Years Of Longing

Drive by a little bridal shop out in the country today, and I remembered when they also advertised having costumes.

That memory was from what I call the “years of longing,” the years before I went to my first tranny group meeting in 1986.  Those years were followed by the guy-in-a-dress “years of exploration” that lasted about until I went to my first transgender conference in 1994, then the TGIC “years of helping” that lasted until about 1999 (documented on, and since then, the “years of going deep.”

While I can talk about the other periods easily enough, I don’t like to talk about the years of longing very much at all.  Putting myself back there makes my stomach hurt, leaves me queasy and squirming.

In those days, I was so crude and clumsy that my only hope was to ask women in beauty shops and costume places to help, under the guise of fakakta cover stories about costumes and such.

I remember those days, but boy, that person, so deep in the closet, still makes me tense up and sweat.

Except for PalVal, with whom it’s been an interesting 25 years since I asked for help with a makeover, to all the salesgirls and beauticians and store owners I made uncomfortable by my clumsy requests to help me find magic I deseparately needed, and maybe still need, I apologize.  I’m sorry I couldn’t be present, sorry for my manipulations.

But if you do have any leftover magic you neglected to find for me, do give me call.