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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fashion · #1194720
Sam's friend is a man whose sense of being is that fundamentally he is a woman.
 
A  Man Who's Fundamentally a Woman
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#1854346 by ANN Counselor, Lesbian & Happy Author IconMail Icon


         "Wearing a dress, I can give a speech to 750 people; but in jeans and a sweatshirt, I can hardly say hello to one person. I can walk a straight line in high heels, but I trip when I wear Nike's. I just want to be myself and not be judged and condemned by what I wear."

         Paul got out of Sam's car then looked at his red high heeled shoes and checked to be sure there was not a hole in his nylon stockings. He swept his hands down both sides, the front then the back of his black skirt to remove any wrinkles resulting from sitting in the sedan.
         
         He waited for Sam to join him at the side of the car.  Looking around Paul saw couples of men and women, grandfathers with their grandsons and other people walking toward to entry gate of the university's stadium.  He fell in step with Paul.

         As they approached the gate, Sam took his wallet from his back pocket and removed the two tickets he had purchased for himself and Paul.  He handed the tickets to the uniformed man who glared at Paul and shook his head while he grinned then turned away to take tickets from other baseball fans. 

         Paul thought to himself, Sam doesn't condemn me like others do. I just wish I could be what some people call 'normal', whatever that is.  I'm eternally grateful he's willing to walk beside me when I'm dressed like I feel deep inside.  No man could wish for a better friend than one who accepts you as you are.   

         Sam looked at the tickets when they got to the grandstand.  "We need to go up to the tenth row.  That's where our seats are.  Can you make it okay?"

         "Oh, yes."

         Sam pointed to their reserved seats and followed Paul as they made their way through the crowded aisle and sat down.

         The strands of the "Star Spangled Banner" began and both men stood up with the crowd, some people around them sang the words, others placed an hand over their hearts while others were just solemn.  They sat back in their seats with the crowd when the national anthem ended. 

         "Paul, that song reminds all of us just how fortunate we are to live in this country where our freedoms are protected.  We're both Americans.  We've always stood by each other.  That's what counts.  I'm not gay nor a transvestite.  I'm just a man and I know you are too; but if you want to dress up like a lady, then I'll treat you like one."

         "Hotdogs and beer!" shouted the man carrying a tray strapped to his shoulders.

         Sam waved, holding up two fingers.  "Two dogs and two beers."  He passed his money to the person sitting beside him, who passed it on to the hotdog and beer man.

         After counting the money, the hotdog and beer man passed two of each toward them.  Each person passed them to the next until Sam handed Paul one of the hotdogs and one plastic cup filled with beer.

         Paul smiled.  "Thanks, Sam."   

         They cheered the home team, shouted at the umpire and praised the pitching like the people around them.

         After the game, they followed the crowd of baseball fans, some of whom jostled against them but said nothing as they left the stadium. 

         As they got to the sedan and started to get inside, a harsh voice rang out.  "Hey Girlie, you walk like a sissy man!"

         Paul opened the door and got inside. 

        Sam looked around and saw three men walking with the bully who laughed and added a few ugly noises.  He glared at the bullies then got into the sedan and drove away.

         Paul looked down at his hands and clicked his long red nails together.  "Sam, I'm sorry about that.  For years, you've put up with insults and assaults because you've remained my friend. Thanks for the game today."

         Sam turned onto the street leaving the bullies behind.  "I so want to battle all of them but that's just not possible.  "It's like my Dad always said, you can never change the mind of anyone who is determined to stay ignorant.  People choose how they want to be and some will never accept others who have a right to be unique."

         Sam made his way onto the busy highway, drove a few miles then pulled off and stopped after turning in to the parking lot at their favorite bar. "Let's go have a beer." 

         Paul opened the door to get out.

         "Oh, by the way, Paul, you look beautiful today. You're one classy dame!"

         The two friends walked into the bar and ordered beers.

**********************************

Paul Martin, now thirty-three years of age was born in Wynona, Arkansas.  After college he moved to Portland, Oregon, where his childhood friend, Sam Austin, lived.  He went to Portland for two reasons, one was to continue his relationship with Sam, and the other was because the information he had about Portland indicated the people were liberal enough to let individuals live without fear when they were transgender, transvestites, transsexual or different in various other ways.  City leaders, police and others were trained to treat people according to how and who they lived as long as they did not hurt other people. 

Paul's family included three older sisters, his mother and his father.  During his early years, theirs was a kind and happy family.  Paul's happiness came from the loving way his mother and sisters treated him.  His unhappiness was caused by the caustic remarks of his father who berated him for not acting tough, gruff and inconsiderate like other boys in Wynona.  He hated what he called Paul's "prissiness" in the way he walked and held his hands.  Until he was fifteen, Paul couldn't understand his father's meanness toward him.

Most of his young life, Paul was confused.  When he would look into the mirror, his mind seemed to play tricks on him.  It was as though he saw a girl in the mirror.  That was because his mind wouldn't accept his body was of a boy.  All the thoughts about who he really was told him he was a girl.  The constant confusion was like a plague on his soul. 

Every Sunday Paul enjoyed looking at his sisters when they were dressed in their prettiest dresses with ruffles, jewelry and snappy shoes.  His mind would replace their faces with his own and he would smile with the thought, "If only, I could wear dresses, jewelry and shoes like them instead of boy's clothes.  If only, I could have my blond hair long and curly like theirs.  If that were true, I would be happy."

After accompanying his father to the Barber Shop where both of them got very short haircuts, he would go to his room and cry.  A boy's haircut just didn't fit who Paul saw he was.

The older Paul became, the greater his sense of being born into the wrong body.  As he would stand in the men's restroom alongside other men who often laughed about their "manhood", he wanted to be rid of his.  He often wondered what a woman's "womanhood" looked like.  Whatever it was, he wanted it, not the little thing he had.

By the time he was fifteen, Paul found reasons to be at home alone so he could dress in his sisters' pretty dresses, add earrings and lipstick then put a scarf over his hair.  Those hours, he would stand in front of the mirror, smile, raise his voice to a higher, smoother pitch and say, "Hello Barbara, you look beautiful today.  What do you want to do?" 

Sometimes, he would answer himself.  "I want to dance today and I want to be a ballerina."  Then he would dance around the room pretending he was on stage as a famous ballerina hearing the crowd calling his name.  "Barbara, Barbara, the greatest ballerina in the world." 

Paul kept his secret thoughts and dreams to himself through school and college.  He became a Certified Public Accountant and acquired a good position with Bank of America. 

He reconnected with his childhood friend, Sam Austin, who was married and had two children and during his twenties, Sam learned from Paul about the confusion and fear he had carried most of his life, that he felt real only when dressed as a woman.  To Paul's joy, Sam did not judge him, spit on him, or send him "packing"; instead, Sam told him, "You're my friend, Paul.  I'll not be ashamed of you.  You're a good person."  Sam's actions and acceptance was the greatest blessing Paul had ever known.

By the time he was thirty, Paul knew at his deepest sense of self he wanted to fully become a woman; that he was more than a transvestite, a man who dresses like a woman at times in his life.  He felt a woman all of his being and began to save money to transform his body into the woman he knew he was. 

Before Paul began the two year process of fully being a woman, he talked to Sam and told him his plan.  The first requirement in the process meant he had to live as a woman on a daily basis. 

He was now living as a woman. 

******************************

Over the next months and years, he will take the hormones to change his body to become a woman, have the genitalia surgery to complete the physical change and live the life intended for the spirit residing inside his physical body. 

Paul looks forward to the day he will be seamlessly a woman.  Then he will feel whole and real.

Meanwhile, he goes to ball games and the bar with Sam, a faithful friend.

.






       
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