RANSVESTIA

feels (if ever) it can trust doctors it will allow abortion when it is a question of saving the mother or child whoever has the best chance to live or the mother when chances are equal. But abortion mills the church can never sanction. Of course it must become more enlightened on contraception, though there again a better way may yet be found.

After Sexology I got to know Transvestia and my guilt about trans- vestism slowly evaporated, but there remains fear of discovery. At least a half dozen of my women friends and one of my priest friends and a couple of my confessors know. Most of my women friends are tolerant but not encouraging. One helped me to dress for Mardi Gras, and we had a great day. Later she told my priest friend I was a pansy. I never let on to him I knew he knew. For all I know he thinks it was a one-time thing. Another year two spinster lady friends, sisters, let me dress in their house for Mardi Gras, but didn't come with me. They did take my photo afterwards and even though I continued to visit them they never raised the subject again. As they were good traditional Catholics I'm afraid I may have scandalized them, but they were charity itself to me.

I'm always looking for acceptance from women and my next Mardi Gras was my best from a dressing point of view and I would like to tell the story as an entity in itself. I then met someone who really helped and that also is another story. If I can get to New Orleans next year she has promised to help again.

I have been running ahead, back to the early sixties. I bought clothes and hid them and even gave some away to the Salvation Army. I discovered Lane Bryant and the name has been magic to me ever since. My degree finished, I went back to Ireland. I met Alga and her understanding wife and had some good times with them. Then I left some of my treasures with Alga, and back to Africa. It was then probably I ordered the Corselette. I found African houseboys very tolerant. I'd dress for them and they would wash my underwear and tell me it was very pretty and I gave some articles to Dennis which he cherished. One time on a long trek through the forest I wore a girdle and stockings, telling my carriers the stockings were to save my legs from the insects. Of course they only lasted a few miles, but I wore them until I came close to the village. I had a lot of fun with my transvestism in Africa and it was sad to leave all that tolerance, but I suspect there is more tolerance for it then we think. My mother was

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