Lynne's Story
By Lynne Blythe
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I was still very troubled in my mind. My older sister, at that time, lived in London and worked for a psychiatrist. On one leave, when I visited her I wanted to ask if I could see her Boss but I did not have the courage to ask her so I was not able to raise the issue with such a person who, I was sure, could advise me what to do. I needed help because inside of me there is a woman screaming to get out! She cries and hammers at me incessantly and is always there, every minute of the day.
I speculated one one or two occasions of actually "jumping ship" and trying to make a new life for myself, but as usual, it never happened.
Then the best thing in my life happened, I met a wonderful girl and we got married! I loved her then as I love her now, 46 years later and despite my knowledge of myself as a woman in a man's body, I continue to love her desperately.
Later in life I actually managed to pluck up the courage to see a psychiatrist. I went to him for about 10 or 11 years and he enabled me to see myself from the inside. He prescribed, and I accepted, that I should take female hormones. He said, and was proved right by a lot of medical evidence in books on the subject, that the hormones actually make the mind believe that it is a woman. Therefore the compulsion to wear feminine clothes tends to diminish, not vanish, but certainly become less compulsive.
I told him of a dream which I have been having ever since I was a little boy. In the dream I wake up one morning and find that I am in a beautiful feminine bed-room, am quite a beautiful woman and do not know who on earth I am. I hear men's voices beyond a door and wonder where on earth I am. I never have opened that door and have often wondered what I would find in my dream if I did!
Also later in life, my wife became more accepting of this strange feeling of her husband. She actually said that if I was to persist in this, I should do it well and not look too much like a freak! She helped me to buy and to wear, good clothes. She helped me to understand the art of make-up and how to use it to best effect. She showed me how women walk, how they talk, how they hold their hands, and many other things that men never consciously notice.
I had to learn all of them. It was a wonderful learning period, at last being more or less accepted as a person within a person. How does my wife accept me? Readers would have to ask her that and not me. I love her dearly and have always tried to treat her as a queen, in a manner in which I would like to have been treated if ever I had been a woman.
I have often said that I may not be a woman, but I try at all times to be a lady!
I plucked up enough courage to make contact with a lady in a School of Beauty. She was, and still is, wonderfully understanding and helpful with the art of make-up. She has advised me the products which I should use and to her I owe a debt of gratitude. She was not, and still is not, at all perturbed by this "man" who wants to look like a woman.
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