My Wonderful Obsession - Part 52 free porn video

My Wonderful Obsession Part 52: Happy Endings Well, it's now been six whole years since I began relating my story ... and here I am, no longer what you or I could call a 'young woman' - most unfortunately. Like, I'm halfway to seventy-two, for heaven's sake! And there are these disgusting wrinkles starting to appear next to my eyes and mouth (Mark calls them laugh lines). Ugh! Bring on the anti-wrinkle cream! Aging definitely sucks. Being a girl like me for whom appearance is everything, there's nothing worse than getting older. I can't believe it never occurred to me that someday I'd turn into an old lady! If it had, maybe I would've done things differently. Or maybe not. On the plus side, I have some time before that happens, so I'm going to keep making the best of it. And having spent no less than twenty years in my chosen gender (fifteen as a wife and mother), I think I can share some of the ups and downs of life as a female. Spoiler alert: I still wouldn't have it any other way! Sure, being female isn't as easy as being male. Kath's mom was right about that - I mean, it's absolutely terrifying walking to your car in a dark parking lot, but it isn't just the worry that every strange guy out there has rape on his mind. Think about it - everything costs more, just 'cause it's not intended for men. You need to visit the bathroom at least twice as often, and it's never convenient, and there's always this huge lineup. It takes forever to get yourself ready to go to the grocery store, never mind a dinner party. You gain ten pounds just looking at a piece of chocolate cake! And you're expected to do all the meal planning and shopping, and remember everybody's birthday or anniversary and the names of all their relatives and all their health issues, and buy all the cards and gifts ... I could go on and on! And I haven't even mentioned cellulite! Then when you spot that first wrinkle on your face, you have a panic attack because you're sure your saw your husband eyeing that pretty young thing in the car next to you just yesterday, and now you're over the hill at thirty-six and it's all downhill from here (while men, of course, just look more and more like George Clooney!). I could go on and on, but you get the idea. Who in their right mind would go to all the trouble to become a woman if he could stay male and have it all? Well I suppose I would, that's who. And why, come to think of it, would any sane person, given a choice, not want what I have? I mean a safe, comfortable home, a wonderful spouse who loves and respects me, two amazing children, good friends, and a decent middle-class way of life. With just enough little extras like travel and entertainment, not to mention a great sex life, to keep things fun and exciting. And to top it all off, to be the kind of person I always wanted to be ... and experience all the fabulous things that go hand-in-hand with being a modern female. Like for instance, I can do my nails - in any color I want. This is a big deal for me! These days there are endless options, but what's in style now suits me to a 'T' - super-bright, glossy, flashy pinks of all shades and hues, platinum whites, and baby blues. And you don't have to wear the same color on your fingers and toes. Most women my age like their toes in a showy, almost fluorescent variant of pink, which means pretty open-toed sandals are a must, and we change up our fingernails to suit our mood or the occasion. Such fun! I just love doing my nails, or even better, having them done professionally at a salon. The payoff is whenever you catch sight of your lovely hands or your pretty feet, and you know everyone else notices them too. Lipsticks are another female-specific adornment that's gone over-the-top with both color and sheen choices. The understated pinks and brownish- reds of the nineties have given way to bold, unapologetic reds and delectable, uber-kissable, lustrous pinks. Even if you're the kind of woman who doesn't care for makeup, you probably love doing your lips in a splash of color to remind everyone which sex you are. But if you're like me, you crave it all. And then there are the absolutely endless clothing options only we women enjoy. More on this later, but suffice it to say that living as a woman allows me total fashion freedom. I could wear mannish things if that was my thing (though it most certainly isn't, except maybe for Guess jeans!), and I could wear long, conservative dresses (which I did only once, on a cruise stopover in Turkey), or I could indulge my passion for pretty, feminine dresses, skirts, tops, lingerie and shoes (which I do all the time!). I can even rock the skimpiest bikini, thanks to my decidedly female-looking body. What's not to love? I have hair freedom too. Remember, I spent some time as a blonde and no one thought 'Is that girl weird or what!' I can do my hair up in any style at any time and the worst thing someone says is "Oh, I love what you did with your hair." Just compliments! I can add barrettes or ribbons or flowers too. Can a guy do anything like that? So maybe it's really us women who have it all. Too bad so many just won't admit it! What I can admit to is being biased. And obviously I've cheated. Like Kath reminds me (constantly!), I'm taking advantage of all this fabulousness without ever having to go through the pain of childbirth, or the discomfort and inconvenience of menstrual periods. But as Dr. Cooper once pointed out in my defense, not all natural-born women go through those things either. ***** Now before I get into the hot-and-heavy stuff (i.e. my sex life), I'll bring you up to date on my family, starting with the McCowan side - which includes me! After we got home from our honeymoon, I went back to work for a few months. But it was obvious that Emma and Ethan were never going to bond with me unless I became their full-time mom, so, somewhat reluctantly, I traded my dream job at the law firm (along with my dress- for-success lifestyle) for a stay-at-home caregiver role. Then, when the twins started school full-time, I went back to work and stayed on until a few years ago when Mark took over the family business. He got a big pay raise so we didn't need my salary anymore, but with his new responsibilities I decided he needed his wife in a traditional, supporting role. I wasn't so sure about losing my own income (given my spending habits!) but it seems to be working out okay. I just make sure the house and everyone in it are well looked after so I'm earning my keep! It's a rewarding job for a woman like me, though, and I even get to play the 'trophy wife' once in a while! Mark does push himself a lot, though, and I worry about his stress level. Because the twins came along, he never got to go to college and I think that makes him feel inadequate sometimes. He compensates by reading all these how-to-be-successful-in-business books and attending seminars. But the other side of the coin is that he's a great boss, mostly 'cause he's not bossy in the least, and he treats the staff like family. It's still a smallish company - only about thirty employees - but it's doing pretty well, or so I'm told. Mark might not be the type to rule the roost at home, but he's a great father and husband. He never misses the kids' ball games and has always been there to read a story and kiss them goodnight (though they're too cool for that now!). And I feel quite valued and loved. As for his sister Marcia, she finished her stint with the state government, and now she's with a big firm in New York. She was married for a year or so but it didn't work out - the guy was supposedly a jerk but I suspect it was she who was a little too controlling! Maybe next time ... After Megan finished university she opened her own dance studio (with a little help from her parents), and it seems to be going great. She got married three years ago, to a guy who's also a dancer, and he's pretty nice but they don't have any of their own little dancers in the pipeline just yet. Megan and I remain close and she tells me I'm more of a sister to her than Marci. And Mom and Dad McCowan are mostly enjoying life! They always seem to be just leaving or just returning from a cruise or some other amazing adventure in Europe or Australia or wherever. I like to kid them about their vacations - like, are they never NOT on holiday? But a girl couldn't ask for better in-laws - I love them tons and I know they love me, despite all my shortcomings. As for my own Mom, she manages to stay busy, even after handing over her cleaning business to her two original employees back in 2005. Those women have expanded it and now have four of their own staff. Mom couldn't be more pleased. But with her inheritance money invested and producing income, she no longer needed to work for a living, and besides, she has more important things to do, as you will see. We spend a lot of time together. She enjoys tagging along when I go clothes shopping. Mom always loved seeing me in pretty dresses (even when I was a little boy) and things haven't changed much! Luckily I trust her judgment when it comes to style, fit and color, and it's nice to have someone along who'll tell it to me straight, unlike some of those young salesgirls who only care about making the sale. A few years ago, Mom put aside her fear of flying long enough to take me on a trip to her homeland, the Philippines. It was a very emotional journey, and oh what an eye-opener! Such a hot, humid and crowded place, and so many poor people everywhere! It was hard to believe my mother could very easily have spent her whole life there. Meeting all my aunts and uncles and cousins for the first time was pretty overwhelming, and SO awkward! Of course they knew Mom had two sons and no daughter. That lame story about hormone issues didn't exactly fly and they basically told Mom to 'fess up about me. Now, back in the States, no one had ever questioned my sex, not since Chelsea made her correct guess when I was sixteen. But in the Philippines it's not unheard of for an especially feminine-looking boy to live and dress as a girl, with boyfriends and everything. They even have beauty pageants for the prettiest ones! So I was kind of 'outed' by my own relatives! It was kind of depressing, and not a little embarrassing. But Mom assured me that they wouldn't hold it against me, being part of 'our' culture after all. And later, she told me it wasn't any lack of beauty, but rather my height, and particularly my 'boyish' voice that gave me away. Filipina girls, she pointed out, are much shorter than me and have squeaky-high voices. Huh? Boyish? And here I thought I had a passably girlish voice! Oh well, so I'm not as perfect as I thought. Finally there's my brother Phil, his lovely wife Natalie, and their three (yes, three!) children, ages seven, nine and twelve. The eldest two are boys and the youngest is the sweetest little girl you ever laid eyes on - well, next to my own daughter of course. Now you know what keeps Mom so busy! I'm happy to report that my brother and sister-in-law are doing quite well despite some rough patches which every married couple seems to go through. Natalie and I make sure to schedule regular girl-time together, going out for retail therapy (i.e. shopping) in our prettiest outfits and doing lunch. Now back to me. As you can imagine, I've been living a woman's life for so long that I really don't have any male friends - just the guys that Mark hangs out with like Ben and Jordan, and of course my brother. But I'm blessed to have some very close girlfriends who seem to put up with me despite my many shortcomings as a woman, and many more female acquaintances who only know me as Sandra - like Sharon and Alicia for instance, who I keep up with on Facebook. These days, when I'm not looking after my home and family and keeping up with friends, I do volunteer work with my mother-in-law. Remember those young girls who never had a healthy father relationship? Well, we do counselling and plan activities and events with them, the idea being to help them learn to make better life choices. And I'm also involved in a local community theater, helping with costumes, hair and makeup, and sometimes performing when there's a role needing a more 'mature' female who can sing. My two volunteer pursuits often dovetail - some of 'my girls' have auditioned for (and won) acting roles, two have served as stagehands, and one is now assistant stage manager! ***** You're probably wondering if, after all these years, I still feel like a fish out of water. The short answer is yes - but not uncomfortably. In the earlier years I was so caught up in the sheer excitement of what I was doing - kind of like being on stage performing a role very different from my reality - that I never actually stopped to think about it. But nowadays it's always there, this sense of having 'gamed the system' and somehow got away with it. Like a hacker who makes off with millions and buys a tropical island and never goes to jail. Only without the millions. Well, maybe not THAT bad. But I know I'm different, and I'm cool with that. I'm different from other women, and obviously quite different from other men, but I do consider myself their equal. I guess you could say I'm a bit of a feminist, but not TOO much. Sure, I totally get why so many women are all up in arms over issues of equality, or equal pay, or the never-ending instances of 'soft' discrimination we face on a day-to-day basis, like being patronized when shopping for 'guy' stuff like tools or wiper blades, or being expected to do the tidying-up in the office lunch room. Speaking of the office, it can be a minefield for an attractive woman. I had my own run-in with a horny man who only wanted one thing from me, but at least my job was never in jeopardy. Some girls have to choose between getting ahead or even keeping their jobs, and their dignity and reputations. Now that totally sucks! On a lesser scale, I've been talked down to when taking my car in for service (which is why I always wait for a female rep now), and I've definitely experienced that 'mansplaining' thing - you know, where a guy assumes you don't know diddly-squat about some issue, like a news item or politics for instance, so he spouts off as though he's talking to a moron who's been living in a cave. For God's sake, I read the paper and watch TV news, too! WTF, like I haven't been a blonde for years, so spare me the nineteenth-century attitudes, okay? Sorry - just needed to get that off my chest. But thank God my husband's not like that - not often, anyway. Still, I do think women as a group tend to over-react. And the younger ones get 'triggered,' whatever that means. In my experience, most men are really decent and mean no offense - and sometimes it feels nice to be treated like a lady - you know, like when they open doors for you or make small talk in an elevator and work in a little compliment about your dress or your looks. I just try to be as gracious as possible without inviting further expressions of interest, and I try not to take offence if none seems offered. After all, they're SO visual, aren't they? And as a girl who's so obsessed with her appearance, it'd be totally absurd to expect men not to take notice when I go to all that effort. This is a super-complicated area of male-female relations, and I'd be crazy to weigh in too far - that'd be like throwing gasoline on a fire. I'll just leave it at this: you can never have total equality between the sexes. They're just too different. Not just physically - their brains aren't wired the same either. Believing otherwise is just wishful thinking. And men don't want us to be like them - they think the female sex are the most amazing and special creatures in the world. Isn't it funny how so many natural-born women don't seem to get that? ***** Now when it comes to 'house and home,' Mrs. Sandra McCowan is THE stereotypical woman - and she likes it that way! Housekeeping is a skill I learned at an early age, but it wasn't till I had my own home that I became interested in d?cor. Arriving back from our honeymoon, I walked in the door of the little bungalow Mark and Pam had bought and it hit me that I was now the 'lady of the house.' Yes, it was half mine - but the feeling that I was stepping into Pam's shoes was more intense than ever. I hadn't even thought of what it would be like to sleep with Mark in the same bed he'd shared with her. If I hadn't felt so sympathetic, there's no way I could've done that. Still, from that first day on I began making it less and less Pam's home and more and more mine. Eventually I was able to convince my husband that we needed a bigger place, and he didn't argue when I pointed out that boys and girls shouldn't be sharing a bedroom, so we bought a comfortable two-story in a neighborhood a little closer to where I grew up. My very OWN place at last! And that's how home decorating became my new passion. I bought magazines like 'House and Home' and 'Better Homes and Gardens,' and absorbed every page like I used to with 'Elle' and 'Vogue.' And HGTV became my new favorite TV channel. Well, maybe after 'The Bachelor' and 'Say Yes to the Dress!' But for some reason I never could trust my own judgment, so I'd get Erica (whose decorating talents were matched only by her fashion sense) and maybe my Mom or mother-in-law to give me their opinions before choosing colors or fabrics. And that's how I finally got my dream house. It's become another obsession for me - just like my own appearance, my home needs to always look its absolute best. Needless to say, I put in a lot of time and effort to make sure of that, and woe to the teenager or husband who leaves clothes or dirty dishes laying around my perfect abode. The payoff is when we're entertaining and guests tell me how much they love my house and wonder how I keep it so nice! ***** So, what's it like being a wife and mother? Well, let's start with the 'Mommy' part. Now, as you can imagine, learning to be a mother to two small children was completely out in left field for someone born male. I hadn't even babysat before I was thrust into this role. But right from the start I was a willing student, because it meant I'd fill a huge vacuum for Mark after the loss of Pam, and his folks would have the girl they more or less hand-picked to parent their grand-kids and be a helpmate for their son. And you know me - I love being needed, and I can be a real fast learner if it's about my dreams coming true. Still, it was pretty tough going for the first year or so. Taking that leave of absence to be a stay-at-home mom was the hardest thing I've ever done. Those kids were more than a handful! What with potty-training, keeping their clothes clean and organized and choosing outfits, dealing with never-ending demands for food and attention, and just trying to keep up with the horrendous mess they made everywhere they went, I felt like I was in way over my head. To make matters worse, they often pined for their real mother. I can't count the number of times I just collapsed in a heap, crying my eyes out and feeling so out of my depth and like they hated me and I didn't belong. Most days I'd count the hours and minutes till Mark got home from work. And after hugging Emma and Ethan, he'd put his arms around me and just hold me for a while, sometimes apologizing for getting me into that situation. Thank God for such an understanding man! But of course I always told him it was my own choice and I'd do it all over again, even if I felt the opposite. One thing for sure: it gave me a lot more sympathy for Pam! Speaking of Pam, I'd promised myself that the kids would stay connected with their grandma. Keeping that promise put an additional strain on me - trying to make small talk with her whenever I took the kids for a visit, or trying to cope with her need for a smoke every fifteen minutes when she came to our house. Mindful that, like her daughter, she was also scarred by being abandoned, I did my best to show love and kindness. But it was so hard. It was Kath who saved my sanity. She'd come over whenever she had a free day or afternoon, and we'd often take the kids to the zoo or the park or to the pool. She was an absolutely wonderful auntie, playing games with the kids while I got laundry and cleaning done, and babysitting so I could do some grocery shopping. Julia came to the house once in a while too, but the kids definitely loved Auntie Kath best. They would point to the framed picture of my friend and me from our dance recital, and say "Atty Kat!" in their tiny little voices. I guess that was another thing that really helped my psyche: those twins had to be the cutest creatures God ever placed on this earth. They just made your heart melt. Of course Mark's folks and his sister Megan were big contributors too, and I couldn't have done it without their involvement and support. By our first wedding anniversary things were definitely improving. The kids were almost four, and becoming more like real people, meaning you could almost reason with them. I'd learned the importance of play-time, doing crafts, reading books, and educational activities like helping them with their numbers and letters and basic reading skills. That seemed to help with how we were bonding, and they cried out for Pam less and less. But what really made a difference was singing to them at bedtime. They seemed to just love that, judging by how they kept asking for more! Kath joked that I'd finally found a good use for all those singing lessons. When the twins started calling me 'Mommy,' and they made me my first Mothers Day card, I knew things were finally on the right track. As they grew, we began doing more physically active things with them, like going for hikes, swimming, playing ball, bicycling and family camping. And we got them into skiing around the age of six, which they both now excel at. Ethan loved to ice skate, so his Dad got him enrolled in a pee-wee hockey league. If Mark had known how many Saturday mornings he'd be giving up for that, he might have found something a little less demanding to interest his son in. As for the girls, Emma did ballet classes for quite a few years and kept her Mom busy driving back and forth and helping the other moms do costumes and makeup for our little princesses' recitals. Now that was totally fine with me as I got to do ballet vicariously through my daughter, and it was fun getting to know some of the other moms. Fast-forward to the present and we now have a teenage boy and girl, both sophomores in high school and both very active in sports - something neither Mark nor I were ever great at. But they're amazing kids - despite all the parenting mistakes we made. And today I can honestly say that I love my son and daughter as much as any biological mother could, maybe more because they really completed me as a woman. And it gets better - I can relate to both of them. Well, mostly. Growing up male, like Ethan, I had to deal with the same boy-on-boy stuff like rough play and bully behavior, but I also shared his interest in making things with my hands. And don't forget I even went through the dreaded 'wet dream' phase too, so I was neither surprised nor disgusted as some mothers are when they're doing laundry and find sticky messes in their sons' bedsheets. But by his age I was wearing skirts and dating his father, so I guess the similarities end there! Then there's Emma, a pretty blonde-haired girl (like her mother), who doesn't quite share my obsession with appearance but still manages to look well turned out (most of the time, with help from her step-mom). When she was younger and I could pick out her clothes and do her hair the way I would have wanted if it was me, she always looked cute and girly. I suppose that was my way of re-living my childhood in the gender I would have preferred. Nowadays she has her own style, which is decidedly less feminine, like most girls her age. But we can shop for clothes and makeup and talk girlfriends and even boys, and I think Emma acknowledges that I have some experience in these things! And when she anguishes over girl- specific stuff like when a close friend betrayed her by spreading hurtful gossip, she comes to me and we'll go for a milkshake and talk it out. I'll admit, though, when Emma's period started I had to seek Auntie Kath's advice. One of the best times, however, was when they recently turned sixteen. Mark took Ethan on a ski trip in Vermont, and you'll never guess where I took Emma. Where else - Disneyland of course! My almost-grown-up daughter and I had some amazing girl-times together, shopping and going to the beach, just like when I went there with my own mother. Having escaped the cold weather back home, I got her into a very feminine white dress similar to the eyelet dress Mom bought me on our trip in '97, and we even dined at the Blue Bayou! Over dinner I was able to share a little about Pam, and how terrible I felt about her unhappy life and her death, and how I'd felt Pam's presence in the months before the wedding. Emma asked if it felt like being haunted by a ghost. When I replied with a cautious yes, she said it was because I had obviously so much empathy for her, it was like sharing part of her soul. I was floored. How very perceptive for a sixteen-year-old! Now I know what you're wondering - do they know about their new Mom? Of course they do, silly. Mark and I decided to tell them when they were age five, before anyone else 'in the know' managed to spill the beans. About the same age you should tell a child they're adopted, supposedly, when they're old enough to understand what 'choice' means but too young to have developed any biases. We explained that their new Mom grew up as a boy, and how in his teens his body started to look more like a girl's, so he had to decide if he wanted to be a boy or a girl when he grew up. Emma seemed really interested in why I chose the girl option, and I think my explanation (that it would be more interesting and a lot more fun) helped her feel more self-assured as an individual that nature had decided would be female. We DID ask the kids to keep Mommy's little secret to ourselves, of course. No point in having one more thing for other kids to tease yours about! Interestingly, Ethan seemed to forget the whole thing, as if he regarded my gender change as pretty much inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. But Emma continues to find fascination in the whole concept of a guy becoming a girl and functioning as one, then getting married to another guy. Recently her social studies class was examining China's one-child policy, and how parents had sex-selected for boys, resulting in a severe shortage of marriageable young women. The students' assignment was to write a paper describing possible outcomes and solutions to the problem, and in her essay Emma pointed out that all they had to do was encourage the prettiest boys to become girls, and presto - they'd solve the wife shortage and the overpopulation problem in one fell swoop. Wow - what a smart daughter I have! Actually teens these days are way more aware of, and accepting of, the whole range of human differences and possibilities than any generation before them. That's not a bad thing. But on the flip side, it's a whole different world for them, and it's not all positive, is it? They have their smart phones and tablets, and they're on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram all the time (I'm on too, but because I didn't grow up with those things I'm not addicted to them like some people). Mark and I try to plan family times and getaways to be away from WiFi so our kids can stay connected with us rather than the Internet, and hopefully keep them as grounded as possible. ***** Now for the wife part ... what can I say - it's pretty amazing having your very own hunky man to play house with. From the moment we got home from our honeymoon, I threw myself enthusiastically into my new role. Mark must have felt I positively smothered him with attention compared to you- know-who. Knowing how much he loved it when I wore pretty things, I made the effort to have something nice on when he walked in the door each evening. And I made sure my face and hair were presentable, no matter how tired I was after a day dealing with kids and housework. Most nights they were in bed with lights out by eight, and that left just enough quality time for Mommy and Daddy to cuddle up in front of their fave TV show, then retreat to the bedroom for some serious lovemaking. That usually ended with my husband flat on his back, out cold, and me in the shower with a warm stream of water cleansing my vagina. Then I'd crawl into bed next to him and he'd roll over with his furry arm around me. We'd still be like that when the clock radio came on at six in the morning. Talk about marital bliss! The women's magazines I read at Karen's salon always have these articles about things you can do to keep your man interested, and make sure he never looks sideways at another woman, so of course I put those strategies into practice whenever I can. Spontaneity is the key! For instance, on the weekends Mark works out on a weight set he has downstairs. I'll often put on a short skirt with no panties, or even a baby-doll if the kids are at practice, then when he's flat on his back on the bench press I sneak up and begin kissing him, telling him how hot his body is, sliding my fingers under the legs of his shorts and grabbing hold of my 'prize.' He'll go hard as rock in like two seconds, and from there it's no trouble making him drop his shorts. I pre-lube myself of course, and all I have to do is straddle him and slide myself down onto that big wonderful willing cock of his! I really enjoy sex like that, 'cause I get to be in control, and do the thrusting, which can be super- exciting (more on this later)! Mark does his bit too, by stroking my clit or my nipples with his thumbs, so I come more often like that than when we do it missionary-style - and he lasts longer too! But I also know how important it is for your man to know that you appreciate HIS advances. One thing Mark likes to do is come up behind me when I'm up to my elbows in cookie dough or doing dishes, and slip his hands up the back of my top to unhook my bra. Then he slides his hands around me and cups and fondles my boobs. It feels SO good when he does that, but I never keep it to myself - I say so! Accompanied by a little squirming and deep breaths to let him know he's turning me on. Yeah, I admit it - I shamelessly use my body to keep my man from straying. Amongst the other little tricks I have up my sleeveless dress! Not that I think he ever would, knowing his preferences, and how much he loves me, but as Erica always says, why take any chances? As women we hold the keys to the vault, so to speak, and if we get stingy with access, things might get awful lonely in there and it'll be our own damn fault. But as a transgender woman, it would be a lot worse than that. I know how blessed I am to have Mark and the life I share with him, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize my blessings. Like looking at other men, for example. But as I'm about to relate, that isn't likely to happen for other reasons too. These days, there are so many gay couples out there. You know, like two husbands, or two wives, or one of each even when they're same-sex, so at first glance my situation doesn't seem too far out. Back when I was still a young fella helping Mom with the housework and cooking and stuff like that, my brother Phil used to joke that one day I'd make someone a great wife. I hope I've been able to live up to his high expectations! But if I have, I owe a lot to Mom's example. My servant nature was definitely inherited from her, and I couldn't be who I am or keep doing what I do if that wasn't an essential part of me. Okay, no more beating around the bush - what I'm getting at is this: despite all the physical attributes, the clothes and the hormones, at my core I'm still male. You know it and I know it; I was born that way. And as the years have passed I've come to realize I'm not even a gay male, like I once thought I was - just a guy who wanted to showcase his looks, who got so totally carried away that he went off on this crazy tangent, at a vulnerable time in his life when he didn't have any clue what he was or who he was meant to be. So I'm hard-wired from birth to behave a certain way, think a certain way, present myself a certain way ... and relate to other males a certain way. Yet here I am - the very female-looking spouse of another male, and the mother of his two children. And a daughter-in-law and a sister and an aunt. But it's as a wife that my reality hits home. You see, long ago I made a commitment to myself, and a vow to my husband, that I would be his ideal mate. Remember? That I'd give him great sex every day, and do everything else his first wife wouldn't do, like cook for him, clean and iron his clothes, be attractive and be there for him with a big hug and kiss when he came in the door. The stereotypical ideal wife, right? It all seemed so fairy-tale, happily-ever-after back then. It was what I wanted so badly and marrying Mark was totally a dream come true. But ... I feel a little different now. No, not different enough that I don't still love my life and not different enough to want to change anything, just different. I know I'm a very lucky guy to experience some of the best aspects of a woman's life and, with one serious exception, not many of the worst ones. But I always knew I was really a guy - with a vagina and boobs and beautiful hair and pretty clothes, yes, but still a guy. My left hand is a persistent reminder, despite those glossy, brightly-colored nails and the sparkling diamond; on a real female that ring finger would be shorter than the index finger. And that never-ending hormone prescription, too. So it eventually hit me that I'd never get past the deep-seated feeling that I was only acting the part of a girl. Pretending. And that's what I'd be doing for the rest of my life! I'll share another related (but top-secret!) story with you. When Mark and I had been married for oh, maybe five or six years, Julia asked me to meet her for coffee one evening. To make a long story short, she'd just been dumped by the latest of her boyfriends, and, like always, mine was the shoulder she cried on. Like always, I did my best to be a good listener and be supportive and show empathy, which she seemed to really appreciate. Later, when we were saying goodnight in the parking lot, she drew close and we hugged for the longest time. Then she asked me to kiss her, like for real, and I was a bit taken aback but did what she asked. Well that ended up being a major kiss, and I'll admit I got into it as much as she did. I hoped no one saw our little sideshow! "Oh, Sandy, why did you have to go and do this?" she said in a soft mournful voice, which I took to mean my gender and sex change. I didn't give her an answer, I was so caught up in the moment and couldn't think straight. My senses were completely overloaded by that incredible natural taste and aroma of hers, the same enticing fragrance I remembered from when we used to make love in our teens. This was another time I'd have gotten hard, if ... well, you know. And that might not have been the end of it! Anyway, I think that encounter changed me a little. The very next time Mark and I were doing it on his bench press, I found myself fantasizing that I was Alexander again and I was thrusting into Julia like I'd done so many years before. And I came really fast - just like I have many times since. Needless to say I'd like to keep this little tidbit between you and me! ***** So I've definitely become more aware and accepting of my inner maleness, despite spending so many years developing, perfecting and living in my feminine persona. Not to mention my outward appearance. I guess you could say I'm the ultimate cross-dresser! Take fashion, for instance. If you told me I couldn't wear women's clothes ever again, let alone be on-trend, I'd be devastated. I'd want to crawl in a hole and die. The simple fact is, being able to do my face and my hair and nails, and wear the prettiest dresses and skirts and panties and bras and all the amazing wonderful accessories that go with them, are like breathing for me - not an option! I'm just not a shirt-and-pants kinda guy - I mean girl. Well okay, with ONE small exception. This is the ironic bit. Kath has absolutely NEVER been what I'd call my fashion inspiration. But one day not too many years ago she showed up at my house wearing these crazy black leggings. I'd never seen anything like them! They looked more substantial than basic dance tights, and there was a wide, baby-blue stripe around the low-rise top. The soft-looking matte- black material hugged her butt and thighs and legs and even her crotch so perfectly - even better than perfectly, 'cause from the hips down she so looked insanely sexy that I'm sure I'd have gotten a hard-on if I still had something to get hard. SO un-Kath-like! "What in the world are those?" I demanded, pointing at her legs. "They look fantastic on you!" "What?" she laughed, feigning astonishment. "Sandra the fashionista doesn't know about yoga pants? I think I'm going to faint!" Kath had a right to be shocked. I can't believe she caught onto that craze before I did. Just shows what being a working wife and mother does to you. Needless to say I rushed right out and bought a pair for myself, except with a pink band at the top. And that's how yoga pants became an essential part of my wardrobe. I just ADORE the fit - they're unbelievably comfortable, especially around the butt and crotch, where they're like a second skin (and almost as revealing!), and of course the best part is they make this thirty-something lady's bod look out-of-this- world. Or at least that's what my husband tells me, and he'd never lie, right? ***** My fashion sense has certainly evolved since my mid-teen years when I was taking those first baby-steps to look like a girl. All I had going for me then was my voice and a passable face - physically I was all boy. But hormones worked their magic, and it's been a long time since I could conceivably pass myself off as male (the surgery was almost a footnote!). My head still shakes whenever I see myself naked in my full-length mirror. Not that I enjoy staring at myself with nothing on - sure, the prominent breasts, the narrow waist, the curvy hips and the smooth hairless skin look about right. But like most women, I'm pretty self- conscious about my body. For reasons I'll never understand, my weight fluctuates - maybe plus or minus five or ten pounds. I hate when it goes up, but my husband says he doesn't mind at all. I'm sure that's because my breasts grow a whole cup size, and being SUCH a boob man, he can't keep his hands off them! But back on topic: I love clothes, and what I love most about my body is how great it looks and feels in women's clothing. So regular waxing of my legs, armpits and crotch are NOT optional. Neither is regular exercise, and I have my own treadmill for those days when the weather keeps me from doing my running and walking in the great outdoors. I've even gotten into yoga, courtesy of my friend Kath. All to keep my body as attractive as possible. If I see something I like in a magazine or store window, I never think 'Oh, I wish I could wear that.' All I think about is, do I like the design, the fabric, and the color, and how would it look on me. Luckily, fashions have really evolved: dresses and skirts are more popular now than any time since the sixties, and they're SO figure-flattering. And there's so much choice - whatever you're into, sporty or ultra-fem or haute couture, there's something for you at a reasonable price. It's a wonderful time to be a woman - and my female body lets me take full advantage! As for color, white is hands-down my favorite. I love anything white, from lingerie to skirts and blouses to sundresses and cocktail dresses and long gowns. Shoes and purses and bracelets, too. Anything! I don't even own a little black dress anymore - just a white one. White makes me feel wonderful and feminine and showy, like a splash of white rose petals. And I get way more compliments when I wear white. It sets off my olive-toned skin and long, dark hair like nothing else can. But no matter the color, I love and even crave the physical, sensual and emotional rewards I get from dressing as a woman. I'll never get over how it feels to wear pretty clothes, to catch sight of my smooth, bare legs below the hem of a skirt, or the rounded mounds of my breasts when I'm wearing a revealing top, or how a snug-fitting yoga pant lifts and sculpts me and leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that there's a female inside. I've always loved classic women's wear, too, ever since those teenage days when I'd spend hours staring at those beautiful models in store flyers and magazine ads, absorbing everything I could about style and fashion. And now that I'm a grown woman in my thirties with a decent budget and a supportive husband, I can indulge my passion. Yes, I love to shop. But Mark gets something out of it too - like, when I get home from a shopping trip, he gets me to model everything I bought and we always have great sex afterwards! How would I describe my style? Hmm ... it would be unmistakably feminine ... like a breath of fresh air in a world of conformity. Not structured at all. I do love fitted, tailored classique dresses and skirts with feminine details like lace and pearls ... but I feel happiest in a flowy or fitted dress with pretty wedges or boots that can be worn day to night. My favorites include Burberry boots, Sky dresses, and even Banana Republic (though I don't much care who the designer is if it fits nice and I feel good in it). Needless to say my closets and drawers are stuffed to overflowing, though I'm getting better at purging. Accessories? I love them all - scarves, purses, jewelry of all sorts, and sunglasses ... you name it. I think I'm pretty good at mixing and matching them with my outfits - or so I'm told. And fragrances are huge for me - feminine, floral scents for daytime, and sexy, romantic ones for those special evenings. I'm always willing to try something new to get my man's juices flowing, or to elicit compliments from other women. Now I hope you don't think I'm one of those always-made-up-and-dressed- to-the-nines kind of gals. I learned long ago that if you save your biggest splash for that special occasion it has way more impact. I just try to stay true to my girlie self, meaning simple yet feminine. For example, my favorite casual summer outfit is a plain white knee-length dress and a white or sky-blue three-quarter sleeve cardigan, worn with white flats or open-toed sandals, and with my hair down or pinned up. As basic as it is, to me the look is the very essence of feminine dressing and I love wearing it out to lunch with my girlfriends or when having a coffee date with my mother-in-law. ***** Speaking of Mrs. McCowan, or Mom as I now get to call her, we get along super-well. Mark thinks it's because I'm a lot like her, which makes me laugh 'cause she's like the epitome of womanhood, and me ... well, you know where I'm at. But my own Mom agrees with Mark - she says men subconsciously choose a girl just like their mothers. I don't know - maybe I really AM meant to be who I pretend to be. I'm just SO thankful she accepts me. But I do like to think she appreciates how I treat her son, and that I'm committed to being a good, loving parent to her grandchildren, and the kind of home I provide for all of them. What can I say - I try. Not that I have to try very hard. The twins have been very little trouble, at least up till now. They're just getting into the middle of the terrible teen years, so who knows what's ahead of us. I'll keep my fingers crossed and do as Mom M says, which is to keep the lines of communication wide open! Sad to say, though, my other 'mother-in-law,' Pam's mom, passed away two years ago from lung cancer. I'll always feel terrible about the bad hand she, and her daughter, were dealt in life, but I suppose our lives are now a little less complicated. They're buried next to each other in a cemetery across town, and I still make a monthly pilgrimage to lay flowers at Pam's, and now her mom's, gravestone. Now onto happier things, like my marvelous husband. Our fifteenth anniversary will be later this year, and we're still going strong 'cause we're so well matched. You know all about me, and how Mark was attracted to Sandy the cross-dressing teenage boy, and how we discovered our love for each other (let's ignore all the tumultuous years for now). Well that love has grown into a deep devotion that only two people who are meant to be together can know. And he's just SO good to me ... but I'll take credit for some of that. Years ago my Mom shared that in her culture wives bear a lot of the responsibility for ensuring the family unit is kept intact. That's part of the reason Filipinas are so such good servants of their families. But there's more to it - women can and do exert a lot of influence on their husbands. Kind of a civilizing effect, she called it ("We'd call it control," my brother Phil once joked). Men are naturally less inclined to be dependable and monogamous, Mom explained, and because it's in women's interest to keep them walking the line, it's up to us to use all the tools we have (including our 'other' sex organ, our brain) to help them live up to our high expectations. Knowing some of the guys I've bumped into, that sounded a bit far-fetched at first. But over time it began to make sense, and now I feel strongly that a big part of the reason Mark is still the first-class guy I fell in love with, is I expect and encourage him to be that way. And he agrees; he thinks if he'd stayed married to Pam he'd have been dragged down to the level of her low expectations many years ago. Mark really IS a first-class guy, though. His hair is beginning to thin on the top, but he's even more handsome than when we first began dating. And he has so many of the qualities girls long for in a guy. He's funny, articulate, kind, he dresses well, and he's a great listener. I guess that makes him like most gay men, come to think of it. Women think guys like that are such a waste! I mean they have all the right things going for them - well, except for one. I get that! Lucky for me, I happen to have the right chromosomes, if no longer the appendages, and my husband seems to be the forgiving type. Whatever - like my friend Erica, the guy I ended up with wasn't exactly hetero, so the pool of decent straight ones wasn't depleted on our account! ***** Way back at the start of this incredibly long, drawn-out story, I gave much-deserved credit to my friends for easing me through all the trials and tribulations of my evolution from that na?ve adolescent boy, Alexander Johnson, to a wiser and much more mature adult woman, Alexandra McCowan. But more importantly, each and every one played a part in determining the path I elected to follow in life. Take Julia for instance. What if she hadn't played that clever trick on me? Would I ever have been brave (or foolish) enough to see how I looked in girls' clothes? In public? And when Mom found out I was wearing skirts on a regular basis, she wasn't horrified - if anything, she was supportive. Remember too, she had actually helped me in the early stages of my transformation by renewing her birth control pill prescription. Come to think of it, my best friend Kath also supplied me with pills. And she didn't try to dissuade me when she saw me dressed as a girl. Her attitude could be summed up by 'Why shouldn't you be able to wear whatever you want to?' She even helped me buy my first bras! Then, when Natalie took me under her wing and showed me how much prettier I could look with a little makeup and clothes that matched my natural coloring, I was firmly on the road to womanhood. Chelsea helped pave the way as well. She wasn't the slightest bit revolted when she discovered that girl in the bright yellow dress was really a guy. If anything, she was intrigued. You could say the same for my voice teacher Mrs. White. Even older folks were supportive! Meeting and getting to know Erica was super-important too. Here was a role model, a guy not unlike me who found himself playing the part of another man's girlfriend, then wife - who jumped in with both feet and just went for it, all the way. Living the kind of life I could only dream about! Oh yeah - let's not forget four men who made a huge difference in my journey. First and foremost, there's Mark. What can I say? He treated me like a girl right from the start, even though he knew who and what I was; and he accepted me. I still can't get over that. And he definitely encouraged me to dress up and go all-out to look (and feel!) feminine. It was a bit different with Rob - well, for starters he thought I was really a female. And he flat-out romanced me! Sure, Rob was probably after me for sex more than anything, but it did wonders for my girlish self-esteem to be pursued by a hot guy like that! And then there was my drama instructor, Mr. Nelson. He was the first person to recognize that I had the ability to convincing play the part of a young woman, and he opened some pretty big doors for me, even if one of them wasn't to the girls' dressing room! Finally, honorable mention goes to my brother Phil. I'm sure the poor guy was aghast at the sight of his little brother going around in dresses and makeup, and it must have been super-tough on him to face up to his friends who knew about me, but he really came through for me with a kind word and a hug here and there, leaving no doubt in my mind whose side he was on. Actually - it's FIVE men. How could I not acknowledge the priceless contribution of that incredible surgeon who allowed me to become as close to a fully-functioning woman as I could ever hope for. Each and every time I orgasm with my husband, I say a prayer of thanks to that amazingly talented man. Then there was Annalise - the only one of all the people close to me who never found out my secret. That's right, I never told her. As someone wise said to me years ago, not all truth needs to be revealed. And I'm comfortable with that. After all, it's SO nice to have the friendship of a girl who relates to me purely as another girl. Not only that, but she taught me, by example, the art of feminine expression. I can barely get through an hour of my day without using a gesture or a turn of phrase learned from that girl. Why is this such a big deal? Because I'm in this for keeps, and it's super-important to me that I do it all as perfectly as I possibly can. ***** So there you go. If I've learned one thing about women, it's how vital it is for them to have and to nurture close long-term female friendship. I'm SO happy that every one of the females mentioned above is still a close girlfriend today. Kath is still my BFF (best female friend for those who don't live and breathe social-media acronyms!). We talk, or at least text, almost every day and see each other a lot. She married Ben a couple years after Mark and I tied the knot, and they now have an eight-year-old son. But I'm sad to say she's not as happy as me ... she suffers from bouts of depression, brought on, I believe, by guilt feelings about her abortion. I don't know if this is related, but she's also had struggles with her weight. That's something that afflicts a great many women these days, and I feel so bad for them. I really do believe that men are more attracted to thinner women, I mean women who aren't overweight. I've tried my best to counsel her and encourage her to make good food choices and get more exercise, but for the longest time she didn't seem concerned that her marriage might suffer. She should have. Mark shared with me that Ben had been seeing a girl from work on the side. I was blown away! But maybe not entirely surprised. He's a good-looking guy with a great sense of humor and any girl would find him attractive. Luckily he, or maybe she, broke it off after a few months. When I found out I read her the riot act about looking after her man, and I know she's made some good strides. But oh brother, can you believe it - she got a tattoo! I was SO MAD at her for doing that to her body. Even so, I do my best to be supportive and often get one of my kids to babysit so she and her hubby can go on dates and stay connected. On the brighter side, Kath finally gave in and recently allowed me to be her personal fashion consultant! There's nothing that gives me warm fuzzies more than dragging her to the mall and doing a mini-makeover on her and hearing ALL about the big hot date the next day! (Did I tell you Kath and I still share everything?) Sometimes Ben even texts me to say thanks. Now how rewarding is that? But it's the least a BFF can do. How very ironic, though, that I should have to help women to be better women. Go figure. That reminds me of Alicia, the newlywed girl I met on my honeymoon cruise. On our girls-only port shopping day she had opened up to me about being a virgin and how nervous she was having sex for the first time with Jamie on the ship. She'd asked how it was for me, and what I did to pleasure my own husband. Well that was certainly awkward, but I did my best to be honest and to counsel her. She seemed to really appreciate our chat, and strangely enough, we've kept in touch over the years, and I've been able to give her lots of advice on sex. It must have helped, because they now have three kids and when Mark and I paid them a visit in North Carolina last year they seemed very devoted to each other. I love the idea that I could do that, but oh the irony! Anyway, back to Kath! On the other hand, she has helped me, too. Remember how she got me to join her in dance classes, and we even did a big recital together? So lately she took up yoga and convinced me to go with her to some of the classes. I'm still not into that whole 'namaste' thing, but I know yoga is helping me maintain my shape and core strength, so I guess that's a good thing! Oh yeah - and we still love going to shows together. Last year we saw 'South Pacific' and, naturally, sang along with all the numbers. All except that testosterone-packed song, 'Nothing Like a Dame;' Kath didn't seem to appreciate the notion that guys should worship us 'dames' and crave our bodies just because we're so unlike them. Typical female mindset! You can bet that sparked a long heated discussion over late- evening dessert! On the plus side, I was reminded of another reason to be thankful I turned out as I did - like, would men appreciate me even a tenth of a percent as much if I was still a member of their group? NOT! ***** How is Julia doing? Oh, how I wish I could tell you she finally met and married a man who loves and cherishes her like Mark does with me. But no such luck. I see her quite a bit and make a point to stay in close touch, which she appreciates and everything, but I feel so conflicted when it comes to that girl. I mean, I love her so much! And Julia has so much going for her - she basically runs Prestige Catering now, and she's a strong woman who looks after herself pretty well, going to the gym regularly and eating a really healthy diet. But she got too caught up in that whole identity-politics thing. You know, where you see everything through the lens of the group you identify with, and have this victim mentality - like, in her case, women are so oppressed, and they get paid half what men get paid, and all men are misogynistic, and they'll abuse and even rape you if they get half a chance. I KNOW that's not true, and I do my best to convince her that only a small fraction of men are like that. But she hangs out with women who think the same way, and I know from tagging along that they can spend whole evenings dissing the other half of the human race. Good thing the others don't know I used to be one of 'them,' on the contrary I get extra fem points for having been attacked by a guy in my past. How ironic is that? The sad thing is, Julia's mindset has scared off at least two guys I thought were really nice, because she started dumping on them for the sins of the few bad apples. Mark explained it best: when a guy has spent his whole adult life trying his best to be decent and respectful to women, that's the worst thing a girl can do. Then the guy's like, why should I bother? In other words, girls need to appreciate and encourage good attitudes and behaviors, not the opposite. Why can't they bring themselves to do that? Well, some are just man-haters. The work I've been doing with teen girls has taught me one thing: when you've never had a positive relationship with a father figure, or any male for that matter, it's really hard to develop any kind of healthy connection with men as you mature. But you still want a life partner to love and be loved by! I honestly believe that explains many if not most of the lesbian relationships out there nowadays. Sorry if that offends anyone! Julia didn't have a bad father, though he could be a bit distant and self-absorbed. Rather I think it goes back to the teasing and bullying in school, and a string of failed relationships (beginning with me!) that put her off men. I do wish Julia and I were able to be closer as girlfriends. But I know she doesn't agree with how I'm living my life as a woman and what my priorities are. She's even accused me of reinforcing 'binary' stereotypes, because of my 'subservient' role in my marriage and the way I choose to present myself to others (i.e. my feminine mannerisms and dress). How do you argue with that mindset? Despite everything, I still love her, and I always will. She told me once that you never fall out of love with the first person you loved and made love with. If I ever start to doubt that, all I need to do is give her a warm hug and I pick up that incredible natural aroma of hers, and I'm reminded instantly of the perfect chemistry between us. Sigh! I suppose if Mark ever divorces me I could move in with Julia and we could be lesbian lovers. The crazy thing is, I think she'd be agreeable. ***** Annalise? She's married and has three children. She managed to find herself a tall Dutch guy and their kids, ages six to nine, all have the same build as their parents. They're both involved in their church and that's where their friends are, so I don't see her as often as I'd like to. But I'm reminded of her all the time, like whenever I catch myself saying something a certain unmistakably feminine way, or in my body language - making a simple hand gesture, or brushing my hair back from my face, for example - the way I learned it from the pro. Then there's Erica. Oh my God, what a girl! She's still my idol. And I'm SO happy that she and Edward are still together. Oh, I forgot - you didn't know they got MARRIED, for REAL, did you? About a year after I did. And just a few months after she had her surgery, by the same doctor that worked his magic on me. Oh brother, was THAT ever a big deal for her. Remember, she was really concerned that trading in her penis for a vagina might mess up the great relationship they had. But it was SO cool - because I was able to share with both of them how much Mark loved (and made good use of) my own new vagina, allowing our love affair to become a happy, fulfilling marriage, without sacrificing the essence of who we both really were (males), that they ultimately felt ready to 'take the plunge.' Okay, now THAT was such a bad pun ... Anyway, I just worship that woman! We still meet up regularly, usually at Starbucks 'cause she needs her chai latte fix, and we talk about fashion and food and d?cor and our men and everything else that's going on in our lives, but mostly what life's like functioning as a woman in modern society. So many things have changed since we both made the switch - trans women (and men) are commonplace now, all over the news and reality TV, and it's even 'in vogue' to be one. We can thank (or blame) all those social-justice activists, agitating loudly for our acceptance and our rights - even that we should be 'celebrated.' But neither of us feels inclined to hang out a banner proclaiming our membership in this special group. I mean, what fun would it be to play the role if everyone knew up front that you're not a genetic female? And that's the thing, isn't it? I totally get how and why so many people feel, even KNOW, that they're inhabiting the wrong body. I've been through that, back when I was still a boy. And ironically, I'm going through it again. Not a day goes by that I don't feel like a guy in a woman's body, being expected to dress like one and behave in a certain 'feminine' way. Erica says the same thing but it never seems to bother her. Down deep she's a male and she's always known it. She only got into wearing skirts as a matter of convenience - a 'lark,' if you will. And like I've described, I came to realize the same thing about myself in recent years. Would I have gone down this road if Julia hadn't tricked me into putting on that little black skirt for their catering event? Seems unlikely now. Yet we both chose to run with it and do our best to fit into this world as normal females. Where we differ is that Erica has always known her sexual leanings. She liked and admired girls, but her physical attraction was to other boys. As for me, there was this intense physical attraction for Julia ... that undeniable chemistry between us. But I had this overwhelming obsession with dressing myself up, and I couldn't get why she felt threatened. Then, for years I was able to convince myself that another boy could find me that appealing, if I could only be an attractive girl like her. My only regret is that I never fully explored my male sexuality with Julia. Who knows how differently things might have worked out? But other priorities got in the way, didn't they? Whatever - it's all water under the bridge now, and I'm SO glad I got to experience sex as a male, even for that brief time. It can never happen again, that's for damn sure. I made my bed, so to speak, and I get to sleep in it for the rest of my life! ***** So there you have it - sometimes the course of our lives can be decided by the most innocuous things ... like having a bad case of acne. Or going along with a gag. Or both! But it's whether we 'step up to the plate' and take responsibility for our choices, which determines whether the outcome is positive or negative. Like I said, I'm pretty cool with my life as a woman - I mean, I have the physical attributes to convince anyone, and I love doing my hair and nails and makeup and adorning my body with pretty clothes and accessories, and having people tell me I'm beautiful. And I'm married to exactly the kind of man I would have wanted to be in another life, and we have a profound love for each other. AND ... I have two amazing children who accept me as their mother - how cool is that? So do I seem unsatisfied? I really don't know - maybe just a little. I guess it's something inside all of us. Something that makes us wonder if the grass really IS greener on the other side of the fence. Dr. Westerman once told me about some of the patients he counselled who were deeply unhappy being male. They felt so much pressure to perform a certain way and up to a certain standard of success, and their lives felt like one big straightjacket. Their perception of women was that they had more control over their lives - they were free to live as they pleased, dress as they pleased, and all they needed for financial security was their looks and a certain something between their legs. Hah! If spending more than half my life as a female has taught me anything, it's that most women feel the same way, but vice versa. I won't deny that my looks give me an unfair advantage ove