with a 3.1 GPA, and moved to Tampa, Florida for the purpose of getting away to start my new life and to provide some space for everyone else around me. I needed support the kind of support I wasn’t getting in Augusta and I needed my space as well. I got hired at a software company and had medical insurance now. I started seeing a therapist so I could get prescriptions and blood work done from a doctor to monitor my HRT. I started laser hair removal on my face and belly during this time as well and basically, I really started my transition.

What does all this mean?

Well, I’m a girl in a boy’s body. Nobody knows why a transsexual is born but I believe it has nothing to do with social upbringing. I was born this way. For as long as I can remember I have had these feelings inside of me. For a long time I had no idea what they were or what they meant until the availability of the internet.

My mind and my personality is female. It’s hard to explain the feelings but it’s just that. If you could only imagine if you were born in the opposite sex’s body but you still thought the way you do now, that would be pretty close to how I feel. Growing up was almost a Hell by itself. After I figured out my feelings what was even harder was knowing the reality that I would never be a “real” girl. Something that really was hard to accept was the life I never had as a child. I’d give anything to of been born a girl and to have grown up as one. I never went to school as a girl, never got to experience anything the way I should of and those feelings were very hard to accept. They made me depressed and sad for a long time in my first year of transition.

One thing to remember though, transsexualism is gender identity. It has absolutely nothing to do with sexual orientation. Being a transsexual doesn’t make me gay or straight, it means I am the opposite gender then I was born, generally speaking.

I often think about what transition is. Transition is finding out who you are. Getting to know yourself and what you like. It’s amazing what I didn’t know about myself until I started being myself. One of the most confusing things for me has been my sexuality. Being a girl, wanting to be “normal” and just fit in I tried dating men for a while. I considered myself to be bi-sexual for a long time until recently. I guess another thing that I learned about myself is that I’m a lesbian. Remember though, transgendered has nothing to do with sexual orientation. I’m just merely trying to illustrate that for a long, long time I really didn’t know myself or who I was and in some ways, I still find out new things about myself as time goes on.

I just hope that you can be a part of my life as I love you very much. Not many people in my situation have this luxury of a supporting family and I appreciate it so much that you do support my decision to be happy and be me.

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