Member-only story
On occasion when I was following my very long path to transgender womanhood, I did experience enough hope to keep moving forward towards my ultimate goal of living a fulltime feminine life.
Those were the days I was on top of the world and felt good about my life as a whole. Sadly, too many times my dreams were crushed mainly with me making poor gender decisions. Those were the nights I returned home with tears in my eyes following brutal interactions with the public. I was at the least stared at and at the worst laughed at to my face. Since I had only the mirror to blame for lying to me, I needed to find a better way to improve my presentation as a novice cross dresser or transgender woman.
Really, the only recourse I had was to keep going out hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Very gradually, out of sheer will power, I did become better at my craft and my confidence grew. I was climbing my mountain of hope and staying there. Sadly, my only mound of ash came when I was discovered by my second wife when I was returning home after a night out. Predictably a massive fight would happen, and feelings would be hurt. It wasn’t until years later when I finally had the courage to face my gender truth and finally transition. By that time my wife had passed away and it was a moot point. Following her passing, I found I had another mountain to climb.
