In the Beginning

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In the Beginning: The Death and Rebirth of Jayne (1999 and Before)

…there was a black lace bra and a cheap pair of blue nylon panties. Well, okay…there was a whole lot of other stuff, too.

But this isn't really about my childhood, in totality. That is a book's worth of stuff, and so I will excerpt part of that from my

"It starts off when I was young…really young. I often played with my sister's dolls, got into Mom's makeup and perfume more than

I should have…in short, I did a lot of the same things that you may or may not have done. I even experimented with a friend in terms of

being physical. In third grade, that meant a lot of kissing. We did all the "experimenting" we could get away with in a closet for several

weeks. I took knitting as an elective once; then macramé.

...I took square dancing too, rather than flag football. Safer that way!

But, my folks kept trying to reinforce the gender stereotype (or at least an androgynous stereotype), and eventually I "grew out of it".

Fast forward now to high school. I was masculine in body, but my skin pH was all wrong, I weighed 70 pounds through my junior

year, and I was more emotional than most of my male peers. Instead of shop class, I took a sewing class. Anytime I lost a girlfriend,

I reacted just as any girl would have…tears, anger, feelings of rejection, and so forth. I often chalked it up to being a 'temperamental

Except I never did, and compounding this, I often felt like the girls had better relationships, clothes, accessories, and so forth.

BUT…I never felt like a girl, although some of my friends who were female kidded me about being "one of the girls". I just

chalked up the mess of my life to being me. I even got slapped once by my sister one morning, simply because I had bigger boobs

than she did. And then I met Scott (not his real name).

He was warm, wonderful, kind, cute, and just a tad younger than I was. We were coming back from a band trip in my folks'

motor home, in the back, and we were just kidding around, talking, and having a good time. We were tired, and suddenly, in a lighter

"heavy" moment in our discussion, asked if he could kiss me.

Since no one was around in back, I figured, why not? I told him okay, and suddenly he was in my arms, kissing me tentatively at

first, then a little stronger. We became lovers, and his was the first cock I ever had in my mouth. But that was a little later, and we

"dated" each other between girlfriends (hey, we didn't have the openness that we do now back in the early 1980's) off and on until

I was in the Navy. By that time, I had prayed to receive Christ as my Savior, and had "buried" most of my bisexual feelings, much

less any thoughts of being a woman. Oh, I had occasional brief flings with guys, one jumped me and stunned me, another was just

a chance encounter (him I fantasized about for three years). But nothing serious; after all, I was supposed to be very straight.

Even when I went to Seminary, I kept things pretty well buried.

I mean, married, working toward some form of ministry…why would I want to do those things again, and possibly jeopardize

my married life and career? BUT…I started having bisexual yearnings again. I "practiced" with a candle I had shaped into a

cock at one end, leaving the other to simulate a gradual anal job. I tried on some of my S.O.'s clothes. I finally ditched that when

I graduated, though, and just chalked it up to stress. I was moving on in my life, right? I took my first church job in Southwestern

Indiana, and hoped to leave the "queerness" and "perversity" behind. And that was okay, until mid 1998. I had been going into

chatrooms on my computer as a number of female people (if any of you met me, I was Ami Mizuno at the time). Then, I met

Dan (which isn't his real name). Dan was openly gay to me, and though he kept it quiet from a lot of people, kept flirting with me

when I admitted at a conference to being bisexual in my past. I tried to put off some of the emotions just talking to him was bringing out.

In mid 1999, in a fit of frustration, I bought myself a bra and panties as punishment for playing a woman online. I discovered I

really liked them! I wore them daily after work when the S.O. wasn't home. Sometimes I wore the panties to work. I started

buying more female clothing, jewelry, nails and polish, etc."

So you see…I'm really not that much different than all of you. I remember having to be out of the house for a week, and

panicking about being discovered. So much so that I actually took the time to run home one evening, knowing the S.O.

would be out, scooping everything into two trash bags, and returning to where I needed to be. But, there's more…much more.

Tonight I did something after the church dinner I thought I'd never do. I put on my black lace bra, my sky blue panties, some

lipgloss…and went out for a drink. I drove clear to the center of Evansville, to a gay bar called "Someplace Else". This marks

the first time I have ever gone out in anything like a woman. I decided that it was high time, however, that Jayne went out as

such and met the world. And since her debutante debut back on July 7th, I hadn't really done a whole lot as Jayne lately,

anyway. I didn't stay out long-it was way late when I left-and even later when I got back home. All I did was park the car, walk in,

order a soda, drink it and leave…but it was It was a rush. At the same time, it was the most relaxed I have ever felt in a bar. I may

have to explore these feelings in depth a little later. But for now, I need to try to get some sleep. Right…like I can really sleep

after this experience! I wish I had a teddy to sleep in…

It was not long after that I was let go from my position, and had to move in with some other people…from the book:

"I kept my femme stuff hidden until I lost my job and we moved. I was scared that I'd get discovered…"

That is an understatement. However, it didn't stop me, it just slowed me down a bit:

I had such a good time last night. Even with the late start, and later arrival, I still was able to have a "spa evening" of sorts. Once

in my room in French Lick, I drew a bath and soaked. Then, after drying off, got dressed to the nines. Full makeup, my new

white pumps, white skirt and blouse, magnetic CZ earrings, nails, the works. I looked so good! I was rather depressed when I had

to strip back down, but I did have to sleep at some point. On the way home, I was so horny that I stopped at Dog and Suds and

got two hot dogs…not just to eat but to blow. Once home, getting the stuff back into the crypt was easy; nobody was home. I

didn't want to, but I needed to. After that, though, I went to the shop and gave a good blow job…a girl's gotta keep in practice!

That made me feel somewhat better. I wish I had more time to spend en femme…much less write it all down. Gotta run--more later.

As time went by, however, the fear was just too much. Even though we had a small place of our own to call home, I still was

not able to dress…much less live. Again, from The Weekend Woman:

"…so on Christmas Eve 1999, I pitched it all in the dumpster. I tried to walk away from it all. BUT…I kept coming back to

the realization that I missed it. I had to stop denying who I really was. I was getting sick physically! In a weak moment, I bought

a tin of lipgloss, telling myself it was just to protect my lips from the cold and wind. Soon, though, I started to buy a few things

here and there, and suddenly found I had a bigger (and nicer) wardrobe, including 3 pairs of shoes, and full makeup, to boot. I

started looking around for cross-dressers on the web, and found…precious little. Most of these were badly written kinky porn

stories, nude pictures of shemales, transvestite pictures with really bad makeup jobs, porn sites, and so forth. It was then I

discovered that I was looking under the wrong title. By admitting to being transgendered, I found…some decent fiction, stories

of pre and post op transgendereds, some activist stuff, etc. Still precious little, but better."

That's getting ahead of the story just a bit. But you read it right…Jayne "died" on Christmas Eve, 1999. I took everything

(with the exception of one CZ ring, the Tinkerbell necklace the S.O. helped me buy, the beaded Morse Code necklace I had

made and worn, and some minor toiletries) and pitched it all in a dumpster. And didn't look back for nearly three weeks. She

was dead and gone. Buried, even. And it wasn't until the middle of January 2000 that I started to get physically ill. At the time

I didn't know why, but later on it was determined that I was overcompensating for my Gender Dysphoria. In other words…being

Finally, though, I gave up. I was really wiped out due to various and sundry issues, and so on Valentine's Day, 2000 Jayne was

reborn. I went to Sally's Beauty Supply and bought a tin of "her" lipgloss. I tried to rationalize it by thinking "Hey, it is winter,

and my lips are getting chapped"…and the rest has become history.

Or maybe, in this case, it really is herstory-as it is her story, too.