I was shy about it at first. I was adopted; my birth mother mom gave me up for adoption, though I did reunite with her the day before Christmas when I was 15. It was a usual story; she gave birth to me and said she couldn’t take care of me. I understand this and wasn’t mad at her.

My adoptive parents brought me into a loving home when I was about a month old in 1978. I was glad for them as they let me figure myself out. I was shy about it for a long time, and it changed when I was 12. I remember watching my mom and sister (who is also adopted) do their nails, and this interested me.

Then one day, I discovered my mom’s makeup. I remember watching her put it on and decided to put it on. Mom caught me and asked what I had gotten myself into. She wasn’t angry at all, even commenting that I discovered something; I had a female side to me. I realized she was right. I did get the makeup off before my dad got home from work. She told him about it, and I thought he was going to be angry at me. He wasn’t, and we had the talk after supper. What we discussed was how he said that he would always be there for me no matter what. It taught me everyone is different in a good way, and I found something out about myself. It was a good conversation with him, and he was right too.

Finally, I did get to dress up as a girl; they had a dress as the opposite gender day at school. I wore a nice top and jeans that mom bought for me at a second hand store. I borrowed a bra from my sister that was a little too big for her, and stuffed it with junk pantyhose my mom had laying around. A little makeup and how I loved it when I saw myself dressed as a girl, completed by the wig I put on.

After that, the crossdressing started. After high school, I thought maybe that I was transgender; the answer was no, at first. After my divorce four years ago, I did some research and concluded that I was bigender. I have always wanted to be Debra fulltime and held on to it. The month before Christmas, I came out as bigender; it was time to do it. I couldn’t suppress it anymore. So far, everything is going good, and I’m now happy living as Debra fulltime.

It was tough at first for one person in my life, my 18 year old son. The good thing is that he overcame it and now accepts me. I gave him some space and time to think things over. He does see that I am completely happy as Debra, and we have a good relationship. My plans in the future are to stay fulltime as Debra, but not begin HRT. This is how far I want to go, and I feel that HRT isn’t for me. I am not going back to my old life ever again, I consider my old life as a male, dead. I don’t regret it. To be honest about it, living the rest of my life as Debra is in my plans, which has worked well so far.

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Debra Guild

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Leslies Ann Gray Girl
Lady
Member

Good for you Debra , i hope all is and stays well with you . Sounds to me like you made the right choice in life , and i wish you much happiness . Leslie

Kathy Jackson
Lady
Member

I wish you a life of joy and comfort as Debra, You are a brave girl. Lots of us are full of envy!

Tiff Any
Lady
Active Member

How fabulous , raised in an understanding family & your son is understanding , beautiful

Lucinda Hawkns
Lady
Active Member

that was so exciting story about your foster parents excepting you as a girl and dressing up as one. wish my wife would be the same way help with make up and except my x dressing. HRT is not for me tho. I under dress a lot during the winter time. when I get out of bed its all female cloths first then my boring male cloths over them. for I have a 22 year old son still living at home. no one knows of it as far as I know. my daughter seen a pic of me dressed up,… Read more »

Diana Istali
Lady
Member

Good choice and you sound confident in your decision.

skippy1965 Cynthia
Ambassador
Trusted Member

Great article Debra and thanks for sharing your story. Congrats on finding your place in the community that makes you comfortable after trying different things. I m still figuring out where my path is leading me but I know Cyn is always going to be the biggest part of me in one form or another.
Cyn

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