Transvestia

that was done about 45 minutes later did we get permission to talk, to circulate and to have some breakfast. After breakfast we again sat down on the floor and talked a bit and then broke into a spontaneous songfest with the usual oldies like Dina, Desert Song, Daisy, etc.

When Paul thought we had exercised our lungs enough he called a halt to the singing and we began a basic encounter session again. Various things were said by and to various people and eventually I made some comment or other which switched the whole thing to me. Paul asked a few things and eventually hit something which, due to the subject matter or the situation I don't know, caused my voice to break when I talked and my eyes to fill up with tears. As is standard practice (SOP) in such circumstances the therapist sensing that an emotional outburst was near the surface delved more pointedly into the subject matter of the moment - rubbing salt in the wound as it were in order to make it hurt more so that you will let go of your inhibitions and spill your guts out for all to see or hear. This caused me to break down and cry openly. I really didn't mind doing so and in fact rather intentionally let go because I had told myself before I even went there that I was going to be Virginia all the way and at whatever cost. So girls being emotional girls cry and being a girl I went into the role completely and just let myself break down all the way. Paul said, "Lets rock her," so they stood in two rows and picked me up between the two rows and rocked me back and forth just as they had done the night before in the pool. All this time I was sobbing for real. I suddenly became aware of tears falling on my chest and looked up to find that Paul was crying with me and looking at the other faces I could see tears on all of them, too. The fact that Paul was crying too really shook me.

I must have looked something like an old-faced teenager because my legs were crossed, the genitals out of sight, the face made up, nails painted, flower in hair, and yet my very adolescent breasts evident. I don't remember much of what I said lying there except that I was sick to death of the requirements of being a man, the decision making and living up to images and all that. Paul said that I was a beautiful human being at that moment, more beautiful than either Charles or Virginia because I was one person, honest and open. I remember replying that it was terrible to want to be beautiful from the inside knowing all the while that you wern't beautiful on the outside. After about five minutes of