When I was around the age of five or so, one of my sister’s best friends came to to live with us.  I didn’t know all the reasons why until I was older.  My mother actually went ahead and adopted her legally.  I won’t go into all the reasons for what seemed then to be such a crucial and important situation.  Talking with my sister last night, I explained that I had become a member of what I believe to be a very elite social club for Crossdressers, Transgender, and even me, a Crossdressing Drag Queen.  I explained the forums, the articles, and the many other qualities of Crossdresser Heaven.  I even gave her the URL so she could check it out and read some of the articles and things for herself.  Asking her if she would mind if I wrote this article today, she told me to go for it as long as I left some parts out.  (Us ladies must have our secrets.)

My sister has always been a huge support to me and someone in whom I always have been able to trust and confide.  Even before she moved in with us, she was always on my side.  Every time I got angry with one of my other sisters (I have four), she would jump in and defend me.  It was only afterward that she would tell me to straighten up.  Anyway, as one can imagine, she quickly became my favorite and later my inspiration and in some ways mentor.

I was getting into everything of my sister’s by the age of nine or ten.  By twelve, I think that I may have tried on and worn practically everything she owned including her makeup.  In fact, there were a few things I believe I wore more than her.  Elaine would come into my room and ask me if I had been into her makeup, clothes, perfumes, and other things.  No I would say, why would I get into those things?  My other sisters believed wholeheartedly that I was the culprit for missing things like eyeliner, mascara, foundation, eye shadow and so much more.  I think every one of them had asked me if I was wearing makeup more times than I could count, usually because I had not gotten it all off.  You know how eyeliner and mascara have a way of mysteriously reappearing on your eyes, even when you were sure you got it all off.  She was always so mellow about it whereas my other sisters became raging maniacs about it.  Elaine would always stick up for me though, even when she knew I had done something wrong.  She spoiled the crap out of me is what she did, and I could not help but love it and take advantage of it.  She would take me with her a lot of the time to places like her friends’ houses, the salon (which for some reason I loved), shopping (which I also loved doing), and even cruising downtown in my mom’s car a few times.

It was mainly Elaine who finally convinced my mother to stop having my hair cut after more arguing and yelling than I care to remember.  It was the 70’s and long hair on guys was the cool norm.  I think it had been growing for around two years when one day while at the salon with Elaine, I pointed to a hairstyle on the wall and leaned over to say “I want my hair like that.”  After some whining and fake almost-ready-to-cry signs, she said “Okay, are you sure?”.  I told her I was more than sure, and she agreed to pay have my hair styled for the very first time.  As expected, my mother freaked out when she saw my hair.  It was still long, but layered, feathered, stacked, and had highlights which were pretty much called a frost back then.  She asked me who did it?  I told her.  How much?  I told her.  When?  I told her.  Then she asked if Elaine had any say in it.  I told my mother no, and that I had went and had it done on my own with my own money.  I asked her to quit freaking out.  She thought I would get harassed and picked on by other kids because of my appearance.  She was convinced that I was was doing whatever it took to look like a girl, which in truth I was.  If only she could have seen me when I was wearing makeup, a skirt, heels, and other accessories.  She would have really freaked out.  But once more, I defused the situation and conversation and went on about my way.

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My whole reason and point in writing this article are to express my love and respect for my sister, Elaine.  I love my other sisters as well, but I have never bonded with them as I have with Elaine.  The day I chose to confide in her and tell her all there was to tell was one of the most frightful days of my whole fifteen years of being alive.  And tell all is what I did.  Even though I trusted her and knew she would not tell anyone unless I consented, I was scared and nervous as all hell.  I decided that I would not go crazy with the makeup or get dressed like a raging queen, but I was going to be apparent and obvious.

When I walked into Elaine’s room, she looked up at me and said, “What’s up, Cricket (my nickname growing up)?”  I walked over to a chair and sat down waiting for her to say something about the way I looked.  After all, I was wearing makeup, a woman’s pullover shirt, a pair of “her” heels, jewelry, and earrings.  Instead she sat there looking at me, and asked again what was up as though I was not dressed the way I was.  I finally started spewing out everything.  And I do mean everything including that I was convinced I was gay, and that I had somewhat of a boyfriend whom I was seeing on a regular basis.  After about twenty to thirty minutes of non-stop confessions, I finally came to a stop.  Elaine sat looking at me for what seemed to be the longest few seconds I had ever experienced, then finally put her arms around me as tight as could be.  When she finally leaned back and came face to face with me, she said, “I know,” and “It’s okay.”  She shared that she had known for a long time, but would not bring any of it up until I stepped up and told her.  How fortunate I was to have her in my life.  She stood right beside me when I began telling my mother and my other sisters.

That was forty-two years ago, but Elaine and I still remain closer than my other sisters.  She lives in Seattle now which seems so far away.  We talk all the time, but just don’t see one another very much.  My other sisters live somewhere else as well so it seems like I am the only one still here.  I have always been a little more sensitive and sentimental than your average All-American boy next door, and today is no exception.  I feel the tears running down my cheeks whenever we come to the end of our conversations and say goodbye.  I miss being close to her, and not being able to get in the car and drive a mile or two to visit.  She has chosen a couple of professions with which not many people agree.  But I do because it is who she is.  I accept and respect her choices as she has so openly and lovingly accepted mine.  I think my sister knows how much I deeply love and admire her, but I want to tell her again anyway. My sister, I love you with all my heart, and I am truly grateful that you made your way into our lives, especially mine.  Thank you for just being you and letting me be me.




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Jewelry Artisan, cocktail waitress, part time escort. at Emerald Club, Shuckeys Club
It's safe to say that my life & lifestyle" were chosen for me before I even knew the plan! My belief has always been that I / we didn't choose our lifestyle but that we were born this way. I guess there are many who don't see it this way and make many attempts to fight or change our fate. I however did listen to it and began to follow directions at a early age. For me as with so many other Cross Dressing, Drag and LGBTQ+ lifestyle began around 8 years old. Well LGBTQ+ followed soon after. My sexuality was confirmed at 15 after having my first encounter. It couldn't have been more apparent. Answers to my own questions I carried with me for some time were answered that day. My coming out debut was like a huge weight lifted from me immediately when I stood before my mother and sister's and confessed everything. All of they're suspicions were brought to life. Getting into all my sister's things, wearing they're clothes, makeup and everything else they owned I admitted to. I had always thought I was so sneaky and left no evidence. But I hadn't been. They knew all along. There was so much evidence. There were so many times and situations throughout a long course of time had added up and grown in such big numbers it had to have been impossible to keep track. For example all my posessions in my bedroom like makeup, nail polishes, hair tools, my clothing, shoe, boots, pictures and posters on my walls, etc. If anyone who had walked into my room didn't or couldn't recognize that "there was something different about Jackie" they would have been stupid and or very nieve. I always came up with an excuse as to why anyone seen what there was to see in every corner nook and cranny of my room. I did eventually begin to wonder how they really thought. I I had been put on front street and drilled with questions practically on a daily basis. I had slowly become too relaxed and stopped trying to keep everything hidden. Beside the fact that everything had become too impossible to hide. So confessing to all of what seemed at the moment to be so long actually only took minutes to admit it all to be true. Thats as short of my story I can put down to you. I have only a few regrets of mistakes I have made overtime but who I am is not one of them. Enjoy, have fun and be yourself and if you can't do that right now then pretend until you can!

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Renee T
Renee T
6 years ago

Hi Jackie. What an incredible story. Like you I had 4 sisters growing up and though they were all different sizes in height I would try one the ones that I knew would fit me the best without ruining them. It is so great that the one who came into your life was the one you could confide in. Hopefully you are still able to wear what you feel the most comfortable in and enjoy life.

Love Renee
PS, I still get my hair done at a local beauty salon and would never want to go anywhere else.

Joanna Knight
5 years ago

I find it hard to tell anyone in my family that I crossdress and that I love how I feel when dressed ! I have even gone as far as having been with a guy a few times and enjoyed it a lot ! The last time I saw him I was dressed in a blue sleeveless dress that came to just above me knees , thigh highs and short boots , and a dark brown wig ! He treated me like I was a woman and I loved it! We had sex and it so good and felt vary… Read more »

Jen Kelly
5 years ago

That is great. Your lucky to have such support, as is she

Annie Jackson
4 years ago

A wonderful story, Jackie. Thanks so much for sharing. Everyone needs a sister like Elaine! She deserves this lovely tribute that you wrote for her … and a big hug from us all!

Daisy Marie
Active Member
3 years ago

Hey Jackie,
Thank you for telling us this wonderful story with your sister.
I started wondering here what if I had had a sister like Elaine. Surely things would have been far easier for me and it’s very likely everyone had already known Daisy and, perhaps, I wouldn’t be so fearful of coming out.

T.J. Byron
T.J. Byron
2 years ago

Jackie…. I did enjoy your article. I am an author of many articles, some in magazines, medical journals, newspapers and here on CDH. I LOVE Hearing others stories of their journey. There are always so many common experiences and expectations. At 75 in October, I have been dressing in public since the 1960’s, in my 20’s. My wife and I have an Instructional School for CDers. We teach soup to nuts about CDing. She’s a Westmores of Hollywood grad, MUA. WE ARE IN Poulsbo WA! You said you have relatives in Seattle. We collaborate with TRANSPACE SEATTLE for services in… Read more »

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