This all might be a blessing in the long run ...
My niece (my oldest sister's oldest daughter) will be going to college locally starting in the fall semester. Due to a shortage of funds she will be living with my wife, my mother and me.
My niece is a beautiful young lady who is trying desperately to spread her wings. She is and has been very openly supportive of the LBGT community. I have little doubt when I come out to the family she will be there for me.
This all comes with mixed emotions. It is difficult enough for my wife and I to spend time alone together, but having the additional person to talk to and to help out around the house will be great. Part of me enjoys the thought of more people in the house and wouldn't mind my oldest nephew moving in (his job is relatively close to us), and par of me wants to pack up and move to Bethel, Alaska ... or Trinidad, Colorado ... or some other part of the country that is not over populated and not near anyone I know.
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Date - Spring 1981
My brother had moved away to college and I was the last child in the house. I had my choice of bedrooms, the television to myself and several other perks. I also had uninterrupted access to my sister's clothes which were stored in the house ... I was elated ... A bit lonely, but elated.
I was a sophomore in high school. One of the units in the spring P.E. curriculum was first aid. I did not understand how learning first was considered physical, but it meant that I would not have to go into that God awful locker room and undress in front of all the boys who I never could relate to.
I loved P.E. I love playing softball, football, volleyball and other competitive games. I just could not, and still cannot tolerate the gym rats, bullies, jocks and other imbeciles with over elevated testosterone levels. Of course the glam girls and princesses on the female aspect of the spectrum leave a lot to be desired as well ...
Anyway ... The first week I did not have to dress out for P.E. I was so relieved and relaxed. It didn't dawn on me until later that my gender issues made getting undressed on a daily basis was making me neurotic. The second week I wore my sister's underwear, It fit a lot better since I had grown some between my freshman and sophomore years ... Nobody knew. The third week I wore her jeans and underwear. I was so nervous, but at the same time intensely excited ... it was the closest to being a girl I had ever been.
I really wanted to tell my parents. I wanted to ask them if I could dress like a girl ... if I could be a girl. I was too scared. My father had already called me an effeminate queer because my hair was too long ... I could not chance being tossed out because I wasn't man enough for his WWII military taste,
At the end of the third week I sat in my room and cried. The next week it would be over. I would be back in all boy clothes and heading back to the den of testosterone and sweat.