my story | the beginning | Tara's Transgender Resources

My Story

"To transsexuals, a woman has an inner essence, a way of thinking, feeling and perceiving the world that is different from a male's quite apart from sex, although it most certainly includes sex-role attributes such as verbal and nonverbal behaviors. Thus transsexuals recognize, for example, that there is a major divergence between working on a car as a man and working on a car as a woman. This illustrates their belief that gender transcends sex roles to include an inner world of femaleness." In Search of Eve, Ann Bolin

The Beginning

I got the first feelings that I wanted to be a girl when I was nine, right around when puberty started. I was alone at home watching TV. Mom and dad had recently divorced and mom worked during the day at a city newspaper. I don't remember what show it was, but there was a woman being interviewed by a host. I remember first noticing her red lipstick then her nicely styled brown hair, clothes and overall womanliness. As I became fixated on her the sensation rose up in me that I wanted to look like her. It was a warm feeling; exciting and irresistible!

I went into mom's bedroom and started going through her dresser—bras, panties, slips—trying on different things. The warm sensation got more exciting as I slid into the smooth, sensual fabrics. I realized this was my first sexual experience.¹ The feelings, the clothes had an extremely familiar feeling as if there was a female person inside me who'd been away for a long time and had just reappeared. Making some feeble attempts at putting on her makeup, I remember doing a lousy job. But knew with practice I'd get better.

That was the beginning.

Continuing to dress in her clothes I started taking things, a girdle here, a slip there and hiding them in my closet, thinking she wouldn't notice. Of course, she did and thought this was just a phase I was going through (children often experiment with exchanging clothes and gender roles). The urge would suddenly sweep over me and I'd rush into her bedroom, trembling with excitement! I'd play dress-up and pretend I was a girl until the urge was gone.

I gradually acquired my collection of girl's clothes and packed them safely inside my suitcase when we moved to Hawaii a year later. There I continued to dress-up during the day when mom was at work and at night. I'd sneak outside at night, intoxicated by the brisk night air and walk around the neighborhood, running and acting like a girl . . . some nights I'd pray to God to change me into a girl.

Tara in tub I'm looking at an old black and white photo of myself when we used to live on a farm in Gilford, MD. I was probably three years old and in a gray metal wash tub with Punkin' [nickname of a pretty, blonde girl about my age] and a girl from next door. I'm obviously enjoying myself even though there's hardly enough room for the three of us to fit.

Another old photo, Punkin' and I are standing in front of a dresser mirror Tara brushing hair both brushing our hair and smiling, giggling.

Caught in the Act!

Since I was too embarrassed to buy girl's clothes, I resorted to stealing. I got fairly good at shoplifting clothes from stores. There was a woman in her late 20s, who lived next door. Her name was Marianne and I remember she was an attractive blond who always wanted to kiss me! I used to sneak into her house, take some of her clothes home, try them on and return them. I was 13 at the time and her clothes (I think she was a size 9) and shoes fit me nicely. One evening I was home alone and the urge struck. It seemed to come out of no where and wasn't related to what I was doing at the moment. I went into Marianne's house, but this time instead of taking them home I started dressing in her bedroom—there was something magical about being in a female's bedroom. Putting on her girdle, bra, then a dress and finally a pair of high heels and admired myself in her mirror. I looked good! I had a baby face and slim figure and looked like a girl!

I brazenly decided to go back to my house. I opened her front door and started down her steps, just then her boyfriend drove by and saw me! I ran down the steps and around to the back of the house, as fast as I could in heels, and tried to hide in the empty maid's quarters. He eventually found me, crouched down in a corner dressed from head-to-foot in her clothes!

Off to the Head Shrinker! ²

The next morning mom came into my bedroom and said she was taking me to a psychiatrist. I refused, but she threatened to have Marianne's boyfriend come and get me, so I went! She drove me to the hospital, but I stubbornly wouldn't go inside. Eventually, she went in herself and a short time later her and the psychiatrist came walking out. He got into the driver's side of mom's car. We talked about school, my interests and hobbies, but when he asked anything about the incident at Marianne's, or my crossdressing, I clammed up. I wasn't going to talk about something so personal to a stranger!

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¹ Among some, there's the misconception that if you have sexual experiences being a woman you have a fetish, or are really a transvestite or crossdresser. For me, erotic feelings were a component in my transition, but that doesn't mean every transsexual had erotic feelings, nor does it define a transsexual. The debate has intensified with J. Michael Bailey's book, "The Man Who Would be Queen."

²Head shrinker: Slang for psychiatrist, originated when EST (electro-shock therapy) was thought to shrink the brain.