APRIL

This is a fantasy, nothing more (at least most of it).

I sit here in my slik lounging PJ's and think about the events which

have led me to be comfortable with myself as I am. It hasn't been an

easy road to travel, but it has yielded some good results. . . and I

am happy!I've been crossdressing since I was a little girl of about

10. My sister's huge closet filled with so many pretty clothes made

me jealous. Eventually I started trying some of them on. It was

partly to satisfy my envy and partly to escape the abuse we all

suffered under the hand of my stepfather . . . abuse which, for the

most part she seemed to be spared. I was sure that I was in for more

of it when I was caught one day by my older brother! But he didn't

say anything.

As the years went by I crossdressed off and on, discovering in the

process my mother's lingerie drawer. Her taste in lingerie was

"primitive," certainly not my own. But at least it was there. It was

there that I first came to cherish the feel of panties, stockings, and

a brassiere cupped around my small "breasts." Later, after I had

moved out on my own and had bought a few items of lingerie for myself,

I looked back on those days with a sad fondness coupled with chagrin.

Chagrin at the thought of the unflattering and unpretty things she had

chosen to wear. Fondness at the memories of the gentle but anxious

discovery of my own body and longings.

After many years I came to the point where I could no longer control

the urge to crossdress. It seemingly came and went of its own accord.

I finally decided that this was a part of who I am and that I needed

to explore and get to know this part of me. In my explorations I was

introduced to Maria. Maria ran a place called The Farm. The Farm is a

place, away from any major cities, where men are taught to be women.

It's where you can cease to be male and immerse yourself in

femininity, becoming a woman in "body", in mind, and in psyche. You

learn to look, act, think, and feel like a woman. It is an

experiential place, you learn by doing and by experiencing.

Maria is a post-op transsexual in her late 40's or early 50's. She

made a similar journey to each of us ending, of course, with the

complete and total transformation to woman-hood. She started The Farm

after she realized that there are so many of us who are struggling to

come to grips with our femininity and who are seeking to find out its

place in our lives. She doesn't try to convince anyone to become

female. She doesn't claim to be a counseling center for TS's,

although she does hold a Ph.D. in clinical psychology. this is simply

a place to explore and learn about a part of yourself.

I first learned of The Farm from my friend, Kara, who had been there.

She is a magnificent woman. Her male persona, Bill, arranged an

introduction to her female persona via a blind date. We found we had

much in common and became good frineds. The transformation from male

to female was so complete that I thought that these were two

completely different people. I didn't find out that they weren't

until I had been friends with each persona for several weeks. After

we had known each other for many months Kara decided to tell me about

The Farm. The number of people who know about this place is few. The

number who have been there is far fewer. Maria is very careful about

who she sees and helps.

Kara introduced me to Maria. I had to come as a male and make the

transformation to female in front of Maria. She interviewed me first

as a man and then, after my transformation, as a woman. I had to

convince Maria that I had the time to devote to The Farm and the

desire to see this experience through to the end. Maria explained

that we were always free to leave if we should decide to. But she

didn't like starting with someone who turned out to not be serious

about becoming truly feminine.

Somehow I managed to convince Maria and the next month I bade goodbye

to Kara and left for The Farm. I had no idea what I was in for but I

was very excited about whatever was in store.

The Farm

When I arrived at the airport I was met by a large black limousine

with windows tinted so dark that I was sure it belonged to the Mafia

. . . or the Secret Service. Inside I found three other men. We

exchanged nervous glances and sat in silence as we rode to the Farm.

As the door closed behind me, I realized that the windows were not

only too dark to see inside, they were too dark to see clearly outside

as well. We traveled for about three hours. After the first hour the

four of us finally started to talk. We were all scared and unsure

about our decision. Interestingly, no one really talked about why

they were there (although we all knew) and no one said their femme

name. We seemingly pretended that we were going somewhere else.

We arrived eventually at The Farm. We were met by some very polite

young men and women who took our luggage, gave us some preliminary

information, and asked us to be seated in the main conference room.

In the conference room we found several others waiting. There were

about 12 of us in all. After a few minutes Maria arrived and asked us

to be seated. She explained that we were free to leave at any time.

All we had to do was ask and we would be taken home at no expense to

us. We were also asked to sign a statement of non-disclosure

guaranteeing that we would not openly divulge to the general public

the whereabouts of The Farm or what happened there.

Next Maria went into many of the same topics we had each been trying

to deal with: Are we gay? Are we TS? She explained that popular

pornography degrades TV's and TS's to the point that it is seen as a

perversion by most people, to include many TV's and TS's. She had

dealt with this for many years before coming to grips with her own

identity and choosing to become Maria in body as well as in soul. Her

sole purpose at The Farm was to help us each realize what being TV's

meant, what being female meant, and, possibly, to help us deal with

questions beyond that. She said emphatically that The Farm was not

there to convince any of us to become female (TS), or to convince any

of us who weren't already to become gay, or to in any way mess us up

mentally. The Farm was a place of experiential learning. This was

crucial, she explained, because women were not only biologically

different from men, but they had been raised differently as well. It

was indeed a rare woman who had grown up with the freedom to chose

that a man was given, regardless of the subject. Women were also

indoctrinated in behaviors such as being subservient to men, taking

care of the basic common business of life, different sexual behaviors,

and so on. In order to make the full transition into a female role,

we would have to understand that psychological side of being feminine

as well as the physical side of clothing, behavior, and makeup. We

would each have to deal with the experiences in our own way. Maria

and her staff were there to help us if we needed it and to stop any

treatment which we felt was manipulative and harmful. She and her

staff would be checking in with each of us periodically to see how we

were dealing with the situations we would find ourselves in. They

also, she explained, had the prerogative to remove any of us from the

program if they thought that we weren't dealing with things in a

healthy manner.

With that she introduced us to the staff. We were told of the general

program. There was no specified time limit for completion. We could

be finished in as little as four weeks or we might stay there as long

as four months. A few had stayed even longer. We would receive

instruction is makeup, hair, clothing, behavior, etc. as part of the

program. The real learning, though, came from working with these

variables in the real world. The Farm would provide a safe semblance

of the real world in which we could practice before being

re-introduced to our normal real world.

The Fun Begins

The first week was all classes. We were evaluated for and taught our

proper makeup colors and techniques. We were taught about wigs,

although we were encouraged to find a style for our natural hair. We

were taught about clothing and shoes. We were prescribed diets to

help us slim down to a more feminine size and put into exercise

programs to shape specific areas of our bodies which didn't naturally

look all that feminine. In short, we were being taught to look like

the women we had always thought we should be. It was hard for many of

us, but our desire was deep and we stayed with it. After only a week

I began to see dramatic changes in the way I looked, walked, even

felt. There were no drugs or hormones given. Such treatments, Maria

explained, were outside the charter of The Farm. If we wanted those

treatments we would have to seek them elsewhere. She could provide

referals if we desired.

Brad

All of our male attire was placed in sealed bags and stored for us.

When we left it would be returned to us. While at The Farm we wore

female attire exclusively. The first week it was mostly casual

attire, warm-ups and such, but we did get to wear dresses on occasion.

Sunday evening of the first week we were given a cocktail party to

celebrate our success during that week. The dress was, of course,

cocktail dresses, etc. We all arrived looking quite female and very

different from when we had arrived only a week earlier.

We were surprised to find men at the party. Not the staff whom we had

become comfortable with, but other men dressed in appropriate

masculine attire as well. These men quickly introduced themselves to

us and conversations were well underway when Maria arrived. We were

invited into the dining room were a lovely candlelight banquet was set

for us. We each found ourselves sitting with men in foursomes. The

men at our tables were the ones we had been conversing with the most.

I suddenly felt like a pick-up. I was a little upset by this but, at

the same time, flattered by the thought that this man would find me

attractive enough to meet and to pick up. I wondered what he would

expect.

We dined and the conversation was friendly and comfortable. We drank

wine and chatted after dinner for what seemed like forever. Everyone

seemed to be forming actual couples although there didn't seem to be

any pressure to do so. After a while Maria stood and spoke. She told

us that the gentlemen with whom we had been talking were long-time

associates of hers and The Farm's. They were part of the program

whenever they could make the time to do so. These gentlemen had

consented to join us for the next few weeks. It was up to us to form

relationships with these men and find one who was compatible with us.

We were expected to date and, perhaps even live together. we would be

taught more about being female by these gentlemen over the next few

weeks as we practiced the first weeks teachings in a "real world"

environment. No word was specifically said about sex.

After that Maria bid us good evening and wished us the best for the

next few weeks.

As dinner broke up I found myself walking with a strikingly handsome

man named Brad. Brad and I had several common interests from both

work and non-work activities. We strolled about the grounds for a

long time. Finally he took my hand, kissed it sweetly, and said that

he would like to be my partner. I said that I would like that. He

kissed me lightly on the lips. We turned to walk some more, me

holding his arm. We encountered several other couples who were also

walking arm-in-arm. Everything seemed so romantic and beautiful.

Brad and I agreed to date for the next week or so and see where that

went. In short order we found ourselves at my room. It was late and

I needed to get to bed, but I hated to leave this romantic situation.

I was also worried about being asked to have sex with Brad, although

there had been no overt mention of it by him. Brad spoke softly and

sweetly, wishing me a good evening. He kissed me gently but fully on

the lips. I found myself moving toward him and returning his kiss, my

arms going around his neck. When we parted I was no longer sure that

I DIDN'T want this beautiful man to come inside with me. Brad ended

my quandary by saying goodnight and leaving.

The next morning I sat with my friends at breakfast prior to attending

the days regimen of exercise and classes. The talk was, of course,

all about last evenings events. They each had had similar

experiences. We were all in wonder of what would come next. A few,

who were gay, had actually had sex with their partners and were

planning to move in with them the next day or two. I left breakfast

wondering if we were all really expected to follow suit. I found

myself working extra hard during exercise class and paying a little

more attention to the other classes that morning.

I met Brad for lunch, as we had planned. He was just as sweet as the

evening before and I found myself wanting to drown in his deep blue

eyes. He gave me no pressure to do anything and, after a while, I

found myself wondering if there was anything wrong with me. He

glanced away once and I looked where he had. I saw another of us

girls and became immediately jealous. I suggested that we leave the

cafe and go somewhere else.

That afternoon we went horseback riding. I discovered new ways to sit

with my penis pushed down between my legs. After a while I had to

pull it back up and out of the way. Brad told me that there was a

dance that evening and asked if I would attend with him. I, of

course, said that I would. Brad was just as sweet all during the

ride. Still no pressure. Ours was fast becoming a platonic-plus

relationship. I sensed that he would enjoy having sex with me but

that he would not ask. I still wondered if there wasn't something

wrong with me.

We returned from the ride about 3:30. The dance was at 8:00 and Brad

wanted to go to dinner before. We agreed that he would pick me up at

7:00 for dinner. I rushed home to bathe and get dressed. Now I was

looking back over my notes on makeup, hair, dress, even how to walk,

talk, and eat like a "lady." I found myself eagerly anticipating our

date and wondering where it would end. I was determined to make sure

that Brad noticed no other girl there but me!A Loss Of InnocenceAt

7:00 on the button Brad showed up at my room. I was dressed in an

strapless pink evening dress, tea length with a short white jacket

with half sleeves. The neckline was deep in the front and deeper in

the back. Underneath I had a strapless bra to accommodate the

necklines while still maintaining breast forms in place, G-String

panties, garters and stockings. My shoes matched the dress and had 2

inch heels. My hair was not long enough for a suitable style so I

wore a shoulder length wig that matched my own natural reddish-auburn

hair color.

Brad was resplendent in his black tux. He complimented me on my

dress, makeup, and hair. He had a corsage for me which I let him pin

onto my jacket. I was blushing the entire time, feeling like a

schoolgirl going to her first prom. We walked to dinner arm-in-arm as

I felt my walk change with each step. My bottom was really swaying

and I couldn't seem to control it. In truth, I didn't want to control

it. I was really starting to feel feminine and enjoyed being with

Brad.

At dinner we sat alone. Brad doted on me totally. I loved the

attention and could have sat there for hours. I don't even remember

what we had to eat. But the dance started and we had to go. We had

covered dancing during the first week and had practiced some. Still,

I had never actually danced with a man like this and was a little

nervous. Brad took me in his arms and swept me away on air (at least

it seemed like it). We danced without stopping for more than an hour.

Finally, a little tired, we went for a drink. As I waited for Brad to

return with our drinks, I saw that most of the others were there with

their dates as well. Some were snuggled in a corner and were

obviously making plans for after the dance, if not during. As Brad

returned, a couple of my friends came by on the way to the Ladies

Room. I excused myself and joined them. We talked about our dates

and how things were going. I found out that one of them had already

agreed to move in with her partner and that the other was seriously

thinking about it. I mumbled something about not wanting to appear

too easy and all that. My friends smiled acceptance. Still, I was a

little uncomfortable with their reaction.

I returned to find Brad talking with another of my friends . . . the

same one he had looked at earlier. I joined the conversation and

quickly steered it away from their topic and onto the plans Brad and I

had made earlier. I wanted her gone from the conversation as quickly

as possible. She finally left after saying something about seeing

Brad around. I thought, "over my dead body, Bitch!"We finished our

drinks and returned to the dance floor. We danced for another hour

and then decided to leave. It was getting late and the dance would be

ending in another half hour or so, anyway. As we walked back to my

room, Brad put his arm around me and snuggled me closely. I didn't

resist. We reached a particularly pretty and romantic spot and he

stopped, turned, drew me close, and kissed me deeply on the lips. I

drew closer to him and felt his erect penis hard against me. I smiled

knowing that I could arouse him after all. We finished the kiss and

without a word he held me close. I was so relieved that he could get

excited over me. I noticed that he seemed to be looking in another

direction and pulled apart to look that way myself. I saw another

couple who had been walking by. The man had left for a moment to do

something and she was standing there alone, looking our way. Brad was

looking at her! I got so angry that I almost wanted to hit him. I

realized, though, that the way to keep him from looking at others was

to make him think only of me. I pulled him back into another kiss and

pressed myself up against him as firmly as I could. He responded by

pulling me closer still and pressing his really hard penis against me,

rubbing it gently around. We kissed there for a long time. I finally

decided that I wanted, no needed, to have sex with Brad. I wanted him

to think only of me. All thoughts of the ramifications of this

decision left me. Besides, all my friends were either moving in with

their partners or thinking hard about doing so. They were all

certainly having sex with them. It was all just part of being a

woman. Right?I led Brad to my room and asked him to come in. He

asked if I was sure. Taking his hand I said, "Yes, I'm sure."Brad

entered my room and immediately took charge. I was a little dizzy

from my decision and the tension of the moment and I yielded totally

to him. He kissed me all over, our passion rising. I dropped to my

knees, pulled down his pants, and took him into my mouth, trying

desperately to please him. He came quickly and collapsed into a

chair. Breathing hard, he told me to go into the bedroom and get

changed, he would be there in a moment.

I changed into a favorite red nightgown. Checked my makeup, hair, and

put on a pair of red 3 inch heels. As I turned on some soft music,

Brad entered the room. He had drinks for us one of which he gave to

me. Then he took off all of his clothes. I took a deep drink, and

settled onto the bed. Brad was sweet and tender and gentle. He

brought me to the brink of ecstasy over and over. Having already

come, he was slower to peak than I was. Finally, I could stand it no

longer and came as intensely as I ever have. I was so emotionally

attached to Brad at that moment that, when he asked me to roll over, I

eagerly complied. He massaged my backside and spoke soothingly to me.

As I relaxed, Brad continued to massage me and nibble my back and

neck. Soon he spread me and entered my bottom. I was expecting the

pain but was still surprised when it came. I also found myself

pushing back toward him. Soon the pain began to subside and I felt

him going in and out of me, reaching deeply into me. The thought that

I was having sex with this man made me even more excited! Soon I had

another erection and was building toward a climax. Brad came inside

me and I thought that I was going to come as well. When I didn't, I

reached down to help myself along. I felt Brad's firm hand cover mine

and he help me masturbate until I came again.

Brad withdrew and snuggled with me. I lay there feeling so much a

part of this beautiful man. I wanted this moment to last forever. I

thought about how feminine I felt right then.

Soon Brad got up to leave. I asked if he really had to go. He said

something about it not being proper for him to stay the night under

these circumstances and left. I let him go but missed him

immediately.

The next morning I met my friends at breakfast again. They both

remarked immediately about the difference in the way I looked. I

confessed that I had given up my virginity last night and they

congratulated me. We talked during the meal about the evening's

events, including sex, and went on to the day's activities.

We were still exercising and learning makeup and hair tips. We were

also being left alone more and more. At first this was okay. But now

that everyone was getting into serious relationships, there were fewer

people to fill the free time with.

Coupling

Brad didn't meet me for lunch that day. He left me a note about some

business he had to attend to and said that he would meet me for

dinner. I sat at the restaurant alone waiting for him. Everyone else

was in a couple and I felt conspicuously alone. I was afraid that I

had been too easy with Brad last night. Did he think I was disposable

or what?Brad showed up 30 minutes late for dinner. I was furious but

afraid to show it. He apologized and said that he had been detained,

nothing more. I decided then and there that we needed to be together.

The question was how to get him to ask me.

We talked about how the program was going and the conversation turned

to how everyone had so quickly coupled. I said that everyone seemed

so happy . . . I was glad for them. Brad asked if I wasn't happy for

us and I replied that I had really missed him that afternoon. I kind

of wondered if he still wanted me. I felt on the verge of crying and

feeling so ashamed for losing control there.

Brad asked me what would make me feel better. I replied that I didn't

know. He said that the only we could spend more time together was if

we moved in together. I quickly asked if he was asking me to move in

with him. He hesitated a moment and replied that he was. Then I

really began to cry.

We left the restaurant soon after that and went to his apartment. We

had incredible sex and I stayed the night with him. The next day I

told my friends at breakfast and they agreed to help me move that

afternoon.

The next couple of weeks with Brad were heaven. He doted on me and

helped me make my transformation each morning. Soon I wasn't changing

back at all. He had favorite outfits and I wore them whenever I

could. He had favorite hairstyles and I fixed them whenever I could.

He had favorite meals and I started cooking in his apartment, trying

to have it ready when he returned in the afternoon. I began to feel

very much like a wife. I was very happy.

The Beginning Of The End

After a couple of week, though, Brad began to treat me a little

differently. He didn't say much when he was home and he was sometimes

unresponsive in bed. Sometimes he would wake up in the night, roll me

over and simply take me . . . then go back to sleep! I began to

wonder what was wrong with me! What had I done?Brad began to

criticize the way I looked. He thought that my waist wasn't small

enough. My face looked too full. My natural hair wasn't as long as

he liked it. I became very insecure and didn't know what to do to

please him. Then one day I found a phone number on his

chest-of-drawers. I called it and was answered by the "friend" who

had so distracted him early on. The SOB was having an affair on me!I

confronted Brad that evening. He dismissed me as being crazy. He

said that I was imagining things because of talking with my friends.

I was seething mad. Brad said that he didn't have to put up with this

shit and threatened to throw me out.

I immediately became afraid of what my other friends would say if they

thought that I had botched my relationship with Brad. I immediately

imagined that the "friend" he had been seeing would be there to take

my place almost before I was out the door. I became very insecure as

I tried to imagine life without Brad . . . without a man.

Brad put on his jacket and left. I asked where he was going and he

said, "OUT!" I cried for an hour after he left. Then I went to bed.

I heard him coming in late that night. I rushed to fix myself up for

him, determined to make things up to him and win him back. He came

in, having had too much to drink, and simply took me. He had me go

down on him and then roll over and spread my bottom. He took me until

he came again. There was no romance, no tenderness. I was

devastated. I felt cheapened and degraded. But I didn't know what

else to do.

The next morning I awoke to find that Brad was gone. He had cleaned

out his things and left during the night. I was even more devastated

than before! I moved back to my room and stayed there for the next 2

days. My friends came by to see me after the second day. They said

that Maria had asked about me and had asked them to convince me to

join them for breakfast at the cafe for the first time in weeks. I

was so terribly depressed and hurt and insecure. That morning we were

told that we were to assemble in the main conference room at 10:00.

Recovery

Maria came in and said that we had each experienced a microcosm of

what it was like to be a woman in today's world. If we truly wanted

to function as women occasionally or full-time, we were headed for

similar experiences. "The point," she said, "is to be able to handle

ourselves in society and form healthy relationships with others. This

is especially necessary in light of the fact that we were open to

abuse by so many others.""Now," she continued, "is the time to

understand what we might encounter and to develop defenses for dealing

with it.

Hopefully, we would learn how to avoid some of the situations we had

just encountered altogether."Someone asked if it wasn't cruel of her

to subject us to this pain. Maria replied, "How can I tell you what

it is like? The only way you can appreciate what has happened to you

is to have felt it for yourselves. You had to go through the

insecurity, the pain, and the uncertainty of competing with other

women, even your own friends, in order to know and fully understand

these feelings." She then told us that all was not as bleak as it

appeared. We would spend the next week or two in group and, if

necessary, individual sessions exploring how we felt and how we could

have dealt more effectively with our feelings and the situations.

During that time we would explore whether we should remain there at

The Farm. After that we would try again.

The next couple of weeks were tough ones. I found that I could not

easily talk about what a SOB Brad had been. I even defended him at

first, blaming the "friend." Slowly I opened up and talked out my

feelings and fears when he told me he would discard me. How I had

felt pressure to move in with him and have sex with him because I

thought all my friends were doing it, too. Ever so slowly I began to

surface my anger at the unfairness of it all. I was angry with Brad

for being able to hurt me so. I was angry with myself for having

gotten into the situation. I was angry with myself for not knowing

how to deal with it when it happened. I was angry with myself for

having done the same things to women in my life. I was angry because

I knew that there was nothing, from a societal point of view, that

could be done to Brad. That is just the way women are so often

treated.

Eventually I began to get over my anger. My friends were there for me

and I was there for them. We leaned on each other a lot and we made

it through. One decided to leave The Farm. We had a farewell lunch

for her/him. S/he told us that s/he wasn't sure if the she would

remain after all of this. But when we were through at the farm, if we

didn't mind, he would be glad to take any of us out for dinner as a

graduation present. And he left us.

Maria assured us that there was follow-on counseling and therapy

provided in case he still had trouble dealing with his emotions. She

said we shouldn't be surprised to see him at The Farm again someday.

Maria explained that, now that we understood what had happened to us,

we would be learning new ways to establish more rewarding

relationships with men AND women. Eventually, we would be given the

opportunity to try to do this again.

We spent the next week looking at the dynamics that had taken place.

We practiced meeting men, fending off their unwanted advances,

attracting the attention of those we wanted, even negotiating a

relationship based on respect and caring.

A New Beginning

Then, one day, a couple of men appeared at lunch. We were all

surprised since Maria hadn't said anything and, of course, we weren't

wearing much makeup. The next day we all showed up looking good, but

no men. Still, we started taking better care of ourselves. The

dieting and exercise had paid off and we were all looking pretty

feminine. Everyone had shaved their bodies and some wore garments to

reduce certain body parts while enhancing others. After another

couple days, a couple more men appeared at lunch. We began to

practice our new-found skills (feminine wiles, if you will) on these

"unsuspecting" men. We completely forgot that they were obviously

part of the program. Over the next several days more and more men

appeared at The Farm. Some came back regularly to visit and

relationships were formed with several of us.

I met a couple of very nice men as well as a couple of real losers. I

found out that the skills we had developed were effective, but that

they weren't as easy to use with an unwilling partner. Still, I was

learning . . . we all were.

We found out that, if we invited them, the men could come stay at The

Farm. The trick was that, in order to stay, we had to invite them to

live with us. Then they could move in.

Some of the girls made such an invitation. The men moved in. A

couple began to try and play the field. The result was that they were

tossed out on their ears. Yes, we were learning. The few men who

remained were faithful to their partners. Others continued to visit

and we continued to "date." Most of us were very careful after that,

though, to make sure before we committed even the slightest.

I got to know one very nice looking man pretty well. After several

dates he began to make sexual advances. I hadn't had sex for a number

of weeks, not since Brad, and I surprised myself by agreeing to have

sex with him. The sex was good but I found that I wasn't really all

that impressed. Certainly he was well endowed and was tender and

caring and all that. But I just wasn't that interested. Perhaps

"driven" is a better word. Then he began to take me for granted. He

had obviously had a good time with me. He began talking about how

much fun we could have if we were together all the time. Then he

called me "sweetcheeks." I got him up and dressed and out the door.

Then I shut and locked it behind him and went back to bed. He never

came back to The Farm.

I found that I was thinking about women I had known previously and I

missed them. I hadn't been gay when I arrived and I came to the

conclusion that I wasn't gay now. Still, I very much enjoyed the

feeling of feminine attire. I really enjoyed getting attention from

the men . . . and got my fair share of it. I went to talk to Maria

about this.

Maria explained that not all TV's are gay. For that matter, not all

TS's are gay or decide to seek the company of men after they change.

It would follow, based on what I had told her, that I was basically a

hetero TV. I liked girls, I just liked to be one, too.

That worked for me. The trick, then, was how to find a woman who could

enjoy being with me as a woman as well as a man. Maria explained that

that was a very difficult task. She recommended that I try to

remember how it felt being a victim as a woman and use that knowledge

to help me find someone and to establish a meaningful, fruitful

relationship.

A week or two later, several of us were asked to go to the main

conference room. There Maria told us that we had that we had each

reached what she considered to be the peak of our experiential

learning from The Farm. We were ready to return to our outside

worlds. We were also free to stay longer if we wished. All but one

of us decided that she was right and decided to leave.

Maria asked me to remain after the others had left. She asked if I

had come to any conclusions about finding a partner back in my real

world. I told her that I had some preliminary plans but nothing

concrete. I told her that I was scared.

Maria assured me that my fear was normal. She also reassured me that

I easily passed as a woman. Flattered, I thanked her and left.

The Farm had a graduation party for those of us who had opted to

leave. We were shown videos of ourselves as we came in, thinking that

we were oh-so feminine, and videos of ourselves during the past 2

days. What a difference eight weeks can make! As we loaded the limo

for the trip to the airport, Maria gave each of us an envelope

containing contacts in our area. These were part of a network of Farm

graduates who would help us and be there for us. We were also told

that we would be expected to do the same for others one day.

Attendance at The Farm is a privilege extended to very few, we were

told. We must be very careful whom we told about The farm and even

more careful about whom we refered to attend.

In my envelope was also a letter from Brad. He apologized for how he

had treated me and said that, if I could forgive him, he would love to

see me again someday. I smiled knowing that I might certainly see him

again but that the next time would be very different. But I was in no

particular hurry . . . Brad could wait . . . I didn't need him that

way anymore.

Since I left The Farm I have had several relationships with women.

They were good, better than those before. But only one has lasted.

Catherine remarked to me one day that I was especially sensitive

toward how she felt, more so than any other man she had been with. I

told her that I had had help. When she asked what kind of help, I

changed the subject. Several weeks later she asked again. When I

changed the subject she persisted and eventually told her almost

everything. Catherine was fascinated and asked to see my things.

Soon we were playing dress-up and having a ball. She said that she

saw me as her grown-up Barbie. I took exception and we had a long

talk about our relationship. Since then, we have not taken each other

for granted or trivialized each other in any way. Sometimes she buys

me clothes and sometimes we go shopping together as women. When we

are out together we often attract the attention of men. We flirt

outrageously but never let it get out of hand. We are very faithful

to each other and our relationship. The relationship is solid, the

sex is terrific, and I really do love her.

Before Catherine I had wondered if my reaction to sex with men was

because of my experiences with Brad. I had sought a couple of sex

partners and tried again. It was good, but not enough to last. I

even saw Brad one time. He was as beautiful as ever, but the

attraction was just not there. I discovered that I was, indeed, a

hetero TV. Now Catherine and I are together. We don't live together

but we frequently stay over at each other's apartment. In some ways

Catherine is a lot like a sister, but I really do love her very much.

We really are happy together. One day we may get married, but there's

plenty of time for that. We're in no hurry.