Living A Double Life
Living a double life for 40 years wasn’t easy. I sometimes joke that after all those years, I felt like Superman — dressing as a woman any chance I had. To help you understand, let me start from the beginning, when I was 13 years old and first started dressing. I began by exploring my mother’s closet, admiring all the wonderful clothes she wore, from midi dresses and skirts to minidresses. My mom was stunning in her younger days — honestly, she still is, even now at 83. Although my mother had some incredible clothes, I was especially drawn to the style of my Aunt Harriet, so I’d take my mother’s clothes and style them to match what I imagined my aunt would wear. Growing up, whenever I had the chance, I would dress up. After school — and especially during summer break — I would dress for hours, watching the clock for when my mom might come home. She never told me exactly when to expect her, which, in hindsight, gave me plenty of time to enjoy being myself. Even without knowing her exact schedule, I kept my male clothes ready so I could change back in an instant the moment I heard her coming in.
As I got older and started shopping for my own clothes, I found hiding places around the house that no one could find — a dropped ceiling in my bedroom, a footlocker, and even the trunk of my car. Sometimes I would mix my women’s clothes in with my regular clothes in a drawer or closet. I got quite skilled at hiding things. When I would drive somewhere, I’d change nearby, such as in the car at a park or gas station, and change back into my male clothes before arriving at my destination. I got so good at changing that I could go from male to female in about ten minutes, makeup included. I always carried a jug of water in the car to wipe off my makeup afterward. One of the hardest parts of living this way was remembering which name I was using at any given time — especially with separate email accounts for each identity, since I had to keep straight who I was in every piece of writing, particularly at work. There were many times my mind stayed in “Karen mode” even while at my day job. I used to imagine coming to work dressed as Karen and living that way full-time — even picturing myself taking the metro or walking down the street as Karen, wondering what that life might feel like, never fully understanding at the time why I felt that pull so deeply.
Years later, I got married, and the hardest part was learning to live authentically while trying not to hurt someone I loved. I was married for 18 years, and I knew somewhere inside that something wasn’t right, even though I didn’t fully understand it myself yet. After my divorce, once I realized and accepted that I was transgender, I tried calling my ex to say, “I’m sorry.” I reached out several times to apologize, but she never returned my calls. My stepkids knew I wanted to say those words to her, but she still wouldn’t take the call. Even so, I did apologize to the kids, and maybe one day she’ll read this and understand, deep down, that I never meant to hurt her. Today, I can truly understand who I am, and I’m 200% happier than I have ever been in my life.