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Greetings!!
I am Samantha. I am a 52 year old, pre-everything except the realization that I am Samantha, woman.
My story is very familiar and similar to many that I have read, so it’s not particularly groundbreaking for those that have experienced it.
I grew up in a small town in a more conservative area of a liberal state to a family with severely homophobic members. It was the 70s and 80s, so they hadn’t learned about transphobia yet, but they did, were, and still are. And I don’t care. I would love to be able to change their minds, but that ship sailed and I can’t let it be my issue.
Constantly attacked for being different, I learned the survival technique that many in the community have, how to blend in and “man up”, all the while still feeling hollow and dissatisfied. Existing, rather than living.
While my bigoted family members weren’t aware of transgender men and women, I read voraciously and at some point had come across the words and concepts and they FASCINATED me!! I told a friend recently that representation matters and seeing and reading about women that felt similar to me meant the world to me. But again, my secret hidden feelings were never to be discussed out loud.
I joined the Navy right out of high school and kept myself busy so I didn’t have time to explore and embrace Samantha. Nor could I have as DADT wasn’t even a thing yet, they would just separate you. I enjoyed the Navy made some great friends, had a successful career, and as I grew, I found opportunities to explore the woman inside. Samantha time was cherished, but also dismissed as a weird fetish. After hiding for so long, I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Although, anytime I would ask myself if I could have three wishes, what would they be, the answer to the first wish NEVER changed. And that was to be a woman.
I met a wonderful woman, got married, had kids, and tried to keep Samantha buried and hidden. I had told my wife about my explorations with men, so she was aware of some things, but we were newly married and I was still trying to be a “man” and kept some things to myself. Hindsight is always 20/20 and I wish I had been more open (that’s a current #2, the #1 spot is filled.)After twenty years of hiding and sneaking in Samantha time when I could (not often), I finally broke down and bought Samantha her first pretty bra. I got sloppy, I left the bag and the receipt in the closet and one day my wife found it.
I got a call at work that was a tear-filled request to come home NOW. I cancelled my meetings and raced home, dreading what I would find. The damn hanger and receipt. She was still crying when she asked, “What’s this?” and “Who is she?” I steeled myself to tell her the truth, I really did. I was going to come fully clean and let her know about Samantha. But lifelong hiding and suppression are difficult to overcome and Samantha didn’t actually have a name then. So I told her I liked to crossdress sometimes and that it was mine and no one else’s. I have not now and will not cheat on my wife, but I did feel like I was the other woman.
I didn’t handle it well and her reaction threw me into a tailspin of depression and self-loathing that I still haven’t fully recovered from, but I am nearly out of that hole and have given Samantha a name and permission to be a part of my life and it buoys me during the turbulent times. I still haven’t opened up to my wife, but I know I have to do it soon. Samantha is me and I am her, and I want to live not exist.
I hope my wife will understand and support me, but I’m better prepared now to accept it if she doesn’t. I want her to be happy and if Samantha doesn’t make her happy, I’ll have to learn to live with that too.
So Samantha is going to get her time to shine and live HER life, the one I denied her for so long.
Sincerely,Samantha
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