My Journey of Commitment
This is my short autobiography, which is a companion for Delia's story. My story is the "other half" of our whole story which illustrates how our experiences looked from my perspective. Since each of us has lived our own experiences from our unique points of view and gone through our own processes, our stories, together, give a more panoramic picture of how our paths have developed and merged.
I am known now as LariAnn Garner; since my teenage years, I have been a seeker of truth and knowledge. In earlier years, I feel that the manifestation of this was my strong interest in exploration of the natural world, and my avid desire to read. Along with being inquisitive as to the reason and purpose for my life; I also sought a vision of the future. I have often found it easy to "see" what is in store, and to fuel my imagination, I read voluminous amounts of science fiction when I was in school.
What I knew I lacked, early on, was self-esteem and confidence in myself, so, on my path, I didn't attempt to leave home until I was ready to go to college. My brothers and sister all left at or before graduation from high school. I now understand that leaving for college was, for me, a legitimate "tribally-acceptable" reason for going out on my own. At that time, what with my low self esteem and lack of confidence, I felt the need for an "acceptable" reason to detach from the tribal environment.
I also knew early on about my extraordinary sensitivity; sensitive to criticism and to my feelings. This meant, of course, that my feelings were easily hurt, and I was apt to develop intense negative feelings towards those who did hurt me. As a result of my sensitivity, lack of self esteem and lack of confidence, I grew up shy and introverted. This introversion would turn out to be the foundation for the inner work which I was going to do later in my life.
The only one who seemed to understand me as I grew up was my grandmother (my father's mother). She was religious, but didn't attend church. Instead, she would listen to religious programs both on the radio and on TV. "Gram" was as close to a non-judgmental person as I had any experience with at that time in my life, so I (and my brothers) really longed for those opportunities to stay at her house for a week or two. Needless to say, when the time came to return home, the sadness which set in was pretty intense.
One time I returned home after a stay at Grams' and, predictably, I was crying in the bedroom. My mother came to see what was the matter and I went to her, seeking some comfort. Instead, she slapped me and showed no understanding of my distress. I was younger than 10 years old at the time. Because of my sensitivity, I withdrew myself emotionally from her and feel no more for her now that I feel for any acquaintance of mine.
So with Gram I had a bond of sorts, but I also became concerned about keeping her validation and approval, so I tried as best I could to be what she wanted me to be whenever I spoke with her or visited her. My desire to be feminine was not something which I would have considered talking with her about, nor would I discuss with her things such as my studies of "occult" literature.
As far as my father was concerned, I would describe how I believe he viewed us by saying that he saw us children as "cost centers", not "profit centers". I picked up on a steady concern over finances; my father was self-employed as a technical writer, so income was not necessarily reliable from month to month. Although my father had a high IQ, his own electronics laboratory, and many books, he was not very inclined to share much with us. When I look back and realize what a bonanza of an educational opportunity he could have extended to his children, I'm amazed that he did little or nothing to pass his knowledge and expertise on to any of us.
I remember one time I was going to compete in a track race for the Boys Club and I had missed the bus. The only way I could possibly get there for the race was if my father would drive me there. He did not want to do that for me; at the time he was doing nothing more important than watching TV. I had other experiences like that with him which showed me where his priorities were.
When I was around 10 years old, my mother decided (from our point of view) to wake us up very early one morning and take us all to Puerto Rico. We had no idea what was going on; as it turns out, my mother was leaving my father. We ended up living in Puerto Rico for about a year, then my mother shipped us back to my father because she had found out that he had remarried. His new wife had children of her own and so, in a two bedroom house, we were going to be crowded. I found myself having to compete for attention, not only with my own siblings, but also with the children of my stepmother.
My search for nurture and validation became the primary focus of my seeking at the time of my adolescence and, ultimately, through college. I now believe that, because of the lack of bonding I experienced with my parents and siblings, I did not acquire the tribal connections which many get from family. For me, being tribal meant becoming a part of a team or group. Although I did learn one-on-one bonding from Gram, I felt more comfortable being completely responsible for my success or failure in an endeavor. One would think that, with an orientation like that, I would be primed to be a rebel, but because I still felt I needed approval from authority figures in my life, my rebellion was limited to things like becoming religious (churchgoing) when my parents weren't, and taking better care of my health (vegetarianism and exercise) than any of my relatives did.
When I graduated from elementary school, I began to see participation in athletics as a means to get some approval and validation. However, I did not feel drawn to, nor comfortable with, team sports. So, I became interested in gymnastics and long distance running. Eventually, I focused entirely on the running, culminating in training and racing the true marathon (26.2 miles). The symbolism of this is crystal clear to me now.
In studying Caroline Myss's material, I've learned about tribal influences one can have in life. Here's one of my experiences which rammed home to me the downside to tribal membership. (This experience occurred during my college years). I had decided to compete in a 24-hour relay, which consists of teams of people, each team trying to see how many miles they could log as a group in 24 hours. This event took place on a standard running track at Ft. Meade, Maryland. I arrived at the event by myself, and found a team of fast runners which still lacked one member (teams could have a maximum of 10 people, and it was best to have all 10 so each person would only have to run, say, about one mile per hour). The "tribal chief" of this team was very concerned about whether I was fast enough to be a member of their team. I convinced them that I was, and so the "chief" allowed me to join them.
As the event unfolded, our team was holding the 4th position out of 20 or more teams. We were in a good spot to finish in a medal position; but at about 3 or 4 in the morning, one of the other people on our team decided they were going to quit (remember what happens if there are less people on the team). When they did, it was only a matter of time before the "tribal chieftain" decided to pull the plug on the whole team effort. I was totally crestfallen and disillusioned. Here were people, so concerned about whether or not I could perform for them, deciding that they were going to give up after investing more than 15 hours of effort to the competition!
The effect this had on me was profound; I went into a depressed state for a while. Needless to say, I decided that if there was any way I could do anything about it, I was never going to let this happen to me again.
The next year, I entered the relay again, but this time I also entered the 50 mile race. That means I was entered in two races concurrently. The relay started at 12 noon and the 50 miler at 7 pm. This way I knew that, if my 24 hour team folded, I could still compete in the 50 mile run and have something to show for my efforts. This time, my team did not fold, and neither did I, so I ended up with a medal and a couple of trophies. This was a great opportunity to pick up some validation; some of the teams were military teams, and my 24 hour team gave me the honor of running the last mile. As I came around the track by the tent with the Marines, they yelled, "he loves it, he loves it!", and I felt good even though I was beyond tired.
During my adolescent years (and in college), I was on the religious side, which meant I attended church regularly. I believed that I needed to attend in order to gain approval from relatives and/or peers (I did not party or get involved with drugs while in college, even though those activities might have gotten me some approval and validation amongst many of my classmates. I now understand that I chose not to do these things because they would have violated my honor code). As far as the actual religious beliefs go, deep down I didn't really buy into much of it.
By the time I reached adolescence, I knew that I had a clear desire to be feminine, but the opportunities to express were very rare while I was at home. My strong need for acceptance and validation kept me from pursuing my desire while I was in college, although I did attend a female impersonation show which only served to fuel my longing to be femmy.
During those years, I remained diligent in pursuing activities which would get me the most approval, acceptance, and validation. Finding out who I really was, much less being myself, was not on my agenda; rather, being what other people wanted me to be (within my personal honor code) was the main objective I strove towards. I believed that, by doing so, I would stand the best chance of being accepted and validated. Unfortunately for my process of self-discovery, this meant that I would build (and fund, energetically) a persona which did not match the gender identity within me, while neglecting my true identity.
A few things I did do which were closer to being expressions of my true self were artwork and my study of botany. These involved creative expression and the love of natural beauty, which I consider are feminine attributes.
Now is a good time to interject a little about what "feminine" and "masculine" were (and are) to me. These terms have, for me, very little to do with whether a person's body is male or female. Masculine and feminine simply describe various attributes or qualities of the psyche of a persona. Cultures vary as to which attributes they will attach a label to; in some societies an attribute may be masculine while in other societies, that same attribute is considered feminine. Go figure. Males are "expected" to possess or express attributes which the society at large deems are masculine, while females must possess or express those which are deemed feminine. This is entirely arbitrary and not set in stone at all.
An early lesson in unconditional love came to me in the form of my experience with one of my college roommates. This fellow's name was G. Michael Warren, and he seemed to take me under his wing and accept me without any coercion or negotiation. We did things together; he almost always took the initiative. I felt that he was the way he was because his family had been much more supportive of him than mine had ever been. He took me home with him; we went out on his parent's small boat and enjoyed ourselves. He chose to attend church with me; to this day I don't know if he had any religious persuasion before we met, but he seemed to want to share many of my experiences with me. That relationship was the closest relationship I had had with anyone up to that time. I want to point out also that there was nothing sexual about the relationship either, for those of you who might be wondering, even though it was the most intimate of relationships I had had to that date.
Mike had a girlfriend in Illinois, with whom he was really close; he would write her every day and she would also do the same. They got married while Mike and I were both still in college, so Mike moved into the married housing area. That was, essentially, the end of our relationship, from my perspective. I felt as though I could not compete with his new wife for time with him, so even though I saw him a few times afterwards, we didn't do anything together again. I graduated, and we have been out of touch ever since. I now wish I hadn't gotten out of contact, but his name is such a common one that I doubt I could ever find him again without Divine intervention. Little did I know, at that time, that the next time I would have a relationship which was anything like the one I had with Mike, it would be the one which I would have with Delia.
Throughout my teenage and college years, I had just a few relationships with girls. Though I loved femininity, I didn't know what to do in order to succeed in dating or doing anything with females other than being their friends. I was so concerned about being accepted that I wasn't too keen on risking my heart. I found out, though, as a result of one of my experiences, that I was unwilling to compromise what I knew to be truth in order to negotiate for what I wanted in a relationship. That experience, and others, also illustrated to me just how much I lacked in knowledge about relationships with the opposite sex, and how vulnerable my heart was.
As my college years drew to a close, I began to wonder what I would do next. I considered going for my Ph. D. (my 5 years in college involved getting both my Bachelor and Master's degrees), but actually ended up becoming involved with a biblical research organization. Whatever else this organization did, I know that the knowledge I gained from their classes served as another step forward on my path. With that knowledge, I was able, at last, to manifest the power of the holy spirit through speaking in tongues. This involvement led me into spending my first post-college year in Minnesota, as a part of their evangelical program.
I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that even though I was in this new "tribe", I did not feel I belonged to that tribe. This feeling was coming, not because of rejection by my fellows, but because it wasn't in me to give my energy over completely to a group. I felt alone, even though outwardly I was one of the group. When I look back on it now, I realize that I was unwilling, in a deep sense, to trust other people to hold my best interests at heart. This "inability" to give myself over to the tribe turned out to be crucial for what was to come.
During my year in Minnesota, I made more attempts at relationships with females. One woman who was very intelligent and attractive to me turned out to be inaccessible because, as she told me, she didn't feel the need for marriage. I wanted committment, not a temporary relationship, so, regrettably, I let that one go.
After that year on the "mission field", I decided that I would travel south to Florida. I had been interested in tropical plants since childhood; besides, I needed to thaw out after my time in the Minnesota deep-freeze. During the final months of my time in Minnesota, I had also resolved to believe that I would be guided to whoever would become my lifelong partner. My journey brought me to Hallandale, in south Florida, where I rented a room and got a job in construction.
There I was, with a Master's degree in Botany, working as a laborer; yet, somehow, I didn't feel at the time that it was incongruous. I was still thinking about being femmy, and even wondering if my desire to be femmy meant that I was gay.
The season was Fall of 1978, and I found out that a biblical research class was being held in the area. This was the same class which I had taken when I first got involved in that biblical research ministry; since I was a graduate, I knew I could attend it free of charge. So that is what I did, and that is where Delia's path and mine intersected.
I knew I was attracted to her right away, but at the time I thought she had a child (the little girl with her was actually the child of her friend, Lea, who was taking the class for the first time). Getting involved with someone who already had a child was something which I was not ready for. I still felt the need for nurturing, so my sense at that time was that I didn't have enough energy to nurture someone's child when I felt such a lack myself.
So, that belief, coupled with my resolve not to push when I felt attracted, kept me from actively pursuing Delia when I first met her. I decided that if our meeting was Divine synchronicity, I would find out soon enough.
As things turned out, Lea invited me over to visit and, during that visit, I found out that Lea was the one with the little girl, not Delia. I was amazed about how strong my attraction for Delia then became.
That evening, we were on the couch together, listening to music. I was thinking that I had to leave for Hallandale to attend a meeting, or meet someone, but another part of me was telling me that I was exactly where I needed to be. So, I stayed with Delia.
Only a few days later, I moved in with Delia and I've been with her ever since. We were married in the spring of 1979.
In the months before we got married, we did many things together, one of which was going to Coconut Grove and walking around. I remember this particular time we spent because that is when we shared with each other what we had each believed for in a mate. We also shared our beliefs, which was the beginning of what would be the foundation of our marriage together; a consensus composed of a unified set of beliefs in spiritual principles. We went on to solidify our consensus and, to this day, continue adding to our consensus through sharing and experiences together.
This foundation has always served as our baseline; we both knew if things got too confusing, we could go back to our consensus and work our way out from there.
Shortly after we were wed, I told Delia as much as I knew about my femininity, which, at that time, amounted to my desire to dress in feminine clothing. She didn't seem to have a problem with it, so over the months and years, I would dress up in some femmy clothes, usually by myself in the bedroom, and that would be it. I wouldn't put on makeup or a wig. I am sure that, had I had the confidence and the opportunity, I would have enjoyed getting made up and more completely femmy because of how exciting just the dressing up was to me.
Our first relationship breakthrough came after we had been married for a little over a year. We were still involved with the biblical research group, and I got a job offer to run a plant nursery in Apopka, Florida through a friend of the regional leader of the group. At that time, we were living in Homestead, Florida, which is about a 6 hour drive away from Apopka. The experiences we had there culminated in a betrayal (Judas experience, as Caroline describes) by the people in that biblical research group, and resulted in Delia and myself pulling away from that tribe and sharing our hearts more intimately with each other. We had been pushed to a precarious position on a cliff, figuratively speaking, and it was then that we learned to consult and share with each other before taking anyone else's word for what each of us felt about the other.
After the betrayal, we began planning to move back south to Homestead, and we did so at the end of the summer of 1980.
Aside from Delia, I had never shared with anyone my desires for the feminine. None of my relatives knew about this aspect of me, and I didn't venture out in public dressed until years later, when my first opportunity to dress up completely and go out in public (to a Halloween party) came up.
However, this state of affairs changed when I found out that D.J., a nephew of Delia's, liked to dress up in drag and go to show clubs.
Delia and I were visiting in Houston, Texas (southeast Texas is where many of her relatives live), and we went to lunch with D.J., and it was there that I decided to share with him my desires to dress in feminine clothing.
Well, he thought it would be a lot of fun for us four (Delia, me, D.J., and Ricky, his partner; D.J. is gay) to get dressed up and go out dancing. So we did, and it was fabulous for me. I looked more like a drag queen than a "real" woman, but I was just very happy to be femmy nonetheless. The next year we visited there, we did the same thing, only this time I was made up more like a real woman than a drag queen. I enjoyed it immensely, but I didn't know why at that time. Both the experiences with D.J., and the Halloween outing, were for me a sort of "clandestine" emergence. What I did was not due to an acknowledgement of my inner identity; rather, it was something which I knew I liked to do, but had never done in public. None of these experiences included any desire for me to have sex with, or be attracted to, men.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Before the outings with D.J., our marriage stayed adventurous and interesting, but at times I felt an inexplicable sadness, and even had thoughts of suicide when I knew of no reason why I should have such thoughts and feelings. After we distanced ourselves from organized religion (without giving up our belief in spiritual matters, which constituted the foundation and consensus of our marriage), I found a copy of Robert Monroe's book, "Far Journeys" at a New Age bookstore. I had read "Journeys Out Of The Body" when I was a teenager, and in a secret place, in the back of my mind, I had been on the lookout for Monroe's next book.
My desire for further knowledge about subjects like out of body experiences had been a "secret" during the time between my teenage years and this time with Delia. Although I felt a very strong urge to seek out knowledge of what I understood at that time were "occult" matters, my religious beliefs kept me from it with the idea that such a desire was sinful and demonic. Another part of me did not see it that way, but the time was not right until after we had our betrayal experience and unplugged from organized religion of any kind.
Monroe's book powered us, ultimately, to seek deep spiritual knowledge together in earnest. We attended the Gateway Voyage at the Monroe Institute in Virginia, bought the Gateway Experience for use at home, and eventually discovered the Bartholomew books, channeled by Mary Margaret-Moore. Both of us began having out of body experiences, and we even found electronic devices to assist us in achieving higher states of consciousness. All of these efforts helped us to make deep and repeated changes in our belief structures. We were not attending church during this time period, although we had made a foray into visiting a "full gospel" church and manifesting the holy spirit by speaking in tongues with interpretation, which both of us know how to do.
After these times of exploration and learning, our life together began to take a new turn which shook up our stability and started us on some serious inner work. Our home was burglarized, which showed us in the physical way how wide open and vulnerable we were leaving ourselves. Then, in the course of my job responsibilities, I met a woman by the name of Roxanne, for whom I felt an attraction. I told Delia right away, never considering that I should keep such a thing a secret from her. This turned out to be a challenging learning experience for her, even though all I did with Roxanne was to talk with her. Delia had even come to the place where she allowed Roxanne to come visit us in our home so they could meet. Delia and I did discuss my feelings of sexual attraction to Roxanne, but even after Delia told me that I must do whatever I felt I must do, I did not choose to have an affair. Instead, the experience became for me a test of my integrity, of whether or not I would stay true to my committment.
I want to share how this thing unraveled because it shows, step by step, how you get opportunities to make choices which change everything before your eyes. I had gone to the apartment complex where Roxanne would come for business, and while I was waiting for her to show up at the apartment which was her office, a lady, who was the resident manager of the complex, went into Roxanne's office apartment. I thought maybe the manager had left something there and went to get it. But I did not see her come out before Roxanne showed up and we both went into the office.
Now, there I was, knowing that there was another person in the office, perhaps in the bathroom, while we were in the living room. Roxanne began to speak immediately about a dream she had had about me. At that moment I knew I could have chosen to shush her up and whisper that someone else was in the apartment, but I made the conscious choice not to say a word about it. Roxanne went on to talk to me in intimate terms, as though she were thinking that perhaps we could have a little time in the bedroom right then and there. We did not kiss, hug, snuggle, or anything like that; we were just talking.
Then, much to Roxanne's chagrin, and right in the middle of this intimate talk, out walks this resident manager from the bathroom and greets us with a cheery, "Hi"! The energy in the room changed palpably, and the energy I had felt coming from Roxanne turned into a blast of icy air.
After that, Roxanne didn't want to have anything to do with me except regarding business. I have no doubt in my mind that this was a crucial lesson for me, and one which had to be passed before Delia and I could go further.
A few years later, Hurricane Andrew came by and churned up our physical life. By the time the hurricane arrived, Delia was already a few months pregnant. Our son, Slate, was born in April of 1993, and more changes came into our lives. Having an infant around after being married so long with just each other for company was quite an adaptation for us.
Throughout all of these times, trying and triumphant, we also served as each other's therapists. We felt that there was not anything which we couldn't share with each other and work on together. The work wasn't always fun, but it was always worthwhile.
A major turning point came when my father passed away in June of 1996. Without going into too much detail, I ended up as the personal representative of the estate, and part of the estate was a double-wide mobile home in Palm Bay, Florida. This location was about a 3 1/2 hour drive away from our home in Florida City.
The significance of this is that, in the process of settling the estate, I became the owner of the mobile home, and we began traveling up to Palm Bay on weekends to clean and fix up that home. In time, we decided that Delia might stay in the home for a couple of weeks with Slate and get some painting and other work done there more efficiently than both of us driving up there each weekend.
So, that is what we did. While Delia was in Palm Bay, I was alone and, in that solitude, began to wonder about being femmy, and what it meant for me. I got femmy every evening and felt so good about it that I began surfing the Internet, hoping to find some information about crossdressing. This time spent in questing for what turned out to be my true gender identity made the emergence which followed contrast greatly with my previous few outings en femme.
What I found out only got me so persuaded about being femmy that I went and got my ears pierced (Delia had already suggested I get one ear pierced, but not for the purpose of being femmy). Coincidentally, I also found out about a couple who lived in the Palm Bay area, and the husband was a crossdresser.
Delia and I ended up meeting them and going out with them; the wife was a hairdresser and she made me up to look very feminine; I was so happy I almost wanted to cry. By this time, I had my own wig, so I was set. We all went out to a bar with a drag show and had a lot of fun. All this took place in September of 1997.
On the drive back home from this experience, I was overcome with sadness and began sobbing in the car. Delia wanted to know what was wrong, and I found it hard to tell her exactly what was the matter. I tried to explain it by saying that it was like the times when I was much younger and had to leave my grandmother and her love to go back home, but I thought inside that the only similarity was that, at those times, I also cried. The real reason, I now know, was that this was the first time I loved myself enough to be myself openly and consciously. Knowing that I was not free to continue to do so was a sadness of intensity like unto that of leaving the love of my grandmother.
Over the next few months, we went out (with me dressed femmy) a bit more often. The couple we had met in the Palm Bay area turned out to be interested in D & S (Dominance and Submission) as well and they thought we might also be interested in it. We weren't, and eventually we drifted away from doing anything more with them.
By the time October rolled around, I was feeling that I wanted to show up somewhat femmy at the office for Halloween. Even though I worked around men all day, somehow I felt I would be OK showing this part of myself in a Halloween context. Halloween gave me the "perfect" cover story. So I did show up, but "half femmy", appearing feminine from the waist up but masculine from the waist down. Everything worked out fine and I only wished I had been fully femmy for the event.
In fact, I did get to show up at the office completely femmy for the Christmas party; I came as Ms. sexy Santa Claus, and the boss told me afterwards that everyone felt this party was the best ever. Then he went on to tell me that he didn't want me to come femmy to work any more. Imagine that; with me being femmy, the party was better than it had ever been, but the reward for that was to be prohibition.
Well, as it turned out, trying to prohibit someone from being themselves is a losing proposition. My boss ended up relenting after a few months had elapsed and he began allowing me to get femmy at the end of the work day, about a half hour before I'd leave for home. I was able to do this for a few months, even passing out paychecks to the employees while femmy.
The paradox here is that, where I work, nearly everyone is male, and there are over 140 employees. Here I was, someone who used to have low self esteem and low confidence, yet daring to be femmy in front of all these men. I knew there was something to this because shame and self-consciousness were nowhere near as present as the calm, peaceful feeling I experienced while femmy. It all came to a close, though, when the boss informed me that someone had complained that they didn't feel comfortable getting their check from LariAnn. My lack of confidence in myself, coupled with my ignorance about workplace law, caused me not to fight this, even though I now know it was illegal for the boss to prohibit me from being femmy. But because of the turmoil which was going on within my whole life at that time, I know this was just one part of the unfolding process which was going on.
Meanwhile, I was wanting to be femmy more often than once or twice a week. I'd get to be femmy to go out with Delia, and I tried being femmy for "ordinary" activities such as going shopping. I felt some nervousness; not all of it was due to wondering what people would do or think if they found out I was not a real woman. Some of it was due to my increasing uncertainty about how this was affecting Delia at the time. Some of the comments she made hinted that I might be pushing up against unseen limits.
As the winter turned into spring, Delia and I felt we wanted to find a church to begin attending. Slate was over 5 years old and we felt it was a good idea for him to be exposed to a church environment and Sunday school. Within this time frame, another coincidence happened in that, after many years of no contact, I had gotten back in touch with my older brother. He was living in Corpus Christi, Texas, and he had begun exploring himself to enough of a degree that he felt he had some gay tendencies. He told us about the church he was attending, which was "open and affirming" (ONA), which meant they welcomed and accepted gay people.
The denomination of the church was the United Churches of Christ (UCC); I went on the net to find out whether there were any churches of that denomination near us. We found one, but it wasn't listed as ONA. Nonetheless, we got the information about it and Delia made an attempt to contact the pastor. Interestingly enough, this happened to be one of the most non-dogmatic of the denominations we could have chosen.
One Sunday shortly after (the pastor had not yet contacted Delia), we felt moved to get dressed and show up at that church. I got fully femmied up for church, and we went there and sat in the front pew. Considering how shy and introverted I had been most of my life, it should have seemed incredible to me that I would have the gumption to do such a thing. Nonetheless, not only did I do it, but I felt right doing it. I was nervous, but the part of me that felt nervousness was nowhere near as powerful as the part which felt this new "rightness" about myself.
When the reaction we initially received was generally positive, I knew I would want to go to church femmy all the time. As things turned out, not everyone was accepting; one lady wrote a letter to the church council about me. The letter was rife with lies and misconceptions; had I been of a more litigious bent, I would have sued her into homelessness. She had no personal knowledge of me nor my family, and neither did anyone else in that church at the time she did her deed. That letter simply added to the mounting stress which Delia was feeling about what was happening with me.
What was turning into a problem between Delia and myself was how strongly I was feeling about being femmy, in some way, all the time. I tried to have earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet, on almost every day, and I would come home after a rough day at the office and tell Delia that I was "ready to be femmy". At some times, she seemed to be OK enough with it, but as time went on, I could see (and sense) that this was becoming a problem for her. One time I remember clearly was when I was just going out the door to the office, and Delia said to me that my earrings were too feminine, and that I was revolting to her.
Incidents such as this one resulted in feelings of such despair and depression that I considered suicide very seriously. While I didn't want Delia to be in distress, I knew that something important was going on with me, and that it would be disastrous for me to try to stop it. If Delia was going to leave me, I doubted whether I'd want to stay in the world of the living.
During this period, I continued active in surfing the net to find other people like myself, as well as managing a website about my femme persona, LariAnn. Between the time I'd spend online and the time I wanted to be femmy, Delia was feeling she wasn't getting much of me anymore. We began having vicious verbal fights like we had never had before, and for the first time, I felt that I could no longer share my heart with Delia.
Every time I tried to tell her why and how I felt about myself, she would just get very angry at me and say things which tore my heart. I was baffled that I couldn't show her that women have such a wider freedom of self expression than men are allowed to, and that women don't get this severe negative feedback about wearing masculine clothing. In me was so much more which didn't make sense as far as what I perceived as the freedom women have which is prohibited for men. I was experiencing a double standard, but this time, as a male, I was feeling I was on the losing end.
Delia told me that she needed to find a therapist; that this was one situation in which we could no longer be each other's therapists. Then she told me that I should also see a therapist if we were to stand any chance of keeping our marriage together. We checked with the pastor and he referred us to Phil, a therapist with a Christian counseling service, and we began sessions with him.
Although this therapy was probably helpful, if only as a means for venting some feelings, Phil did not have any real knowledge or understanding about crossdressing or transgenderism, so he was of very limited help there. We only saw him for a few sessions before we decided that, for the cost, we weren't getting much of the help we needed.
Delia then started looking for a therapist through our health plan. The first one she found seemed to be a little more helpful than Phil was; I also went to see that therapist a few times with Delia. We started working on a compromise plan, under which I would be femmy some days of the week and mascy other days. At first, it appeared to work out, but after a little while, I understood within myself that this plan was not going to stay aloft.
I didn't understand why, but the feeling that I needed to be femmy all the time was so strong and urgent that I was in despair every time I was mascy. I'd see a really femmy woman and the stress level would rise precipitously within me. My feeling was not about wanting to have sex with really feminine women; I wanted to look like them and feel like them! Delia saw that I seemed to be unhappy whenever I was mascy; I couldn't conceal how I felt inside. Delia became more and more unhappy with the state of affairs which was unfolding.
At the office, the boss's wife would come into work looking really femmy and, inside myself, I'd go to pieces. I could hardly stand not being able to be femmy at the office, even though by this time I was what I came to call "semi-femmy". Technically, everything I wore, except for my shirt, was designed for women; the shorts, the jewelry, shoes, and even some makeup. Because of problems I was facing at work around this issue, though, everything I wore at that time had to fall within masculine parameters.
I had shaved legs, even with shorts on. I was as femmy as was practical, but it wasn't enough. Besides that, other problems stepped forward to present themselves.
For me, it was as though I had been living my whole life in a room with a closet. I knew one day I'd have to open the door to that closet, clean it out and organize it, and the day came at long last. When I opened that closet door, what was inside was not a dark, dusty compartment in disarray, but a vast, wonderful, beautiful expanse of amazing feminine space. The feeling and imagery was of bright happy colors, sunshine, softness, sensuality, creativity, sensitivity, and (relatively) uninhibited freedom.
At that point, I realized that the room I had been living in all my life was the real closet, and that this amazing expanse of femininity was my real self. To me, even the thought of going back into that room and leaving the wonder of my femininity was devastatingly sad. The suggestion that I could spend some days "in the room" (i.e. mascy) and other days in the feminine expanse as a means of staying "balanced" appealed to me about as much as, I imagined, the idea of spending some days back in the concentration camp and other days in the world of freedom "in order to stay balanced" would appeal to a newly freed prisoner of war.
Since I couldn't share my heart with Delia, as I had done for so many years, I had all these unexpressed feelings building up inside. I was really needing someone to share them with; someone who would really understand. What could I do? Read on...
A little earlier in this process, after I had a website up, but before things got as severe as they had become between Delia and myself, I received an email from another transgendered person who went by the femme name of Lisa Gayle Schneider. She turned out to be a Godsend because, somehow, I felt a kinship with her which I didn't feel with any other person who sent me email about this subject. We had the most voluminous and comprehensive correspondence that you can possibly imagine; I could make a large book out of the emails which we have exchanged.
During the roughest times, I exchanged many emails with Gayle, sharing my fears and my whole heart. Even though her situation differed in many significant ways from that of myself and Delia, she still gave me the shoulder to cry on that I needed at that time. Eventually, Delia also wrote to Gayle and shared with her. I am convinced that being able to share with Gayle played a crucial role in helping me avoid suicide.
I was feeling so unsettled and unstable that I was using whatever free time I could find at the office to write my feelings in letters to Gayle. Of course, I had to go online to send the emails off. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was being "spied" upon by some of my coworkers. Well, the whole thing came to a head one day when I was called in for a big meeting with the human resources rep. Many accusations were made; most of which I felt were overblown and even inaccurate, but I was in no position, either emotionally or intellectually, to put up much of a defense. A written reprimand letter was placed in my personnel file and I was prohibited from going online and from discussing "my personal life" with anyone, and threatened with discharge should I violate that directive. No one else in the company was under any such gag order about their personal lives.
No attempt was made to try to determine why I was in such distress, or what had been going on with me that would cause me to spend time writing whatever they thought I was writing at the office. I was never given a chance to explain what had been going on with me, nor was I given any guidance, assistance, or help with what was a major psychological crisis for me. I had observed other people in management at this company go so far as to spend plenty of company time on personal activities, discuss personal things with clients, vendors, and fellow employees, and even engage in sexual harassment and discriminatory joking and behavior, and none of them was ever written up or reprimanded for it to my knowledge.
My lack of knowledge about personnel law meant that I did not realize that what had been done to me was highly illegal and actionable. I was able, eventually, to utilize those legal facts which I later learned to convince my employer to rescind that gag order.
These days were perhaps the darkest days I have ever lived through in my entire life. I really did feel that I was prepared to die. Although Slate seemed not to be affected by my being femmy, he was affected by the verbal fighting; one day I came home and on his little blackboard he had written that he "wanted Daddy to go back to a man" or something to that effect. That felt so painful to me that I would have found it simple to go right then and kill myself, but I didn't.
One of the support groups we had gone to a few times met in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida; it was called Serenity, and the people there covered a very broad spectrum. From gays to drag queens to crossdressers, to transsexuals, they were all there in quite a variety. The first time Delia and I showed up, they were having a Thanksgiving get together; this was, I believe, in November of 1997. At a subsequent Serenity meeting, which I attended alone, I met Dr. Marilyn Volker for the first time. I was impressed immediately with her unconditional acceptance and genuine caring for people who many would judge as "strange" or "deviant".
We learned that Marilyn included transgender panel discussions as a part of her sexuality courses at local universities. The first panel we had the opportunity to attend was at Lynn University in Boca Raton, Florida. The second panel we participated in was at Barry University, in Miami, Florida, and it was at that panel that I believe Marilyn first offered to see me privately for therapy. Marilyn was, for me, the light at the end of the tunnel of turmoil that Delia and I were lost in.
From that time, up until the present, Marilyn has met with me about once per month, although at the beginning, I think we did meet more often. That which impresses me most about Marilyn is the nature of her love and caring which, to me, is another example of unconditional love in action.
My psychological state took a turn for the better as soon as I began sessions with Marilyn, and continued improving steadily from that point forward.
Delia decided that she needed to be free from the responsibility of homeschooling Slate, so after some research, we decided on St. John's Episcopal School in Homestead, for Slate's first grade education. The principal had indicated, after meeting with Delia, and then meeting with me, that she saw no problem with me being femmy. Based on her assurances, we enrolled Slate.
After Slate was enrolled, the principal then decided she'd changed her mind and told Delia she did not want to see me show up at the school dressed femmy. That principal even got into a shouting frenzy with Delia on the phone; I was incensed and called the principal back to find out what was going on. She was a little less disrespectful to me, but refused to stand by the assurances she had given both of us prior to enrolling Slate.
Needless to say, this added more stress to Delia's already full plate. The school situation culminated in an incident at the Holiday show (Christmas) in which Slate was singing; when Delia and I showed up with Slate, and I was femmy, the school officials refused me entrance to the sanctuary. The Rector soon appeared and told me that if I refused to leave, he would summon the police. I let him know that he should go right ahead, as I knew I was violating no law.
When the police arrived, they could do nothing to me since, as I suspected all along, I was committing no infraction. However, the police did tell me that, should I attempt to enter the sanctuary against the wishes of the school, I would be arrested for "trespassing". Imagine that; my son is in there singing, and I'd be "trespassing" if I chose to go in and watch him perform!
We insisted upon a police report so we would have the necessary documentation and witness names, should we decide to sue the school. Delia was livid towards those school people; this was the most prominent instance of Delia fighting for LariAnn, rather than with LariAnn.
For the record; at that time, I had asked Delia whether or not I should go ahead and be femmy for the Holiday show, and she gave her approval. This was not a case of me showing up femmy against her wishes!
On the church front, Delia and I had both gotten very involved in church activities; I was a member of the choir, and we helped with church functions. Both of us were nominated for positions in the year 2000; Delia was selected for the preschool governing board and I was elected Treasurer of the church. So both of us had a lot of energy being invested in this tribe. I felt that the more deeply involved in church activities I became, the more openly people would experience me. This, to me, was my way of educating them that, as a transgendered person, I was harmless and no different from everyone else. Marilyn had told me several times that my being myself and "out" was more valuable for educating people than her seminars could ever be, because while she was discussing it academically, I was living it. For my part, I felt that the best way for people to get over their fears and misconceptions was to experience me firsthand.
When Delia first learned of Caroline Myss (who appeared on Oprah, which Delia watched regularly), she became very interested in getting Caroline's books for study. From what Delia shared with me about her, I knew Caroline's teachings related to the search for higher consciousness; that was an area where both of us still had a fundamental interest. As Delia studied Caroline's material, I observed a noticeable change coming over her. I was finding that I could share more with her about what I was learning from my visits with Marilyn; Delia was becoming less stressed out and more understanding about me.
We both had reached the place where we understood together that I was not a crossdresser, but a transgender person. What this meant for me was that my true gender identity is feminine, even though my genetic makeup is male. As Marilyn described it, what is "between my ears" is not what people expect when they know what is "between my legs". The understanding I have now is that those who are crossdressers are most often androgynous, or equally harmonious expressing masculinity or femininity; with me, I feel most clearly myself when expressing femininity.
With this new understanding, and clinical support to back me up, I continued working with my employer about this issue. The final resolution came when my boss told me that, starting in January of 2000, I was free to be femmy at the office, full time. As of the time of this revision, I have been femmy full-time for over 2 1/2 years, and my desire to be feminine has not abated in the slightest.
After my first year of being femmy full time at the office, my boss has shared with me that the whole issue (my being transgender and completely "out") has turned out (from his point of view) to be a "non-event". What he meant by that was that it has had no detrimental effects on clients, vendors, or employees in any way he has been able to determine. This is in stark contrast to the concerns, reservations, and fears expressed when I first revealed to my employer that I needed to be femmy.
After observing how great a positive influence the teachings of Caroline Myss have been for Delia, I began studying Caroline's work myself. I can say unequivocally that Caroline's material has helped me tie up loose ends in my spiritual seeking; loose ends which have been loose for many years. For the first time, I got real, practical understanding about major events and choices in my life, even going back to my childhood. I also had practical information about how to go about realizing many of the spiritual qualities I have read about previously in other material.
Today, Delia and I are happier than we have ever been; we are thankful that we stayed together throughout the whole process of my self-actualization. Slate is a happy, precocious boy and knows himself well enough to recognize that he has no desire to be femmy himself, even though his Daddy is femmy all the time.
Delia and I are certain we have embarked upon a new phase of our lives together. I have published my first book, Fractalic Awakening - A Seeker's Guide, which is a synthesis of what I have come to understand so far in my spiritual quest. Regarding my work with hybridizing aroids, other interesting possibilities are in the works. What else is in store, we do not know, but that we are awakening and progressing at a greater rate than we ever have before, is certain. We continue on our paths of seeking together, and undoubtedly will discover more to inspire us on the way.
It is my hope that you find encouragement, inspiration, and understanding from our stories. If you have not yet read Delia's story, by all means click on the link below and read her story as well. Both of the stories, together, are Our Story, and Our Gift, to you.
people have visited LariAnn's Story page since 4/1/01!