TRANSVESTIA
"Now?" She nodded. "I feel right. I mean I feel that this is only a part of me but it is an important part and a part that needs to be expressed. I have been afraid of dressing since I was afraid of your scorn, your laughter, your rejecting this part of me. I haven't heard you laugh, though, not yet."
She smiled again. "How could I laugh when you look so authentic, so female. I suppose I wanted to laugh at you enough to ... well... enough to ... try to ridicule you ... But you are not ridiculous." She went back and sat down. "Do you mean that you dress this way and then just sit around the apartment all day?"
"There is not much else that I can do. Oh I practice makeup and dress and voice and such."
"Voice? What do you mean by voice. That's your voice that I hear now. What do you practice with your voice?"
I had been speaking in my normal voice ever since she had come in. It had not occurred to me to raise it since, well, I had been caught in the act and the jig was up and all that. Now that I thought of it, it was sort of strange that I had not spoken in the higher range. I then and there shifted my mental gears to high range and answered in the higher, softer voice that for years I had been cultivating. "Why to speak like this, of course." I could see that her reaction had been almost physical. I decided, however, to leave the range where it was and remained in the light higher lilt of speech. "I have practiced a long time so that not only the appearance is right but also that the voice is right. I always erased the tapes after I had made them so that you or anyone else would not have known it even if you had picked up one of my tapes. You would probably have accused me of having an affair with some other woman if you had not known it was me. What would have happened if you had come in a few minutes later when I had my wig on. You could, no doubt, recognize me, but it would not be immediate, that I know. How would you feel then, huh? I can't really say, probably never will be able to say fully what all of this... my hand swept up the skirt, the blouse, ending up fluffing the wig a bit, "means to me." I rose again and headed for the kitchen. "Time for the morning cup of coffee?"
She followed me into the kitchen and continued quizzing me on my dress, the lingerie, the makeup, where and how I had bought them
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