Many don’t understand the meaning of grace and what it means to be gracious. Yet countless numbers of my sisters have lived their lives expressing that undefined grace with their masculine selves. You see, grace is more than just being poised and elegant. It’s more than how you move and it certainly is not about being honorable. If that’s what it was about then we would just use those words.
In the lives of crossdressers, particularly those who have found a significant other, they have usually made a sacrifice. They’ve chosen to diminish, suppress, repress, or whatever word you choose to use, that side of themselves that doesn’t match the exterior. This is what I did for over 30 years. You may wonder, how in the world does someone do that and not come to a catastrophic end? I thought about this for many years and there was a song that always came to mind that helped me understand it better and too calm my spirit. In the song More Than A Feeling by Boston, Tom Scholz penned the line…
When I'm tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
And dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
I very easily could change the subject of the lines to Cloe Anne and I know I would see grace walking out the door to give Drabby his life. You see in my interpretation of this song, Cloe Anne was expressing the ultimate in feminine grace through a self-sacrifice in allowing him to have full control. So she just walked away so he didn’t have to struggle.
After all, this is how I interpreted the teachings of those around me. The woman digressed and allowed the man to be the one who shined. She became subservient. But this was a fallacy. In a relationship the man and woman are partners and they strike a balance. Yet Drabby did not understand this gracious person and so he set about building his life with his right hand tied behind his back.
In the Spring of 2015 with the waning of parental life evident after our last child left home, Cloe asked to have some time to be herself and Drabby acquiesced. Yet several months later the door was shut hard when one of the children moved back home. Drabby had finally sensed the loss he had suffered by not having his inner partner there at his side all these years and catastrophe was at the doorstep. He began to explode inside and it seethed over the brim and impacted his family. He had finally reached the crisis he had feared when Cloe had walked away all those years ago. He knew it was time to come to terms with the truth that he was a crossdresser.
Wait, was that it? Was Cloe not more than just a pile of clothes hidden in a box in the attic? No, Drabby was still very much controlling the dialogue as it was the only way he knew to handle it. Yet Cloe continued to assert herself. She convinced that Drabby it was time to shave his face for the first time in years. She then set about finding a replacement for the hair he had allowed time to erase and ordered her first wig with an awful result. On the second try, she found it. The auburn head of hair that she always knew was hers and Cloe Anne said no more walking away, you are alive. She pleaded with Drabby in her soft and feminine way for months. Seeking out women whom she admired for their strength, poise, and elegance, she showed him that she was a woman of substance and not just a fantasy or fetish. She showed him how he had missed the point of acts of sacrifice as a measure of love from her. Sure he had done it for his wife, time and time again, but he never did it for this side of my life. Suddenly Drabby realized what he had done and what they needed to do.
In August of 2017, in the ultimate act of feminine grace by Drabby, I became a complete person. Drabby admitted we were transgender as the label the world uses. Cloe Anne Webb is who I became at last.
Cloe, I've read many stories of those who have accepted their inner self. However, you have written this in a very different way that conveys your feelings very well. Welcome to the bright side of the road!
I interpret your actions as learning to love yourself and something I had to also acquire before I could move forward with a real sense of purpose
Sophie, you are spot on. I had to learn how to love myself then learn how to put it into action. I do have to finish a chapter before I move on to the next, yet like most stories they run in parallel. A new sense of purpose indeed is how I feel and I sense many new endeavors and challenges await, yet I finally will be able to meet them as my whole self, scars and all.
Cuppy, I read you words and they hit points of familiarity within my story too. I completely understand that putting away of the other side of you.
Over 25 years ago I first saw the woman within me. I stood staring into the mirror and I felt whole. Then I saw my wife's face in the mirror and it was one filled with fear. She didn't see me there and it scared her. For her I put Sarah away. I didn't even have a name then, she was just a spirit buried within me theta didn't match the outer shell. It was just a few years go I found myself again. And Ill be damned if I want to put Sarah away again, but I fear that I'm succumbing to a familiar pressure to be "normal".
Sarah.
Sarah, thank you for sharing this. That call to be 'normal' is strong, but we are stronger. Your path is yours alone, but I am happy to be your friend in sharing and caring for what lies ahead and where you have been, I've certainly seen that same fear on my wife's face and it is heart wrenching I know. You are two hearts joined, yet you are still two individuals trying to make the best out of life. But it does have to be what is best for you. Keep searching and you will find that path that has your answer.
Cloe,
I submitted this as an article on CDH when I first joined and was told it was a bit esoteric for the site. My response now is esoteric or not women's spirituality has and always will be a part of my path during transition as it has been part of my path for the last 20 years. Part of this came from the idea of Hozier's song Better Love.
Self Imposed
Self-imposed exploitation of my feelings, desires, and dreams, knowing how alone I’ve lived, unexplained, unexplored, unfamiliar to my family and friends. Living in fear, dreading each day, waking to a nightmare, a surreal and tormented hallucination. The secret tribulation of my life, all my born days from the cradle, life descending, perilously spiraling every moment and every moment between moments, to my final resting place.
I perceived myself as a miscreation, a monstrosity, Frankenstein, contrived by my own narcissism, my identity, gender, self-esteem, expression, were forged on an anvil of lies. His name was Fear, the blacksmith forging a weapon, tempering out its edges named Anger and Hate. For decades, that hammer named Whip pounded with every blow, wailing like that of a tuning fork, shrieking, “Bound!”, “Shackled!”, “Slave!”, Always keeping perfect time, a tempo of dismay. Yet Fear faltered, his whip landed its final assault with too much force upon the corpus of my consciousness, this false “I” shattered.
Trembling, naked, and afraid in the barren desert of my cold, dark, and deluded mind, the mirage faded, providence interceded in the nick of time. Too feeble to endure, alone, and sobbing, I beckoned for her aid, seeking absolution, without the confession of any of my sins. I offered a shred of evidence my desires and my dreams, this love inside that still remained for me. She shared with me and said, “That’s the only love that you will ever need,” that there was no finer love, no greater or more accomplished love than that love which I should have for myself.
I offer thanks unto her in grateful recognition for all she shared with me, providing counsel, helping to build my self-esteem. Now, family and friends know I’m not the gender they always knew me to be. I could no longer live that way, angry with my self, hating how I felt. I am no longer bound by the gender assigned to me from birth or shackled to poor self-esteem, no longer a slave to express myself as others would have me do. And I repeated what she shared with me, “There’s no finer love, there’s no greater love, there’s no more accomplished love than that love that I share, with thee as me.”
I return back to that desert in my mind, now that I’ve had some time, and it is not so cold, dark, and desolate anymore. I find myself not laid out on an anvil, a victim being forged. Instead, I’m prostrating at her altar beseeching self-forgiveness. She appears standing, clothed befitting a goddess, in a pose of determined prowess, and she tells me, “Sit and clear your mind, think of it no more, try letting go, suffer not, scourge yourself no more. Embrace as a child your genesis swelling inside. Dream, to dream of manifested dreams, live life in rapturous joy, and cherish her, this woman that you are.”.
I ask, “My daughter asked for none of this, how do I forgive myself?”. Again she answered me, “Mia, get up from these sands, rise and stand with me,” taking my hand, she guided me to my feet. And continued, “Now stand with pride and certainty, in full-dress as you were always meant to be, share wholly of your self with her, help her accomplish all her dreams, share your joy of living, and cherish every moment and every moment between moments that you have with her.” Again she shared with me, “That’s the only love that you will ever need, and that there was no finer love that I could ever have for her, that there was no greater love that I could ever share with her, that there was no more accomplished love, I could ever give her, then that love I already have for her.”
Mia West
Thank you Mia. The struggle is so very real whether it be expressed esoterically or obviously. I feel for you and the tortuous journey you've endured. Mine was rather quite numb as I intentionally acquiesced to that which I had been taught was the only way for me. I hope for you that your new found joy is abounding and fulfilling.
Esoteric or not; lotta great lines “Seeking absolution without confession of any is my sins”
is my favorite. You expressed a lot of feelings describing me also. Better in fact than I could’ve described myself🙂 No two paths are the same but I’ve stepped in more than a few of your footprints. So, well written.
xx Shanda
Cloe Anne Webb, a woman of the people, an inspiration to those who struggle, a role model for those who travel the road one step at a time, and a gift to both Crossdresser Heaven and Transgender Heaven. Using that metaphor for what these sites aspire towards, that would make Cloe one of our true angels.
Let us all enjoy the opportunity we have been provided, to build a positive and inclusive community, that aims to connect people with others who understand their pain, their struggle, the sting of rejection and ridicule, and the truth in their journey.
Thank you, Cloe, for providing the first article in the new Transgender Heaven and opened our gates with a garland of flowers where different shapes, colors, and fragrances make that garland beautiful.
Thank you Cap for all your words of encouragement and seeing something in me when others still doubted. I certainly understand their trepidation now. Emotional and spiritual support is so much more rewarding and challenging than the technical support I've spent a lifetime on. I couldn't have asked for a better group of ambassadors to work with. Crossdresserheaven was a godsend in my life that helped me to finally explore the depths of breadth of who I am, a transgender woman who has a heart full of compassion and love to give. I will forever identify with those who live a lifetime struggling and making choices to please others at the expense of their own truth. Yet I know it was just a manifestation of that same sacrificial love that has not waned in the least.
Cloe, thank you so much for your friend request, and I’ve been reading your posts, and what immediately hit home was your statement above about making choices to please others at the expense of their own truth....
I look forward to reading and writing with you...
Jan
You're welcome, Jan. I'm glad my words meant something to you. I'm actually not a very prolific writer, but more of a conversationalist. I suppose I could stand to have someone spurring me on.
Cloe what a beautiful and poetic expression of the struggle to be yourself - all of yourself!
Thank you for sharing, and thank you for continuing to shine your light for others to follow! <3
Thank you for sharing your journey Vanessa. I'm not a prodigious writer myself, but this was a subject that was just bursting to be told. I find myself searching for a new song to be 'mine', but this time it will be one of hope and love.
Lovely article Cloe. Not too much more to say. Your journey is different than mine, but we both are on a journey of discovery.
Hugs,
April
Hugs April. That is the beauty of life. We are all so individual and unique. I sure hope there's no other April out there cause I love the one I know and have met.
Cloe
Cloe~
Welcome Home.
