A SHORT BIOGRAPHY

I'm sure we all have a starting point where we all realized we are somewhat different than our fellow man or woman as the case may be. Well to be true to form my story is probably not much different.

I am now 32, but my story begins in Cincinnati, the year 1969. I was a rough and tumble tyke but I always wanted to play with the girls and where their pretty dresses. This made me feel guilty because boys are supposed to act like boys. I do know that at the age of 2 or 3 I was allowed to carry a purse, in it was my toys , but because my parents were very homophobic, I soon lost the purse (they were not about to raise a sissy.) It also became clear that boys were not supposed to cry. So I tried to become the "PERFECT SON" my parents expected, but all along wanting to wear dresses and makeup. The Halloween of 1969, my Aunt dressed my younger brother as a girl, I openly teased him but secretly was very envious.

In the fall of 1973 we packed up and moved to Houston. This was the first time my mother worked outside the home, finally a little privacy. I began acting upon my deepest desires wearing my mother's makeup and clothes, and it was wonderful, it felt so natural until I thought about the son I was supposed to be. Then guilt set in and I made a mad dash for the shower to wash the little girl away! This went on for a number of years and the guilt associated with it was terrible, so much so that at the age of 12 I was drinking beer on a regular basis, all because of not understanding what was going on within myself. How could the feelings and identity, not match the physical body? (Some of this is very painful for me because it's the first real time I've put pen to paper and really thought about where I've been, where I am , but, still not sure where I'm going.)

By the time I was 15, I was drinking beer always, even sneaking out to lunch from school and drinking a quart or two, and then heading back to class. After graduation I went to State University which lasted one semester.

The freedom to dress privately in my dorm room was great, I never got passed the door though, but as long as my roommate was gone I was all made up with no place to go. The guilt and the drinking finally took it's toll. After one semester I had a very low grade point average, so my parents made me come home, so long pretty girl, hello "PERFECT SON". By now the drinking was pretty much everyday and my parents became concerned, very concerned. Neither of my parents drink, so it was hard for them to understand why I was drinking so much. Finally my mother waited until everyone was out of the house then she cornered me in the living room. She begged me to tell her "what is wrong? what's bothering you? Please tell me! I can help!" Now you have to understand that my mother and I, never got along up till this point. So there was a big question of trust to overcome to tell her what the problem was. Now at this point we are both crying , and I finally said "mother I have a gender problem I don't think she really understood then I said "I like to wear women's clothes and makeup, I feel Like a girl. Well she was glad I told her and I guess I was too "at first".

She took me to a psychiatrist who suggested a (for lack of a better word) mental hospital. I met one time with this "shrink" then she left on a 2 week vacation. Now I'm stuck in a mental hospital not knowing anyone scared and alone and to afraid to share anything in my head. I told my folks I wanted to leave and they came to get me but the hospital wouldn't let me leave. Now the nightmare begins. They had to hire a lawyer and we had to go to court for a hearing. The judge found no grounds for the hospital to keep me. So I was free. This experience left me very untrusting of the mental health profession, "now" I know my parents meant well but at the time I didn't see it that way. Soon it was off to another shrink, this one was an ex-navy man. He told me and my folks that I had a harmless fetish for women's clothes. I said fine, my folks said I should keep going to him and I said no. It would be a cold day in hell before I told any stranger or anybody what I really felt deep inside, especially after what I had just gone through. The issue was pushed under the rug and again I became the "PERFECT SON".

In 1983 it was back to State University, this time with my secret wardrobe and makeup case, and a new outlook on my gender identity, finally becoming more excepting of myself. Research had brought a greater understanding of the nature of gender dysphoria. I was still closeted but began to except myself, for me. By the way college went much better this time , I had a solid B average.

After college I moved in with my high school sweet heart. I told her why I was in the hospital. I told her the truth. She seemed to be accepting , I think mainly because she loved me and partly because of some naiveté as to what gender confusion was. We got married in 1988 and had a daughter in 1989. Now she knew I liked to dress and she was somewhat tolerant, but hated the fact that I looked better in her clothes than she did. My makeup application was and is much better. She had only seen me dressed a few times.

On to the '90's I began dressing more frequently and she started becoming less tolerant, so I started suppressing my inner feelings and soon grew angry and nasty and openly hostile. I resolved this by wearing my clothes all the time nothing fancy, Leggings, tee-shirts, women tennis shoes, of course, panties, and socks. Basically that's what I wear full time, it is more of an androgynous look . My parents questioned things a little bit but soon dropped it, I guess they realized there's not much they could do since I was 28. Well now I'm 32 and my daughter is 7, I'm raising her to be open minded and teaching her that people are different. If she ask questions I answer them honestly supplying just enough information to satisfy her. Even at this age she's not afraid to come to me and talk about anything, she is really great. I have promised myself never to over react to any situation that she may present to me.

I know someday she and I will discuss my life and events in it. I can't wait. To this day I have only told one person the true depths of my feelings and that person is my younger brother, he is only 11 months younger. (He has also had his share of personal problems 5 years ago he came out to the family that he was gay) This made it easy for me to talk to him. He and I have always been close, I've told him how I have always felt like a girl. He listens and It feels good to talk to someone. He offers advice and I listen. Now that it's 1996 I look back over the years and see how much I have grown. I am slowly letting a little more of my self out of the closet. I don't know if the "PERFECT SON" could ever be accepted as the "PERFECT DAUGHTER", but who knows what the future holds. There has been alot left unsaid but maybe with time it will come to be.

LOTS OF LOVE TO ALL, DAPHNE!
©1996 Daphne Decker