The Beach House

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The Beach House

This has got to be the craziest thing I've ever done.

I've been dressing for quite some time. I've been to parties and functions with friends dressed.

I'd been seeing a therapist for a few months. She had done a good job helping me sort things out. Am I a crossdresser? Am I transgendered?

Am I "a woman trapped in a man's body?" I could use every cliche in the book to describe the fact that I've struggled with my gender identity since I was in elementary school, maybe younger.

This to me was the next step, even at 38. Could I really make the transition completely to a woman? Should I even try? Do I even want to?

Perhaps this was the reason this weekend was important to me.

When I brought up the idea with my therapist, she felt I should go for it, see how it goes.

A fellow "sister" offered her beach house on a secluded part of beach between Orange Beach and Pensacola. It was enough to offer me some privacy, while venturing out, so to speak.

I had friends offer to come with me. But I felt this was something I needed to go alone.

I sort of regretted that decision as I unpacked. I left my home at 4 a.m. "dressed" with a spaghetti-strapped shirt and a blue jean skirt.

There wasn't a stitch of men's clothes on me. And I was more than 300 miles from home.

I felt lonely as I hung four dresses in the closet. I put a couple of capri pants, skirts and tops in the drawer, along with my underwear, panties, bras, teddies.

I went immediately into the bathroom and began the never-ending battle with the razor. The legs and the under arms were a piece of cake. The chest was the toughest, but I managed as smooth a body as I could. I also felt I did an adequate job with the facial hair.

But it was a struggle.

As was the image of what I saw in the mirror, but I'd faced that as long as I could remember.

I took off the top and skirt and put on the one-piece suit I bought once on an outing with a friend. It was nothing flashy.

I fixed my hair, put on a little makeup, grabbed a windbreaker and a sun-visor.

I grabbed a bottle of wine my friend left me in the fridge, a Nora Roberts book and a beach chair and walked out of this little house overlooking the Gulf of Mexico.

The Gulf Coast has always been one of my favorite vacation spots since I was a child and my family made what seemed like the annual track to Panama City Beach.

Being at the beach relaxed me. And this part of the beach suited me. I was never one for crowds. There were beach houses about a quarter of a mile of either sides of me.

That was about it.

I tried to take in the sun rays while reading my book. You could hear the seagulls talking back and forth.

"Oh, it's find down here Alex," I said to my friend in a conversation on the cellphone. "Letting me have the house for a few days was a very nice thing to do. Oh, I'll manage. I'm a little lonely. I'll make do."

A brought a few movies along for the DVD player. I was well stocked with food, so there wasn't really going to be a reason to venture out very far from home base.

All I intended to do was take in the ocean. And take in the woman that screamed so much to come out.

The truth is this trip was a victory lap in addition to a beginning step toward a potential transition to womanhood.

When I began to confront this woman inside, I weighed about 250 pounds, which was not very good on a 5-10 frame for a man, much less a woman.

Maybe the hormones will eventually bring what little curves this soon to be middle-aged-body has left in it.

But I knew hitting the gym and watching what I ate could do something about the "gut" I had. I'm now very proud of the abs I have. They're not of the rock solid variety, but still reasonably flat. I thought I had a decent "figure" for a "woman" of 38, minus of course the breasts and a little bit wider hips.

I was a little more comfortable enough with my skin, comfortable to be wearing a one-piece on a near-deserted beach. Tomorrow, the bikini comes out, even if I have to wear a T-shirt over it.

I found myself enjoying the sea breeze and observing the passers-by on the beach, even though there were not a whole lot.

A young couple walked by, as did a family. The couple from what I could tell was staying at the house to my right.

Then I noticed a man who appeared to be in his 40s or young 50s walking his dog down the beach. He waved. I waved back and went back to my book.

Every once in a while, I would turn on my radio to hear some music. I'm more of a classic rock kind of girl. I was a child of the 80s, what can I say?

I watched a charter fishing boat go by and wondered if they caught any fish. A there was a group out parasailing. Pretty soon the sun began to go down.

The young couple walked back to their house. I noticed the family with nets, chasing after sand crabs I supposed. I began to get a little chilled in my suit.

The man who waved at me a couple of hours before was making his way back down the beach, his dog leading the way. He had a beer in his hand.

Suddenly fear ran through my mind as he and his dog started coming my way.

There are times when I feel passable. But there are times when I knew if people looked really hard, that could tell I wasn't a "woman" on the outside.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Pretty well," I said. "Just out here enjoying being away."

"We need to get away every now and then," he said. "That's the reason I'm your neighbor."

He pointed to the beach house to my left.

"Mind if I have a seat," he said.

"No, help yourself," I said, pulling a towel out of the bag I brought with me.

I gave it to him to sit on.

"Name's Joe Serrano," he said.

"Torey...Torey Allen," I replied. "Nice to meet you."

At this point, I could just die. I wondered what his reaction was going to be when he found out I wasn't a "real woman."

He proceeded to tell me part of his life's story. He was a recently divorced veteran, recently retired auto worker. He invested well.

But the divorce put him under a lot of stress. The ex, it seems, took a large portion of his possessions in the settlement. At least he ended up with the dog.

Then he asked the question-of-all-questions.

Here it goes, I thought. I hoped he hadn't had enough alcohol that he would resort to violence.

"Are you transgendered?" he asked.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked.

"Actually, not as much as you might think," he said.

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment," I said.

"Well, you should," he said.

He then proceeded to ask me questions about my life. I was amazed he seemed interested. I was amazed by how polite he seemed.

"I never really knew anybody who was," he said. "I know it's got to be a tough life."

"Yes it is," I replied. "It's one reason why I'm down here."

"Listen, I'm going to be putting a steak on the grill," he said. "I could put two on if you would like. I'm a bit lonely and could really use the company."

"Sure," I said. "About what time would you like me to come by?"

"Maybe around 7?" he said.

That would get me plenty to time to get dressed, I thought.

*****

I really struggled with what to wear. Should I go with just a pair of capri pants and a decent shirt? I finally settled on a yellow dress I'd brought with me. I put on a little more makeup and put my earrings in. The hair was a little bit tougher.

I didn't want to come across like I wanted something romantic. But I thought something a little more than casual was in order.

As I walked over to his house, I realized I made a decent choice. He was dressed up in a nice shirt and slacks.

He whistled as I came up the steps of his deck carrying my shoes.

"You look really nice," he said as he slid open the door to let his dog out.

"The steaks smell really good," I said.

"They're almost done," he said. "I thought we'd eat out here on the deck."

It was a really good idea. The sun looked really beautiful as it seemed to set right into the Gulf.

And you could see the families out with their flashlights looking for more crabs.

"Maybe we should join them tomorrow night and stretch our legs a bit," he said.

"That might be a good idea," I said. "I could use a little exercise. And after eating this, I'll probably need to lose a few pounds."

"You women and your weight," he said. "I think you look great."

He didn't how how I appreciated being called a woman.

He told me more about his service in Desert Storm, and about his grown kids. And why he thought his marriage broke up.

I told him about my family.

He, of course, asked me about my transition. He couldn't believe I had just started.

"How does your family treat you?" he asked.

I told him it was an issue in my divorce. I told him my kids seemed to be handling at well as they could.

"I try not to be in-your-face about it," I said. "I just want to live my life."

"I can't blame you for that," he said.

He asked if I mind if he put on a little music. I told him I didn't. We had similar tastes, although he did like a little country.

"Torey, would you care to dance?" he asked.

It was the first time I'd ever been asked to slow dance while I was dressed. To be honest, I struggled as much with the sexual orientation thing as I did gender identity.

Just how did I feel being asked by a man to dance?

"I was afraid you'd never ask," I said as he pulled me out of my chair and then put his arm around my waist.

I blamed it on the moonlight.

I did the leading when I was married. It was the first time anyone ever led me in a slow dance.

I laughed when he first "dipped" me.

"You know, I know a place down here where I could take you dancing where you really wouldn't feel too uncomfortable," he said.

"You know, that might be fun," I said.

He told me he was impressed with how I danced. I was actually really impressed by him. I told him it felt like we were on Dancing With The Stars."

I found him to be incredibly charming.

"Torey, can I ask you a question?" he asked.

"Well, that was one," I said jokingly. "But go ahead."

"Would you be upset if I kissed you?" he asked.

It brought tears to my eyes. I shook my head no.

He gave me a very passionate, romantic kiss.

I gave him one back.

I blamed it on the moonlight.

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Comments

Really nice

I feel better now. Thank you.
Hilltopper

Gina_Summer2009__2__1_.jpgHilltopper

This was a

short, sweet, stunningly romantic story.

Bailey Summers

romantic

nice little romantic tale. maybe there will be a part 2?

DogSig.png

Beaches and oceans have a

Beaches and oceans have a way of doing that to you, especially if there is moonlight to go with it all. Very nice and very romantic. Torey's new friend is a real find and a real jewel of humanity. I am wondering if Torey's girlfriend who offered her the beach place had mentioned her previously to the neighbor as he did not seem all that surprised or upset that she was staying next to his home? Jan

You Have Nice Style

Nicely done. So much story in so little space.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Ditto what Angela said

Like many of the best stories here every word has its place and every word belongs. There is little that is fluff or filler here.

Charming and sentimental, two damaged souls finding each other and who knows but it looks hopeful.

I'd blaim it on the moonlight too, it's so romantic. Candles and tiki torches are romantic as well.

Mind you though if you toss a match on the Gulf of Mexico nowdays you don't need tiki torches.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Yes, very nice

Gently sentimental, with a soft flicker of romance.

SuZie

SuZie

very nice

kristina l s's picture

A lovely gentle optimistic peek into a slice of a life. Short and sweet and adult in the best sense.

Kristina

..perchance to dream

Angharad's picture

A nice tale gently told.

Angharad

Angharad

Very nice story

I do hope Joe isn't a "tranny hawk," a guy who is very nice and supportive, but more after what's in her purse than her pants. . .

Avery nice story!

What Everyone Else Said

joannebarbarella's picture

A lovely short romantic piece. I kinda hope it's autobiographical, but then I'm an old softy,

Joanne