Stages of awareness and growth (+first coming out story)

I re-wrote the title of this post several times and I'm still not quite happy with it. I hereby reserve the right to re-title this in the future once my thoughts take better form and add context to the subject.

With that said, there have necessarily been many stages of coming out as I have journeyed along this path and for the sake of the current situation I want to review them almost as much for my own understanding as I do for late developments.

Introducing (exposing?) Allie to the world has taken many forms over many years and always has led to greater understanding and self acceptance for me (and occasionally for others). Some have been accidental, some unexpected, some filtered and some planned and then ultimately the most recent unplanned (but not entirely unpredictable) exposition which has led to this posting.

As with the rest of this blog so far, I'll begin chronologically because its the only way I know (even though I suspect for blogging purposes getting to the point of the topic faster would be better) 

The first 'coming out' was to self, and then soon after through inopportune discovery, my ex. 
I suppose my earliest remembrance of that, was countess years ago (1980?), in a tiny studio apartment in a little hamlet of a town on a day with too much time on my hands and a desire to know how I looked in feminine cut jeans and t-shirt (and of course the appropriate undergarments - tmi?). All items which always seemed to be lying randomly strewn about our cottage since for some reason the proper use of a closet and dresser was not on our young list of priorities. So, curiosity got the better of me and so I tried a few looks, and the results weren't bad, and I liked what I saw in my reflection. 

I am still amused by my somewhat disapproving ex's comment one day - "You look better in my jeans than I do - now take them off". But in spite of the negativity of that situation, I remember mostly feeling empowered in some way, and for a rare moment I genuinely liked the person I saw in the mirror.

Fast-forward through about 15 years in seclusive and often drug-fueled long hours of exploration, trial and error, (and guilt, and suppression) to the end of my a once-tolerable marriage which had nothing to do with gender identity and had everything to do with utter lack of participation in a true partnership (which I should own as much as she)

And then along came my current wife - a genuinely caring person that for no expected reason empathized with my profound sense of loss and resulting depression (following the contentious breakup). For a while we were just friends, assuaging each others' pain. I actively resisted starting another romantic relationship for nearly a year; I did not want to repeat that experience which I had just lived through. 

But once it became clear that our intention was to move forward, I had my first real definable coming out conversation with another human being. (also in my mind it was a last ditch effort to push her away actually, but it ultimately had the opposite effect) I was blatantly honest about everything I could think of that might possibly have a negative context for a partnership. "No holds barred" I told myself, "I will not begin anew with any hidden secrets. She deserves better" (and I deserve to be accepted for all that I am).

Allie had no name then (in fact I didn't even understand that Allie was more than a deviant behavior characteristic) and I presented it as such. "Hey, you should also know that I enjoy experimenting with women's clothing, and it makes me happy." I presented myself as being a secretive cross dresser. I also shared other dark personal secrets about criminal background, drug use, and any other bad acts that I could think of that might ward off the necessity to become entangled with and make myself vulnerable at the whims of another. 

And you know what happened? It actually strengthened the respect and admiration she had for me. That I would be so candidly honest and authentic. A valuable lesson learned that day.

So fast forward again through many more years of status quo, still secretive (Known only between my wife and I) cross dressing, and the occasional late night / early morning drive to the beach etc. because even though I didn't know it at the time, Allie was wanting to be out in the world. I interpreted it as a source for an adrenaline rush, a legal but still risky behavior (risky in my mind, but only for fear of humiliation). 

I kept Allie unnamed and in secret for the usual reasons - career, and fear of rejection from friends and family, plus I still had a responsibility to my kids to present as much stability and as normal of a home environment as possible (when they indeed were at home with me.) There was always the dynamic in play that as children of divorce they could become wards of the state if my qualifications to parent were further challenged in any way, (and their mother failed to provide as well which if you knew the situation you would agree to be far from unlikely). 

So I adhered to the standard divorced father role model as much as possible. My wife and I got clean together in the first year we were a couple, and eliminated drugs from our lives and eliminated the friends from our lives that were prone to do otherwise. And we settled in to the theme that has been the norm for most of my adult life; that being simple survival in one of the most expensive places to live on the planet (or at least in this country)

As the children aged to adulthood and moved on with their lives, the necessity to 'play it safe' diminished; but my incredibly low self-esteem and (for lack of a better descriptor) inertia, left me wont to continue suppressing the beautiful parts of me, and living the 'safe life' of denial, conformity, and keeping my head down.

My daughter once asked me what happened to the happy fun person that I was in her early youth. I have wondered myself and usually when I thought of that question my answer was that he was killed by the mantle of responsibility. But as I have been writing this I realize that he also went into hiding. Not that Allie would have made me more fun as a dad; but the act of suppressing her and all other possible avenues for failure as a provider caused me to suppress the carefree and fun person I was too, regardless of gender.

Towards the later end of this decades long narrative I even had the opportunity to know and work together with a person who transitioned FtM while we worked in the same organisation. The ability was there for me to interact with them and learn, and more importantly embrace Him, and be an ally and a supportive acquaintance; but I did not do so out of fear. 
In retrospect, I am ashamed at my lack of spine; but I assuage that feeling with the knowledge that never once did I participate in any of the gossip or denigrating processes that went on behind the scenes in our office. I didn't do the right thing, but I also did not do the wrong thing either. Ever the perpetual khaki personality, that was me; until now...