The Internet Changed Everything
The internet gave me a chance to dip my toe into the waters of a community. By that point, I already knew I wasn’t the only person in the world who felt the way I did about my gender identity—something I still saw as fetishistic at the time.
I was young and naïve and I didn’t fully grasp the darker corners of the so-called ‘virtual world.’ Off I went, chasing a sense of connection, and in the process, I made what felt like a devil’s bargain. I gained access to spaces that were often harmful or twisted, all in the name of finding community — while trying desperately to stay anonymous. For a long time, this corrupted online universe made me feel like my need to present as a woman was not only a fetish, but a curse rather than a blessing.
I didn’t have the language, the knowledge, or even the willingness to name what I was experiencing. I buried my feelings, trying to protect myself from truths I think, deep down, I already knew but refused to acknowledge. Fear was in control, and I wasn’t remotely ready to face it.
I never fully gave in to the darker path. I tried to steer conversations toward something deeper, something more meaningful — which made it incredibly difficult to connect with anyone. Most of the men in those spaces were only interested in what was (and maybe still is) called cybersex, and that never felt right to me. Even those who identified as male-to-female trans, cross-dressers, or gender-fluid seemed mostly after a cheap thrill. Whatever their gender, most of the people on those sites were exactly who you’d expect them to be.
There was the occasional and increasingly rare find of a great individual, but much more difficult to find and build any kind of connection with them in this virtual space. I have managed to locate perhaps three people over the course of some fifteen years with whom I could interact where it did not become some kind of tawdry experience. Hardly a positive record. Worse still, these folks lived very far away and the chance of building anything resembling a real community and close friendship would prove impossible.
Through this long slog, and ever so slowly, I was coming to understand my true gender identity and sense of self and I continued to seek out the people who would truly accept and embrace me for being me. All of me. That consumed a lot of time and as a result, other areas of my life suffered — particularly my efficiency at work.
Through it all, I continued to compartmentalize my life. My wife is the only one that has come close to getting and sharing all of me, but we both put up virtual barriers to my presentation through many years. Like the virtual spaces of the Internet, I felt more and more like I was living two lives. Life is challenging enough, but living two lives is stressful and I think it contributed to a serious physical breakdown.
Facing Mortality and Decisions
I never felt that being alone was negative. I rather enjoyed being alone because it was incredibly liberating. Alone time meant I could be the complete version of self, at least to one person—myself. Over time, that proved to be inadequate, because being alone only goes so far. We all need community.
While being alone was often times positive, nothing prepares you for those words and the loneliness of being diagnosed with cancer.
What did I do wrong? Did I get sick because I didn’t exercise enough? Was I eating the wrong things? Sure, I smoked as a kid for a few years, but that was decades ago. I don’t drink or take illicit drugs. My god, what did I do wrong to get such a diagnosis in my 40s? I am stressed and filled with anxiety but I don’t really feel stressed, right? Has God decided to punish me because I dress and feel like I should be a woman?
These are all the thoughts, fears, doubts and questions I was enduring and while there was a pathway out of it, I was naturally terrified. Coming up to the surgery, and recovery afterwards, I felt for the first time the weight of regret and the feeling that I had cheated myself of my best version and the best life I could live. I promised myself and God I would be more true to myself.
I fulfilled that promise. I began seeing a therapist for the first time to discuss what I was feeling. Just the act of being able to have a clear, honest dialogue with someone about all of this — not in the virtual world, but out front, eyeball-to-eyeball — was the start of easing some of my stress and anxiety.
I managed to venture out a bit — in front of others, in a safe space, where other cross-dressers, and trans individuals came together. It was satisfying and positive and provided a very bright, quick flash of what ‘all of me’ looked and felt like. The challenge was making the time consistently to be the complete self. I did not do enough of that — and only attended a couple of meetup groups as a result. While I struggled to meet others and get to know them, I was still providing myself an opportunity to begin exploring a deeper sense of the true and best version of self.
As I began to understand my feelings—and find the courage to even just admit it all to myself—I began to communicate more openly with my wife. While it was a challenge, we very slowly worked together to move ahead. Credit where it is due, my wife and best friend evolved with me; we often forget that those around us also transition along with us.
Eight years later, cancer returned and this time, the procedure would require a full week in the hospital and a solid month to really get my legs back under me. Again, as I lay waiting in my bed in the hospital, not sure if I would even wake up this time, those deep feelings of a life wasted came back to me and filled me with doom and darkness—regret is a black cloud that hangs low on the soul.
I survived and with the skill of the doctors, I was allowed another chance. This time, I had to act faster. I saw my life and my clock running out of time, and I was running out of body parts! Tomorrow was no longer guaranteed and I did not have the time for half-assed approaches. After my long recovery, I promised to fulfill a lifelong dream and drive across the country and back. Once cleared by the doctors, I prepared my trip. This time, there was going to be no looking back.
Andrea, thank you for sharing your story (so far) with us, it is, at times, heart rending and yet life-affirming. Certainly, your first few paragraphs resonate with me and I have written about the horrors that await those of us who have searched online for “crossdresser community". Age, and in some cases, a reminder of our mortality, leads many of us to a “now or never" realisation and I, for one, decided that I didn’t want my last breath to be a sigh of regret. Stories like yours touch a part of us that may be called divine, compassionate, quintessentially… Read more »
I’ve just noticed that this article is credited to me, it’s not, it’s Andrea’s but there’s a glitch in the matrix! Just saying..
Allie x
Thanks so much Allie. Regret is something that some feel is inescapable. And I believe it is. But the regret of not addressing such a core, central sense of self throughout a lifetime is — at least from my perspective — tragic. Fear is powerful, but somewhere along the line, life has to be lived as authentically as possible otherwise we live an unfulfilled life — and like you have said — I do not want the end to come and spend it lamenting about a life un-lived. I think you for your kind words and continued support. It is… Read more »
@andreasm the regret of not addressing such a core, central sense of self throughout a lifetime is — at least from my perspective — tragic Andrea, you have hit upon something that has been on my mind lately. I completely agree with your statement and now, in the midst of living my best life, there is that feeling of regret. Now that the cloud that was always there has been lifted, I do regret not having the courage to address my hidden self earlier. The cloud of guilt, shame and fear that held me back from being my best, complete… Read more »
Thank you Andrea for telling your story. I’m so happy you beat cancer. I lost a loved one last year to it. God Bless You.
Thanks Terri. Appreciate you.
Bless you Andrea. I know what it’s like to deal with the Big C. Several members of my family have had to go through all the chemo and radiation. It changes you forever. In my former life we had to always adapt to the ‘new normal’ when SNAFU raised its ugly head. And that is just what cancer recovery is ‘new normal’. Be the best ‘you’ you can be. And remember, you are never really alone; “His eye is on the sparrow.."
I am very fortunate that chemo/radiation is not something I have had to endure and I hope it remains that way. I can attest to your comment about once your are touched directly by cancer, you are forever changed. I live a new normal that has its down side — but — I can also see a positive. Perhaps had it not been for the diagnosis and successful treatment — not only would I not be here; but I may have continued to try and run from the real true self. Which would have been very much no bueno. Thanks… Read more »
andrea, im so sorry you had to go through all that. will be looking forward to the next part of your story. hugs Marissa.
Thanks Marissa. I appreciate you taking the time to read it. It has been a bumpy journey at times, but the plus side is I am here now and I am grateful for the chance to live a far more authentic life and one that is greater aligned with the complete version of self. Thank you for the continued well wishes and support.
I’m happy that you beat the big C. Staring at mortality makes one realize how short life’s journey really is. My big take away is that the meter is running, go be and do everything you ever wanted to.
Thanks. And yes indeed — the meter is running. When tomorrow is not a guarantee, life’s goals become rather urgent. Thanks for reading and the support.
Understanding who you are is such a difficult thing to do when feeling alone takes various paths in whatever circumstance you find yourself in. Dependent on age it could have been trawling through the newspapers to find anything relating to dressing which was rarely sympathetic and giving the impression it was wrong. You found the same in the world of the web. It never helps when you know you aren’t being seedy or it is abnormal behaviour. At last there are better places such as C.D,H.. However and whenever you have that epiphany to start to dress and advance it… Read more »
Incredibly well said, Angela. I do recall before the web seeing a paper locally here called the Village Voice. But it was the “back page" and was far more seedy. It often times felt like such a dark underbelly of society. CDH/TGH make such a massive difference (as has Keystone). Thanks for taking the time to read the article.
Andrea… thanks for sharing this with us. We are all on a journey , some have bumpier roads than others, I’m thankful that you beat the big C !! Your story reminds me of times in my life, the places we go and places we find as we search for ourselves. There are alot of scary things out there that no one told us about, or warned us about, as we searched for ourselves . Thanks again for sharing, stay strong!! Hugs… jo
Thank you Joanna — for the support, for well wishes and for reading this.