Since I was 11 years old, I have wondered why I wasn’t born a girl.  It was more than that, actually; I wanted to be a girl. Sadly, of course, I had the wrong plumbing, and to make matters worse, I began having these desires in 1940, just as the U.S. was gearing up for World War II.  It was an era in which boys had to be boys and gear themselves to eventually go fight a nasty war. It was no time for a boy to be anything but manly. Why, I wondered then, did I desire to dress as a girl?

I was able to venture a few times into the attic where I sneaked into some of mom’s skirts and dresses. There I discovered how truly girlish I could look, due largely to my slender, softish arms and my pretty legs (according to some snide remarks I had heard when in shorts). In 1940, the idea that a boy could become a girl was about as far-fetched as getting to the moon was then.  So I dreamed.  And I wrote.

At first, I scribbled my snippets of stories on school paper, writing in my room, hiding my efforts from my two nosey brothers and my mom and dad, usually tearing them up into pieces when I was done. No one must ever find out about my weird desires to be a girl. Of course, I worked at being a “normal boy,” playing ball (never very well, to be sure) and picking up usual male skills. To pay my way through college, I worked for a beer distributor, hustling case beer and 184-pound half barrels in the warehouse, and as a truckdriver delivering to taverns and stores. I further proved my manhood through Navy service, marrying, fathering five children and becoming by all who might have noticed, a “normal” man.

Into that busy, family-filled life, I found a few spare moments to dress in my meager stash of panties, bras, stockings, skirts and blouses, always hiding my efforts in shame. I always wrote, continuing to hide my efforts so that they’d not be found; nor would anyone ever read them either.  My stories became a way for me to dream and to make the dreams become more real.

Finally, about 15 years ago I discovered there were websites that featured authors writing about crossdressers and transgirls.  First it was fictionmania and then bigcloset and a few other sites where I found an opportunity to post my stories. Since then, writing under the name of Katherine Day, I have published numerous short stories, several novellas and seven novels.  (Check them out, if you wish.  Meanwhile look over the stories of other writers; there are some real gems if you look)

All, of course, are written about boys, young men and older men who are finding their femininity. I find myself invariably living through the heroines I create; they become me; it’s an intoxicating venture – and a welcome respite from the cares of one’s daily life. Of course, neither I, nor any of the other writers, are paid for these efforts; it just seems we must write these, and we’re happy if someone else reads them and finds value in them.

As long as I have a breath, I’ll be writing these stories, learning as I type away about the wonders of being a woman.






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    Born in 1929, grew up in the Great Depression and began wondering about why I wasn't a girl. I ventured, feeling terribly guilty, into mom's dresses in the attic of our home and found great comfort and solace. It was a great refuge for an nonathletic boy of 11 who found he was far more feminine in body and spirit than was "proper" at the time. Boys then were to be strong, masculine, not weak and tending toward tears. Soon the Army would beckon we all knew. Despite living an outwardly masculine life working in macho jobs and marrying to a wonderful woman (five children), my desires to be female never left me. Been a closeted crossdresser since. Love to share my experiences with others.

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    Peggy Ann Culpepper
    5 years ago

    Hello, Katie—1929(is that fiction?) LOL hEll i was born in 1940 on a farm in the south. You talk about straight laced-Duh. That we even survived in and with our feelings as being girls is amazing in its self. That we can today be our true selves is just Super Duper. I think our message to all our Young Beautiful Girl friends out there is this. Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. Be bold when You can and always be true to Yourself. The road to true happiness may be long, rough and there may be lots of dead… Read more »

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