and said he would appreciate it if I didn't bring any more women to my room. I assured him I wouldn't and resolved to be a little more careful coming and going (via the side entrance) in the future.
The doctors were finally finished with me and I returned home to Wyoming and a normal (?) life. I was still unable to work, so I took a trip to California to see my son and ex-wife. We had a long discussion about us and we decided to try it again. She followed me back to Wyo- ming and we were remarried. The following spring, we moved back to the Bay Area and I entered the University. When we were packing to move, T― noticed that I was packing some dresses in my trunk and asked what they were. I told her and we had a long discussion about TVism. Neither of us knew anything about the subject, but we at least tried to find a solution. She found some books in the Library, but they didn't help much, as most of the information was about homosexuals of which I most emphatically and definitely an NOT! She didn't like my TVism, but said no more about it at the time. T— couldn't tolerate my dressing, so I did very little of it. Only when alone and for very short periods. T— was an RN, and made an appointment with a Psychiatrist for me. I kept the appointment and we had a nice chat. When the subject of TVism came up, I told him I liked dressing, but I didn't think I was hurting any- body else by my actions and that I didn't feel that I had a mental prob- lem about it. Surprisingly, he mostly agreed with me. He didn't offer much advice as to how I should live with myself, but only cautioned me not to let my dressing "get out of hand.” I thanked him, shook hands with him and left. I wish I could remember his name I'd send him some literature now so that maybe he could help some other TV understand him/herself. Anyway, I've often wondered who paid for my visit—I know I didn't. When I told T— what the good doctor had told me, she thought we were both crazy. She left me again shortly after that. My grades went to pot, so I dropped out of school and moved to Fresno.
In Fresno, I met another RN, whom I shall call "Millie”. I took a chance one evening and told Millie that I was a TV. She couldn't be- lieve that I was until I dressed for her. We had some long talks about it. She couldn't understand why I liked to dress, but she never teased or ridiculed me. After the initial shock of seeing me dressed, she giggled a little and said, "You're-BIG-but kinda cute." As our relation- ship progressed, she started helping me by showing me a few makeup tricks; and as she was a fairly tall girl let me wear some of her clothes —which, in effect-gave me an expanded wardrobe. Millie was the home- body type and we spent several evenings a week at her apartment or my room. I liked Millie, and there was never any hanky-panky between us.
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