A different Light

I pull a flamboyant tee-shirt, from my dresser drawer. Momma does not like me to wear it when I am going out in public. She tells me it is a girly piece, and it will ruin my career, as a musician. I have lots of pinks and purples, and when nobody is looking I put them on.
I have favored girly things for awhile, but I keep it to myself. In the media they see me in baby blue a lot. I think baby blue is second to pink. Lots of girls wear baby blue. It could be the new pink.
I put on a dress the other day. Momma would disapprove, but I was home alone, and I thought it would not hurt. I was fine, until the doorbell rang, and I answered it. It was weird seeing my current girlfriend’s face. I did not make a lie, about what I was doing, and she seemed to understand.
I have not worn a dress since then. I figure I am not safe, because anyone may see that I am wearing one. I do not want to be a freak. I am so different, and I can’t be. I am Justin Timberlake, and I am supposed to be perfect according to the world.

I was watching Discovery Health Channel and saw a show about people like me. I felt relieved to know I am not alone in my plight. One day I may tell the world about this for now there is always is alone time to dress the way I want.
Momma is changing too. She is seeing that this is not like my red hat phase where all I wanted for a month was to wear all my red hats I had in my room. She does not quite understand, but at least she is trying to understand my thinking.
She even looked over the dress I had on the day my girlfriend stopped by. It reminded her of her dressing style, and she smiled and kissed my head of curls. That felt so good, instead of her leaving me alone and hurt. Maybe if she excepts me for who I am the rest of society will too.

I bought a new dress today, after breaking it off with my girlfriend. It was a mutual ending. I am a little sad. She was a sweet girl. She had awesome style, and a heart of gold.
This dress is not pink like the other one I own. It is more playful, and I like the silky feel against my skin. I could wear it 24/7 if I was a lady. I have it on, as I speak.
I have decided it is okay to wear at night. There is less likely a chance people will see me. I will put something over it, if someone comes. I have lots of jackets that are long, and since it is dark it makes it hard for them to tell.

I have started redecorating, as I feel more comfortable about who I am around others. My best friend, Trace, is helping me. He knows what I like, and does not think any differently about me than his other friends. He admires me for starting to show people who I really am, if it is just in my home decor.

Today is a complete disaster, and I am scared someone outside of my circle discovered my love of dresses and liking of girly things. I had known her since I was young, but I always managed to hide it then. Britney laughed hard and I wanted to go hide, because she knew I was serious about my liking for the dress. She could tell by the looking in my eyes. I could have lied, but Britney knows me too well. Her laughter still rings in my ears, and I feel as though everyone but my Momma and Trace are going to laugh too and call me all sorts of names, and possibly hurt me.
I want so bad to be accepted into society that when I came home from the store I put on one of my jerseys and a baseball hat. It does not feel right, unlike when I hold the dress I wore last night that is what makes me comfortable.
Trace says it okay to be upset, and tells me to put on one of my dresses to make me feel better, but I am afraid too. I keep it in my arms and tell him I think I am a weirdo for being this way.
He insists I am not a weirdo, and that all will be okay, and for now I half believe him, and go put on the dress I am holding.

I am so confused, as I sit here in one of my dresses. I am going to see a physiologist to help me sort out my feelings. I already met him once, with my mom. This will be my first visit alone, and I am terrified. I do not want to do something I will regret.
Dr. Hubert has an interest in wearing girly things too, but knows when it is right and when it is not. He is going to show me how to handle my urges. He tells me it is like any other obsession, and there is only two ways to justify it his way or surgery and a whole lot of medications to make me female.
I do not want to be so drastic, so I follow what he tells me to do. He suggests I avoid going to the woman’s dress section, and to find another route, so I will not peek at the new dresses. I only stare at dresses in the catalogues that come to my home.
It makes life easier to have these magazines, because nobody is staring me down. I want to feel them. That is part of the fun of buying dresses, but I know I cannot. I can touch them when they arrive.
I have three dresses, and ordered some stuff to go with them. I never had a bra before, and wanted to try one. I know it will fit funny, but it will make me fit the part when I dress like a woman. I will not look so odd.

Bras are difficult. No wonder it takes woman so long to get ready for the day, getting those little things to go together took lots of time. If I had to do that every day and get my curls just right that would drive me nuts.
I hide my curls under my hats. I love hats as much as dresses. I collect mainly red hats. Some of my hats have pink on them. The pink ones do not come out much. I bought a pink one to match my dress. Momma claims it is too girly, and took it from my collection.
I told her I would like it back, but she still has it. I know it is for my own good.

Dr. Hubert allowed me to wear one of my dresses at my secession. I put it on in the bathroom in his office. He believes I should expose my identity a little at a time. It felt good to wear it during the day, and have nobody harassing me. I wore shoes and a pocketbook too.
The shoes were painful, and I thought I was going to fall over, but I am getting used to them.
I do not see how woman carry around a pocketbook all the time. Those can get to be quite heavy. Why can’t woman just put their stuff in the pockets of their dresses? Purses have so many compartments. Surly, they must get confused.
I am going home in this dress, and if someone stops me they will, but I need to be me. I will deal with them when I am ready, but for now I am beginning something new. If people cannot except me for who I am that is their loss. I know life is going to be rough, but I am ready for a new change. World here I come.

I have a new girl I enjoy being with. She knows I am not like the other guys, and is accepting of my interests. She asked me how serious I am about wearing dresses and doing ladylike actions, and I explained to her what I was going for.
She glanced over my dresses, bra and pocketbook, and explained to me what is good fashion sense. I wish Momma would do that.
We went to a store, and she purchased me clothes that I liked and that made me look good.

I am wearing one of my favorite dresses to go to a club. A wig covers my head of curls. I kind of like the wig. It has curls, but longer to represent a female image, and is done up in a ponytail. It seems so real. People would not know it is not my hair. It will do, until my hair grows out a bit more. I am putting on a heart shaped locket made of gold. It is so pretty.
Hair takes so long to grow, when you want it too. I can comb it finally, and put some clippers in there. I wish my hair was straight, so it would not hurt, as much, when I use the comb.

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