and, while it may not make you any happier, at least you'll be accept- ing yourself. This is a great part of the battle.

So someone close to me knew and accepted. But she loved me. How about someone else with no love to lean on? I couldn't bring myself to do it. I fought this thing as surely as a soldier fights for his life. I used every dirty trick in the book and wrote a new one in the process. And I paid for it. I'm still paying for it. Just for the record I didn't know what I was fighting. I didn't even know why I had such a terrible urge to wear dresses. I had all the wrong ideas and it was such a relief to find out how wrong I'd been that I decided to tell all my close friends, family, and neighbors. I am still "tattling" on myself. It isn't any easier with each successive telling. There are still butterflies. But the words come easier and with more assurance each time. Here's how it all started.

I found that wonderful publication, "Transvestia," in a bookstore and, after twenty years of wondering, learned what it's all about. This became my tool for chipping away the foundations of ignorance and misunderstanding we must all cope with. It was quite some time yet before I had worked up the courage necessary as this was all so new to me. But with the inspiration of others and a little determination on my own part I began to see opportunities I had previously overlooked. For instance: Almost every day there is the opportunity to defend verbally someone who has the courage to be different. If we do not we have passed up a great opportunity and we are guilty of apathy. If we ex- pect others to understand us, it should be up to us to show the way by understanding those who are being persecuted.

The most important opportunity for me happened to be the calender. As I live in a rural community there are a different set of circumstances to deal with in any situation although at certain times anything goes. And, as one of these times, Halloween, was approaching it became a most important time in my program. At that time I could lay the foun- dation for what must come later.

My first "victim" was my closest friend, a hunting companion, a good conversationalist, and a student of psychology. I felt I was putting our friendship on the line, but the reward was greater than any risk and I was pretty determined to try. So, one Sunday, I suggested it might be fun to dress as a woman for Halloween and see if I could get away with it. He agreed and was amenable to the idea of going along as a "date." Even said I'd probably look pretty good as a woman.

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