Failure To Camouflage

Over the next few years, I kept these feelings for the most part under wraps, only confiding in my Skype friend or others I thought I could trust online. I fell in love with someone for the first time, from the same video game forum as her. He came to visit me and I had to run away from home to see him, I was 17 and he was 26, and we were both "guys" even as effeminate as we both were. I would be exiled from my family, and wouldn't be allowed to leave the house unless it was for good, so I packed a weekend's worth of clothes and fun things and had an incredible time with him in a hotel down the road from me, we made plans to continue a future together after I had graduated High School and my first few years of college. This didn't work obviously, because my family kept a close eye on me. I opened Facebook on Sunday morning to literal all caps messages from my sister, freaking out over where I had been. I didn't lie, for once in my life at that period. I told them everything, that I had fallen in love with a guy, I thought I was gay, and that I wanted a future with him. My mom told me I was disgusting, a monster and going to hell.


Two weeks later, she made a joke at a family poker game, about me smoking Marlboro 100's, asking me "Is that why you smoke 100's?" eluding to oral sex with a penis. I couldn't believe it, two weeks ago I'm a monster going to hell and the then you're making jokes about my sexuality that actually make me laugh? Maybe it was a good thing. She also told me, "I guess I'm okay with it, I don't get it. Just don't tell me you're a girl next week." I visited him once in California after I had barely graduated High School, had a beautiful time playing video game tournaments with him and bonding further, I thought I had a for sure winner. I dropped out of college my first semester, and things with him became. Terrible to say the least. I moved in with him as I had no direction to go in, I was working for a family pizza place, and I was fucking miserable, I couldn't transition, I had to present in ways that made me unhappy, and I felt like something I wasn't, a crossdresser. Unfortunately, this move went horribly wrong, all affection towards me was cut off once I arrived, and after a few months of me being scared in a new metropolitan area, I confronted him about it. He told me he wasn't in love with me the past year of the relationship, and only wanted to move me out to live with him because he wanted me to get a fresh start on life. I blew up in his face and wanted to hit him, but I just wanted out, I wanted to have some minute sense of comfort back home, and told him to fly me back immediately. Three days later I was on the way to the airport and he had handed me $800 as a consolation prize for my time, fucking asshole. I spent the weekend in Atlanta getting wasted and playing Street Fighter before getting back to my miserable pizza slave job for my family.


I started getting more active in BDSM now, and I had made a Fetlife account (social media for kinky people) to network and meet people, because that kind of thing was extremely taboo in my town. The one local I met didn't mesh very well with myself, and I eventually made a post in a group called "The Cougar Den" showing my appreciation for older women and their allure. I got a reply from a beautiful Opera singer and business owner in Western New York that had a penchant for feminine appearing men and their mysterious motives behind their presentation. We started writing poetry and life stories to one another in private, and this led to 3-4 hour long phone calls every night before bed. I was falling hard, and there was no stopping this. She's the most influential person in my life thus far, and I still love her dearly. I finally had an outlet for my expression that I felt comfortable with, and I thought she was comfortable with the idea of me transitioning too.


After a month of talking she drove to Michigan to take me to a bed and breakfast, I can still remember the way she smelled when I got in her car and was nervous as hell to be on a date with a woman for the first time. Our chemistry was beautiful and vibrant, there was never a place we'd rather be than in one another's arms, and I was able to be me. After about four months of her coming to see me at least once a month and taking me to a new bed and breakfast around Michigan, she took me back to her home to visit and see how I like it there. Beautiful Victorian home, walk-in closets, and someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. What was I going to lose by doing this? I had a shitty food service job for a family member that threatened to kick me out if I took a sick day for puking 6 times in one morning. I'm known for taking risks and recovering if they don't work well, so I ran head first into it. That Winter, I packed my things in her car and left home.


I was so excited to start this new life with her, I started working for her business and gained about a year's worth of experience as a social work contractee, Throughout this time period, I was stagnant, I tried to keep being a boy, but also kept wanting to express myself further and further, until I collapsed in bed with her, bawling my eyes out and told her that I needed to start soon or I never would, I would never be happy with myself and would be lost in melancholic depression the remainder of my life, filled with regret year after year. She was receptive and knew from the beginning that I had been considering it, of course she was mesmerized by the idea of watching this. I scheduled a meeting with a local gender therapist, and I was on my way.