The Club

       Pretty much, everything you have read now takes you up to 1991. My wardrobe had been

growing by leaps and bounds, and it was taking two suitcases and a couple of boxes to hold all

of it. Through all of the growing pains, I was very content with dressing at night and sitting around

watching TV while I was dressed. But then the itch came. You know the one I am talking about,

the one where it starts inside, and just about drives you insane. The itch to move on and meet

others just like you, if indeed there is such an animal. After all when we start this process, we do

not even think that there are others like us, we are just too odd for others to do this also. But

then we realize that there are other people out there, suffering just like us, cooped up in their

own little closet, whether it be their basement, bedroom or bathroom. They are out there, silently

suffering from the lack of confidence to step forward, to stand in the sunlight and bask in the glow,

letting all the goodness and specialness of the moment flow into them. For some, it will never

come, but for the majority, it does happen and when it does, it is indeed a special day, one to

savor.

       Anyway, the itch came to me and it was a powerful one, the kind that sits under a cast. The

idea of enjoying this all alone was now boring. So I struck out, venturing out late at night, once or

twice a month, driving to who knows where, not thinking about a flat tire or a mechanical failure,

just the thought of being out was so powerful as to short circuit all the rational thoughts.

       Then one day in a book store, fate and destiny played another trump card to me. In a

magazine that I bought there was a listing for a convention. And best of all, it was in my home

town. But the magazine was somewhat dated and the convention had already been held. But there

was an address and a phone number for a local support group! I couldn't believe my eyes! There

were others out there like me! Well, faster than you can say Pentium, I had a letter in the mail

inquiring about membership into the club.

       And within a few days, I got a response with an application to fill out and return. And though

I don't remember the actual day, that is the day that Theresa was officially born, for you see I had

to give my femme name? and having never thought about it, I sat down and it popped into my

head as if I knew it all along. Lickity split, it was in the mail and again, within days, I received a

response by mail with a date and directions to an interview.

        Now, all motors were humming, full warp speed Scotty! Nerves played no part in this as it

was as if the weight of the world was about to be thrown from my shoulders. The day of the

interview came and I went to the restaurant full of hope and expectation, seemingly more alive than

I had been in quite some time.

        There I was met by a man, who took me into the back of the lounge, where we sat down

and were joined by two other men, none of them even remotely looking like a women, but then

neither did I. The vibrations coming from these three souls left me feeling very good about this and

what I was about to do, so long as I met there criteria. Time passed so quickly, three hours had

gone by and we were having a delightful time. I was admitted into the club, I paid my initiation fee

and dues and was given the date of the next meeting. I told them to expect me to be there and we

parted ways.

       I had roughly three weeks to get ready for the meeting, and just like a woman, just knew I

had to have a new outfit for the occasion. So I went shopping! What else would a girl do? Though

I was still very confused about sizing charts, and they still don't make sense today, though I can

read them now, I was at the mercy of the sales clerks and that was a scary thought. But I pressed

onwards and finally found what I was looking for at a store on the other side of town from me.

       The week before the meeting, I called in my reservations for an overnight room and before

I knew it, Saturday was here. I had packed the night before and left the house, driving over to the

motel where the meeting was held. Once there, driven by the fact that I was finally going to get

this over with, my nerves were those of the athlete ready for the big game. On edge certainly, but

not afraid of what was going to happen in the least.

       I checked in with the club people, now all women, and got my room key. Once there, I

unpacked and set about to relax before getting ready for the big night. Getting ready didn't take

as long as I thought it would, and before you know it, I was ready. A final check of my purse,

clothes and face and I opened that final closet door and stepped out into the world. Down the

hall to the meeting room door, and once inside, I started down the stairs, my only thoughts at

that time were that if every one there was 5'7" and 130 lbs. I would just die. But once in the room,

which by that time was pretty filled by all kinds of women, short, tall, thin and heavy, gorgeous

and not so gorgeous, I knew that I had finally found it, my place, where I knew I would not have

any trouble fitting in.

        Though I was basically a wall flower the entire evening, I still had a great time and did meet

almost everyone there. That was September of 1991 and as far as I am concerned it was a very

good time to be alive and enjoy the experience of it all.

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