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A Life Long Journey Part 9 free porn video
A Life Long Journey, Part 9
This is the story of my journey into the life of womanhood. It is the
result of my own memories and the stories told to me by Momma and other
relatives about my growing up. Some of this may not be accurate as my
memories of certain events might be colored by my feelings or my age at
the time. Still I have tried to be honest about them.
Graduation was approaching. The closer it got, the more depressed I
became. Amy, even though she never meant to be, was in a small part
responsible for it. At least I blamed her for it. She had everything
going for her. She was beautiful, popular at school, and smart. She
didn't have to worry about people teasing her because of who she was. If
she wanted to wear a dress or skirt, nobody thought badly of her. Boys
wanted to go out with her.
Her parents loved her and they made sure to let her know it. It was with
their help that she got her first apartment after we got out of school.
They tolerated me if only because of their love for her.
I, on the other hand, felt like I had nothing except for Amy's
friendship. School was so terrible for me because of all the teasing and
bullying I had to endure. Like the time I was walking down the hall and
two boys grabbed me and pushed me into the girls' restroom. I could hear
them laughing as they walked away. The girls that were in there started
to scream and yell for me to get out. They even told a teacher that I
had gone in and was staring at them. Talk about the trouble I got in for
it and it wasn't even my fault.
Then there was the time I got pushed into the girls' locker room. The
boy that pushed me in said I belonged in there since I was a little
sissy and not in the boys' locker room where real men were. A few of the
girls took pity on me but some, like the boy's girlfriend, made fun of
me. She even offered to let me wear her dirty panties for the rest of
the day. I got out as quickly as I could, crying. I was so embarrassed
that I skipped the rest of my classes that day and got in trouble for
being truant. But I could not face the other students with my eyes red
and puffy from crying.
One day, I found panties, a bra, makeup and a maxi pad in my locker. And
someone had written the words "Fag", "queer", and "sissy" on the inside
of my locker with white shoe polish. It seemed like people were going
out of their way to make life difficult for me. For some, nothing was
too mean to do to me if it meant I was humiliated and embarrassed.
I felt like I had to hide the real me from everyone. It was only when I
was with Amy that I felt like I could be true to whom I was. I struggled
to pass my classes with an average grade. But pass I did, with help from
Amy. She was so smart; almost made straight A's every year.
When graduation finally arrived, my depression grew the worse it ever
had. I wanted to be like Amy and the other girls in that they were
required to wear a dress or skirt under their gown. I, on the other hand
was forced to wear pants. I did wear panties and pantyhose under my
pants. These were my one concession to my true self. Only Amy knew
about them.
As I stood there waiting for my turn to walk across the stage, I had to
listen to each person getting cheered as their name was called. When my
name was called, only Amy and her parents applauded. Other than that,
there was silence. I wanted to run away and have a cry. My parents
didn't even care enough to show up for what was supposed to be one of
the biggest days of my life.
After the ceremony, Amy went to the school wide party. I just went home
with her parents since I had nowhere else to go. I felt so alone and
unloved. After all, who really cared about me?
She had begged me to go with her but I felt she would be a lot more fun
without me there since I was so depressed by what my parents had done.
Starting that day, I sank into a state of depression. I even considered
killing myself so I would not be a bother or burden to anyone. Why not?
I was feeling worthless and so unloved.
I lost almost all interest in life. Most days, I would just sit and
stare at the television. My appetite was almost nonexistent. I ate
little and losing weight.
Mrs. Jones, bless her, grew concerned about me. Even though, as I said,
I know she just tolerated because of my friendship with Amy, she hated
to see me wasting way like that. Oh if only Momma had been so loving
toward me. Without asking me, she finally made an appointment for me to
see a therapist. The day of my appointment, she even took off work to
make sure I went.
I was scared and nervous as I walked into the office area. I had worn a
pair of panties under my pants, thinking of them like a small child's
security blanket. That was when I met Dr. Stone. She was a middle aged
woman with slightly graying hair, brown eyes, and a kind warm smile.
That first session, we just talked, not about anything in particular,
just chatted so she had a chance get to know me.
At least that was what I thought we were doing. As the session
progressed, she started to ask me some rather personal questions. Things
like what I thought about the latest fashions, how I felt about boys and
girls, and so on. Then came the real big question, was I wearing any
feminine thing right then. I had to admit to her that I was and why I
wore those panties.
I found it interesting how she had a way of making me feel like I was a
worthy person and not someone that was mentally sick. It was like she
really cared about me and who I was. I found that even though part of me
was scared to open up to the doctor for fear of being ridiculed and
teased once again, another part, the feminine part of me, wanted to
trust her completely.
I was to meet with the good doctor two times a week. By the third week,
I felt secure enough to let her get to know the real me. As we talked, I
just could not help it. I opened up enough to let her get a glimpse of
the girl inside, the girl wanting to be free enough to come out. I even
started to cry at one point during our chats. I couldn't help myself. My
emotions got started and just went crazy. She was so kind and sweet to
me. She just sat there and let me go on and on about anything and
everything that came to mind. She even handed me some tissues to wipe my
eyes with and blow my nose.
By the end of that session, she suggested that for our next session, I
bring something I felt comfortable wearing, whatever that maybe and
change in the public restroom before coming into the office if I needed
to. Then, after our session, I could change back before going home.
Luckily, the restroom was just two doors from her office door.
I couldn't believe it! Someone that had just met me was willing to let
me be honest about who I was and not make me feel bad for it! I would
actually be allowed to wear a dress or skirt if I really wanted to. Dr.
Stone actually wanted to meet the real me and get to know the girl
hiding inside; begging, pleading to be allowed out!
For that next session, Amy let me borrow a white skirt, a pink top and
black flats (I had tried wearing heels but didn't feel comfortable in
them at that point). The skirt, blouse, and shoes were placed in a
shopping bag so I would have a way to carry them in and out of my
meeting with the doctor.
There is no way to explain how excited I was as I snuck into the women's
restroom, entered a stall and began changing clothes. I felt so happy
and alive. People, who have not had to live a lie like I was forced to,
cannot even begin to understand what it is like to finally feel good
about who you are.
I found a new confidence I had not known as I walked into the doctor's
office and checked in with the receptionist. I was so comfortable with
who I was at that point. It all felt so natural for me. And apparently,
the office staff had lots of experience dealing with people just like
me. When I walked in wearing my skirt (even without any makeup on), they
reacted like it was perfectly normal for me to be dressed that way.
As I saw the doctor more and more, I grew more and more confident in
myself. And I would walk in wearing more things. Finally there came the
day when I walked into the office completely dressed as a woman. And I
mean completely. Not only did I have on the usual things (panties,
pantyhose, a skirt and blouse) but I also had on a bra, makeup, a wig,
clip-on earrings, a necklace, and 2 inch heels. I felt incredible that
day. I almost didn't even change back to my "other" self's things before
leaving the building.
To my surprise, during that meeting with her, Dr. Stone told me she had
diagnosed me as a classical transsexual. And because of my mental state,
she was going to recommend that I start hormone replacement therapy as
soon as was possible. With that, she had her office staff set up an
appointment for me with another doctor, a doctor she had worked with in
the past. This doctor, Doctor Farmer, was an endocrinologist that
specialized in helping women like me.
As I talked to the receptionist about my next appointment, she handed me
a letter and a little card. As she did, she told me to keep that card on
my person anytime I was in public. If there was ever any question about
why I was using the women's restroom, or trying on dresses, I was to
show the person asking questions that card. She called it my new
identity card. It simply said that I was a transsexual and in the
process of my transition. And I was not to wear any boy things ever
again. Instead I was to be a woman 24/7. From that day on, it was to be
skirts, dresses, panties, bras, and so on only. If I did wear jeans,
they were to me women's jeans. I was also to allow my hair to grow out
even more than I already had.
I decided that when I go to meet Doctor Farmer for the first time, I was
going to wear a skirt and flats. I had been told I should wear something
easy to get off and on since he would be examining me from head to toe.
By the time he finished his examination, I had been poked, prodded, and
sampled. He took blood samples, scrapings from my mouth, and other
places. He then wrote out a prescription for me to have filled at the
pharmacy down the street with the instructions to take two pills a day
and come back in a month to see him again.
In addition to my seeing the doctor, I went to a temporary employment
agency looking for work. I explained to the lady assigned to my case
that I had just graduated high school but didn't have any work
experience. Still I needed a job.
She gave me a series of tests (typing, 10-key, working with MS Word, and
Excel, etc.) and then said that she thought she could find me something
on a temporary basis. Of course I couldn't expect to be paid much more
than minimum wage but it would be something and would get me the
experience I needed.
Over the next couple of months, I went from one assignment to the next.
Often they were filling in at an office where a lady was going on
vacation and then only for a couple of weeks. Most of the time, I would
answer the phone, do filing, and some light typing.
The work was alright, just not as consistent as I would have liked. I
was never in one office more than a few weeks. And the pay was not the
best in the world. Still I was able to pay for at least a part of the
rent and some of the food. And I was able to buy some gas to get me to
the assignments I was sent on.
One thing I did right was, each paycheck, I deposited a very small part
into a savings account. If I had known what the future had in store for
me, I would have tried to save more than I did.
One assignment I was sent on would turn out to be the best one ever. I
was sent to a bank to fill in for one of the receptionists. She was
going on vacation for two weeks and I was to take her place. Everyone
there was very nice to me and very helpful showing me how to do the job.
And I really liked the work. Thru it, I got to meet some very
interesting people and hear a lot of stories about some of them. It is
really surprising how much children and some adults will tell a total
stranger.
One day, the manager of the H.R. department called me into her office.
It seemed that Beth (the lady I was filling in for) had quit. Her
husband had been transferred to another state. The reason for my being
called into the office was to offer me her position. That is, with the
understanding that I would go to school and get at least an associate's
degree. If I would agree to go to some sort of school, I could continue
to work part time while taking classes and fulltime when off for things
like summer and the holidays. She must have really liked me because she
also told me that if I would, as soon as I was out of school, I would
receive a pay raise.
The very next day I went to the admission's office of the local branch
of a college and got an application to become a student. Where it asked
for my sex, I hesitated just a moment and then wrote female. And it was
because I finally had the confidence to do so without fear, thanks to
the help from Dr. Stone.
During the admission interview, the admissions advisor, Jill Black, told
me that usually incoming freshmen were required to stay in the dorms.
When she told me that, I had to admit to her my rather unique
circumstance. As I told her a little about my story, she came to the
realization that she would have to make "special" compensations for me
and allow me to live off campus.
Days later, I got a letter in the mail welcoming me to the college as an
incoming freshman. So here I was, starting to take the hormones that
would make me the girl I knew I was, working part time in a bank,
starting college as a freshman coed, and starting my total
transformation to womanhood. Could life have gotten any better for me?
Libbie
- 19.01.2021
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