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� In this diary, I record my life as a transvestite. Perhaps it will help somebody else, who finds their lifestyle doesn't quite match that endorsed by the 'tranny mafia'. Well, I've been there... and survived. The debriefing starts here.

�loves: All kinds of stuff that society thinks I shouldn't.

�hates: Microsoft. Obviously.

�reads:
secret-motel
artgnome
enfinblue
stepfordtart
ten-oclock
boombasticat
lawliiet
annanotbob
fifidellabon
my-serenade

Lynn Jones
Becky
Samantha

Beginnings
9:42 p.m. -- 2008-06-20

I'm a transvestite. A man who sometimes feels the urge to dress as a woman. Deal with it! Or not - go and read something else instead.

I've been dealing with these feelings since I was about six years old, as far as I can remember. It's strange, but people like me seem to know instinctively that we are going to need to be very secretive. So I've lived a double life, at times.

Now, though, there's all kinds of resources and sources of information available. But it wasn't always like that.

I must have been fourteen before I happened to see a documentary on television in which a man was talking about his need to cross-dress. Wow, I thought, I'm not the only one. And I learned a new word: transvestite.

It's a clunky sort of word. But then, it is a millstone around your neck. (Some folks would say otherwise, I'm sure!) But they have all their websites, advocating and celebrating the lifestyle they have carved out for themselves.

It's a lifestyle that doesn't suit me, so I thought I'd redress the balance. Perhaps, someday, a reader will stumble across these articles I'm planning to write, and realise that there's more than one kind of transvestism, and more than one way to cope.

I hope so.

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