| Letter to Mom |
| "A gypsy of a strange and different time, Traveling in panic all direction blind. Aching for the warmth of the burning sun, Freezing from the emptiness where he'd come from. Left without a hope of coming home." - Justin Hayward / Moody Blues |
June 20, 1996
Dear Mom,
I have some things I've wanted to say and felt a letter might be a little easier than trying to tell you over the telephone.
I told you initially about my condition, the official diagnosis is Gender Dysphoria but the common term used is
transsexual. There's so much more I've wanted to tell you but, for whatever reason, we haven't been able to discuss it.
None of it is easy to say and has been a lifelong struggle that I have fought and kept well hidden. Hidden more
successfully than what I suspected but full of much pain that you may have observed in the behavioral extremes I
experienced throughout much of my life.
What I have to say is not easy mom. These are my inner most feelings and fears, much of which has taken my entire
life to come to terms with. Please try to understand as I confide in you and share this with you.
Since early childhood I have always felt I was female. My earliest memories begin around two years of age and some of
those memories are those of being a girl. The first memory, or instance that I can physically date, isn't until 1957 which
was my fourth birthday. Until then I thought I was a girl but had a rude awakening. I was with grandmother in her
bedroom at her farmhouse as she changed clothes. Aunt Pat came in and had a fit because I was present and my
grandmother was topless. This is another story unto itself but I realized at that time I wasn't what I thought I was. It
was then I realized I wasn't a girl.
My next memory, that I can physically date, wasn't until 1959 when I was 5 years old. Although I had feelings of being
a girl prior to this, such as my fourth birthday, this is the next instance I can date through specific feelings and / or
actions. We had just moved into the house in Mount Pleasant by Patoka's and I recall there wasn't carpeting in the
house. In 1960 we moved to Charleroi and, when we returned to the same house in 1961, some things were laid out
different and there was wall to wall carpeting. That's how I recall the year of 1959 so well.
During 1959, even though I was very young, I would crossdress in your clothing when you and dad were gone (outside)
or asleep. I would imagine myself as female. Nothing fit too well but I tried to imagine how I should have been.
Again, as young as I was, I felt this was not a normal thing, especially after Aunt Pat's reactions, so I never spoke to
you, dad, or anyone else about it. Also, I tried not to crossdress or think about myself being a girl but, no matter what I
did, I couldn't. I was unable to rid myself of these feelings. I was unable to stop and crossdressing made me feel like the
girl I felt I was inside.
Nothing changed as I grew older with the exception that the feeling of being female and wanting to express myself as
female continued to grow. I tried to find information but was unable and, due to my age, the resources available to me
were very limited. Still, I felt like I had some Illness or something was wrong with me so I kept everything to myself.
When I was 12 years old, attending sixth grade at Hecla school, I found out about Christine Jorgenson and learned that
she had a sex change operation in 1953. I don't recall how I overheard the information but I began to search for
information on her. That summer I was able to find a book in the Mount Pleasant Library that had a biographical
account of Christine's life. At the time, the Mount Pleasant Library was housed in an old building near Visitation
church. For a month I kept going back and reading portions of the book. I feared that should I check the book out the
librarian would automatically know what it was about and identify me as having a gender identity problem too. Finally, I
found the book about Christine Jorgenson too fascinating and stole the book from the library.
I was elated at reading the story, finally knowing that such things do happen and something can be done. This left me
with great hope as I entered my teenage years. I now knew if "my problem" got worse I could probably do something
about it when I got older. Most of all, I knew I was no longer the only one.
Everyday life was a different world though. I was expected to do by everyone to do things and behave in a certain way .
I tried to fight my internal feminine and tried to prove I was male. My feminine feelings continued to grow stronger
despite all efforts to fight it. This conflict made my life miserable.
I had no interest in what the boys were doing, such as sports and aggressive play activities. I made a feeble attempt to
play only to discover I was terrible at sports. I liked to play and talk with the girls but, with pre-teens / early teen
years, the girls don't like the boys around and the boys would beat you up for being a "sissy" and associating with girls.
Likewise I would say how much I "hated girls" when I was 11, 12, and even 13 years old while all along what I
desperately wanted was to be one of the girls.
I tried to be macho; to be a man about the boys, so at age 13 I began to smoke cigarettes. I also engaged in some petty
crimes with some other kids (Sleva's and their friends). I committed some thefts and burglaries to be part of this tough
male group. That made me a tough male too, right? Well those inner feminine feelings still never went away. I did feel that
stealing was a greater transgression than proving I was a man so, I dropped out of that crowd.
After high school I grew my hair long and spent several years as a performing musician. This was a very pleasant time
in my life as my appearance was more feminine, not only because of my hair but also because of the dress that was
acceptable for that time period and for musicians. The people I associated with were very accepting and easy to get
along with. I learned that several of them (band members) were homosexual and , at least one was bisexual, and the
rest were heterosexual. We all got along quite well despite sexual orientation and personal differences.
My time in college was very pleasant with it being a continuation of my music career with a different twist. I now was
able to develop girlfriends with whom I was strictly "one of the girls." They were Charlotte, Nancy (also known as
Pete), Becky, Anne, and Lil. We never had sex, we never kissed, but we did spend all our time together as friends;
talking, going places, shopping, sharing secrets, and even sleeping together in the same bed (again - non sexual
slumber party type things).
You may recall that several of us went to New York City on a trip to visit another of our girlfriends; Debbie Stark in
Montvale, New Jersey the year Rick Sleva died. I was kind of irritated when I returned home. Not only did I learn that
Rick had been killed but insinuations were made that I was the father of Charlottes child. I was still en-route to take
Charlotte home in Bobtown near the West Virginia border and we stopped at the house in Mount Pleasant when I
learned everything. Charlotte and Rick were my dearest friends. Dad and yourself could never believe that Charlotte
and I were just very close friends. So close that we would sleep together and never have sex.
I realize that you never knew what I was like on the inside and I apologize. Had I talked to you maybe this wouldn't be
such a big shock at this time. But still, I was afraid to talk to anyone until recently. With the exception of the band
members, all my friends were girls in college and this was a very happy time in my life.
While in college I began to research information on transsexuals and sex change operations. I knew by now that both
existed but had little information or knowledge on either. My uneducated beliefs at the time were: you had to go to
Sweden to get a sex change operation and it costs fantastic sums of money, probably in excess of $100,000.00 I found
this depressing and now I really felt trapped, as I could not have my body corrected to female. I couldn't seem to get my
mind to change it's view of itself as feminine either.
During my college years I majored in and received one of my degree's in Psychology. This was actually a search to
explain my female feelings and an attempt to "cure myself." The result of 1970's Psychology was horrifying. There
wasn't much information on transsexuals and gender issues. The little information that did exist on transsexualism was
found in "{Abnormal Psychology" of which I took a class on. That was depressing in itself as who wants to be abnormal.
To no avail I fought my feelings even more.
I also received a degree in Anthropology which interested me because it studied the diversity of people which
sometimes included gender issues. At times, such studies helped against the thought of being labeled "abnormal" in
Psychology.
I married while in college and kept my feeling s a secret from my first wife, I did crossdress in her clothing without her
knowledge. (Over a concern for privacy issues the section of this letter concerning my first wife is being omitted from
being published). It was during this time that I began to drift to the other extreme and tried even harder to prove I was
a man and rid myself of my feminine feelings.
I had become a cop because what's more macho than a cop, right? It didn't work and it didn't help. I was still a woman inside.
I developed another female friend who I was very close very close to when I split up with my first wife. I fell in love with
that person who I knew was the right partner and soul mate for me in life. That person is Jeri. Despite my love for Jeri I
still could not shake the feeling of being a woman. Jeri and I married because it was right for us and we had children
together for the same reason. We wanted a family and I tried even harder to fight my feminine side.
By now I was aware there were a few transsexuals out there in the world. I had met a few in the course of being a Police
Officer; I had read a number of stories concerning Christine Jorgensen and had followed the events surrounding Renee
Richards in the 1970's. I still wasn't aware that sex change operations did not cost fantastic sums of money, that sex
reassignment was being done in the United States, and I knew little of sex reassignment itself. No matter how hard I
tried I could not stop crossdressing, and desiring to be totally female. I would fight these feelings afraid that Jeri would
some day find out and leave me. Trust me mom, my love for Jeri has never wavered.
I continued to fight my feelings because I did not want to lose Jeri and my family. I tried to be "macho of the macho" and
be a man's man. I became a biker when off duty from work, I drank heavily, when working I volunteered for dangerous
assignments. I did not like acting out these macho behaviors and I certainly did not like the person I was becoming.
In 1990 I went to the motorcycle rally in Sturgis, South Dakota. I became friendly with several members of an Outlaw
Bike Club. I began to fear that I would need to become an outlaw biker to prove I was a man. After all, what's more
macho than an outlaw biker, right? That should take care of my feminine feelings for sure.
At the same time I realized I did not fit in with this group and I saw things that I did not like. I knew, in my heart, that I
was not a mean or evil person and concluded, if that's what it takes to be macho then I decided I won't be macho."
I returned home and dropped out of the motorcycle club that I had been Chapter President of for eight years. I sold my
Harley-Davidson, sold all the related items, and just spent some time thinking. Despite everything I had done, I still
had the same female feelings but had found little information or help.
Dear Mom,
I have some things I've wanted to say and felt a letter might be a little easier than trying to tell you over the telephone.
I told you initially about my condition, the official diagnosis is Gender Dysphoria but the common term used is
transsexual. There's so much more I've wanted to tell you but, for whatever reason, we haven't been able to discuss it.
None of it is easy to say and has been a lifelong struggle that I have fought and kept well hidden. Hidden more
successfully than what I suspected but full of much pain that you may have observed in the behavioral extremes I
experienced throughout much of my life.
What I have to say is not easy mom. These are my inner most feelings and fears, much of which has taken my entire
life to come to terms with. Please try to understand as I confide in you and share this with you.
Since early childhood I have always felt I was female. My earliest memories begin around two years of age and some of
those memories are those of being a girl. The first memory, or instance that I can physically date, isn't until 1957 which
was my fourth birthday. Until then I thought I was a girl but had a rude awakening. I was with grandmother in her
bedroom at her farmhouse as she changed clothes. Aunt Pat came in and had a fit because I was present and my
grandmother was topless. This is another story unto itself but I realized at that time I wasn't what I thought I was. It
was then I realized I wasn't a girl.
My next memory, that I can physically date, wasn't until 1959 when I was 5 years old. Although I had feelings of being
a girl prior to this, such as my fourth birthday, this is the next instance I can date through specific feelings and / or
actions. We had just moved into the house in Mount Pleasant by Patoka's and I recall there wasn't carpeting in the
house. In 1960 we moved to Charleroi and, when we returned to the same house in 1961, some things were laid out
different and there was wall to wall carpeting. That's how I recall the year of 1959 so well.
During 1959, even though I was very young, I would crossdress in your clothing when you and dad were gone (outside)
or asleep. I would imagine myself as female. Nothing fit too well but I tried to imagine how I should have been.
Again, as young as I was, I felt this was not a normal thing, especially after Aunt Pat's reactions, so I never spoke to
you, dad, or anyone else about it. Also, I tried not to crossdress or think about myself being a girl but, no matter what I
did, I couldn't. I was unable to rid myself of these feelings. I was unable to stop and crossdressing made me feel like the
girl I felt I was inside.
Nothing changed as I grew older with the exception that the feeling of being female and wanting to express myself as
female continued to grow. I tried to find information but was unable and, due to my age, the resources available to me
were very limited. Still, I felt like I had some Illness or something was wrong with me so I kept everything to myself.
When I was 12 years old, attending sixth grade at Hecla school, I found out about Christine Jorgenson and learned that
she had a sex change operation in 1953. I don't recall how I overheard the information but I began to search for
information on her. That summer I was able to find a book in the Mount Pleasant Library that had a biographical
account of Christine's life. At the time, the Mount Pleasant Library was housed in an old building near Visitation
church. For a month I kept going back and reading portions of the book. I feared that should I check the book out the
librarian would automatically know what it was about and identify me as having a gender identity problem too. Finally, I
found the book about Christine Jorgenson too fascinating and stole the book from the library.
I was elated at reading the story, finally knowing that such things do happen and something can be done. This left me
with great hope as I entered my teenage years. I now knew if "my problem" got worse I could probably do something
about it when I got older. Most of all, I knew I was no longer the only one.
Everyday life was a different world though. I was expected to do by everyone to do things and behave in a certain way .
I tried to fight my internal feminine and tried to prove I was male. My feminine feelings continued to grow stronger
despite all efforts to fight it. This conflict made my life miserable.
I had no interest in what the boys were doing, such as sports and aggressive play activities. I made a feeble attempt to
play only to discover I was terrible at sports. I liked to play and talk with the girls but, with pre-teens / early teen
years, the girls don't like the boys around and the boys would beat you up for being a "sissy" and associating with girls.
Likewise I would say how much I "hated girls" when I was 11, 12, and even 13 years old while all along what I
desperately wanted was to be one of the girls.
I tried to be macho; to be a man about the boys, so at age 13 I began to smoke cigarettes. I also engaged in some petty
crimes with some other kids (Sleva's and their friends). I committed some thefts and burglaries to be part of this tough
male group. That made me a tough male too, right? Well those inner feminine feelings still never went away. I did feel that
stealing was a greater transgression than proving I was a man so, I dropped out of that crowd.
After high school I grew my hair long and spent several years as a performing musician. This was a very pleasant time
in my life as my appearance was more feminine, not only because of my hair but also because of the dress that was
acceptable for that time period and for musicians. The people I associated with were very accepting and easy to get
along with. I learned that several of them (band members) were homosexual and , at least one was bisexual, and the
rest were heterosexual. We all got along quite well despite sexual orientation and personal differences.
My time in college was very pleasant with it being a continuation of my music career with a different twist. I now was
able to develop girlfriends with whom I was strictly "one of the girls." They were Charlotte, Nancy (also known as
Pete), Becky, Anne, and Lil. We never had sex, we never kissed, but we did spend all our time together as friends;
talking, going places, shopping, sharing secrets, and even sleeping together in the same bed (again - non sexual
slumber party type things).
You may recall that several of us went to New York City on a trip to visit another of our girlfriends; Debbie Stark in
Montvale, New Jersey the year Rick Sleva died. I was kind of irritated when I returned home. Not only did I learn that
Rick had been killed but insinuations were made that I was the father of Charlottes child. I was still en-route to take
Charlotte home in Bobtown near the West Virginia border and we stopped at the house in Mount Pleasant when I
learned everything. Charlotte and Rick were my dearest friends. Dad and yourself could never believe that Charlotte
and I were just very close friends. So close that we would sleep together and never have sex.
I realize that you never knew what I was like on the inside and I apologize. Had I talked to you maybe this wouldn't be
such a big shock at this time. But still, I was afraid to talk to anyone until recently. With the exception of the band
members, all my friends were girls in college and this was a very happy time in my life.
While in college I began to research information on transsexuals and sex change operations. I knew by now that both
existed but had little information or knowledge on either. My uneducated beliefs at the time were: you had to go to
Sweden to get a sex change operation and it costs fantastic sums of money, probably in excess of $100,000.00 I found
this depressing and now I really felt trapped, as I could not have my body corrected to female. I couldn't seem to get my
mind to change it's view of itself as feminine either.
During my college years I majored in and received one of my degree's in Psychology. This was actually a search to
explain my female feelings and an attempt to "cure myself." The result of 1970's Psychology was horrifying. There
wasn't much information on transsexuals and gender issues. The little information that did exist on transsexualism was
found in "{Abnormal Psychology" of which I took a class on. That was depressing in itself as who wants to be abnormal.
To no avail I fought my feelings even more.
I also received a degree in Anthropology which interested me because it studied the diversity of people which
sometimes included gender issues. At times, such studies helped against the thought of being labeled "abnormal" in
Psychology.
I married while in college and kept my feeling s a secret from my first wife, I did crossdress in her clothing without her
knowledge. (Over a concern for privacy issues the section of this letter concerning my first wife is being omitted from
being published). It was during this time that I began to drift to the other extreme and tried even harder to prove I was
a man and rid myself of my feminine feelings.
I had become a cop because what's more macho than a cop, right? It didn't work and it didn't help. I was still a woman inside.
I developed another female friend who I was very close very close to when I split up with my first wife. I fell in love with
that person who I knew was the right partner and soul mate for me in life. That person is Jeri. Despite my love for Jeri I
still could not shake the feeling of being a woman. Jeri and I married because it was right for us and we had children
together for the same reason. We wanted a family and I tried even harder to fight my feminine side.
By now I was aware there were a few transsexuals out there in the world. I had met a few in the course of being a Police
Officer; I had read a number of stories concerning Christine Jorgensen and had followed the events surrounding Renee
Richards in the 1970's. I still wasn't aware that sex change operations did not cost fantastic sums of money, that sex
reassignment was being done in the United States, and I knew little of sex reassignment itself. No matter how hard I
tried I could not stop crossdressing, and desiring to be totally female. I would fight these feelings afraid that Jeri would
some day find out and leave me. Trust me mom, my love for Jeri has never wavered.
I continued to fight my feelings because I did not want to lose Jeri and my family. I tried to be "macho of the macho" and
be a man's man. I became a biker when off duty from work, I drank heavily, when working I volunteered for dangerous
assignments. I did not like acting out these macho behaviors and I certainly did not like the person I was becoming.
In 1990 I went to the motorcycle rally in Sturgis, South Dakota. I became friendly with several members of an Outlaw
Bike Club. I began to fear that I would need to become an outlaw biker to prove I was a man. After all, what's more
macho than an outlaw biker, right? That should take care of my feminine feelings for sure.
At the same time I realized I did not fit in with this group and I saw things that I did not like. I knew, in my heart, that I
was not a mean or evil person and concluded, if that's what it takes to be macho then I decided I won't be macho."
I returned home and dropped out of the motorcycle club that I had been Chapter President of for eight years. I sold my
Harley-Davidson, sold all the related items, and just spent some time thinking. Despite everything I had done, I still
had the same female feelings but had found little information or help.
