The year ended and my emergence began. By July my association with the fetish community that had so warmly accepted me and given me an outlet was becoming an involvement with me being asked to act as co-hostess of a “munch”, a perfectly respectable meeting for a chat and a drink in a public place of people who shared a common interest. We met every month in a pub with a large beer garden. In September we had come in to the main bar from the garden and something told me to go outside into the solitude and pray. I did. I was told very strongly to find a local church on Sunday. By a series of coincidences the only service I could make on that Sunday was at a local Pentecostal church and over the next four weeks any doubts I had that God was with me in my life were dispelled by a series of events that happened to me as I attended services at that Church. As I felt the certainty of my faith build so I could not help but reflect that even though at that time I was "her" for only about 20% of the time it was "her" not "him" in that bar, it was her that prayed and received confirmation her prayers had been heard, it was "her" that God had smiled upon.
A month later I decided to kick Jenni out of my life. She had become too real, I was frightened my life was being taken over and my involvement with the fetish community was reaching a point where I could be heading into a moral dilemna. I will not repeat here the horrors that are documented on my emergence page, just to say that time and time again in the next six months as I tumbled violently into one deep pit of suicidal depression after another it was my Faith and our Father who saved my life. One incident as an illustration. Stood on the platform at Hammersmith tube station I suddenly felt an enormous attraction towards the train rails, so strong my body was rocking at the platform edge. Then I felt a pull on my arm, I started to walk backwards, as I did so my eye caught an “Exit” sign. I followed it to safety and a long walk home in pouring rain. As I came in from the rain and played my favourite worship music to drown out the noise of my own cries so I had the clearest vision possible that Jenni needed to be brought out of her box again. Over the next few weeks I did so, bringing me a respite of peace and calm that allowed me to seek the professional help that ultimately led to the diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria and the medical need to transition.
Whilst faith could carry me through everything I needed something more mortal in my life. I was alone, so confused, in so much anguish, I could not relate to anyone either the nature of the internal struggle or the deep pain it was causing. One evening, just after diagnosis, I was having dinner with a friend. I returned to Jenni's flat only to find all hell had broken loose and there were 8 messages on my mobile answering service. Apparently a message had been left on my mobile that in a two minute monotone was a farewell note to all. Joan and Nan had dashed to chiswick to look for me and the police were looking for me as an "at risk" missing person. I have no recollection of leaving that message, I have no idea how it got there, neither have I heard it for when trying to play it back for myself I pressed the wrong key and deleted it. However it had the effect of bringing so much of the inner turmoil I was suffering into the open, I was being pushed towards loving arms.
I was now faced with another dilemma, how to tell Joan. Not just the difficulty of broaching the subject but also the knowledge that once I had done so there was no turning back, Jenni was for real and forever, Hard enough but for my bruised and battered mind a huge wall to climb. I got my answer. That June Joan’s Mum had visited her niece in Australia. For over 60 years a secret had been kept from her. At that most crucial moment for me my Mum in Law found out from her niece that her brother was a crossdresser. Coming back to England she sought Joan’s opinion.and hearing Joan defending her uncle was like hearing a key turn in a lock. A couple of weeks later I could tell Joan, Jenni was out, transition had started.. Was it coincidence that the day, probably even the exact time, that I told Joan was the anniversary of that time two years ago that I opened my heart to Gods love and became a Christian?
Now we go back to where the story started. In that year Joan and I tried to sell our house,. By a bizarre sequence of events, what could only be described as Gods hand by those that believe, it didn't happen. Now, faced with the problem of my transition in a small rural village we worried over the reaction as we came out to people. The first to know locally were our church family. We were to find a total, unconditional, loving God-inspired response. God of course had got it right and had corrected what would of been our mistake. . Knowing what we were to face he kept us where we were, with his Christian family that could support so much.
This is just a tiny synopsis as I have felt our Fathers love and guidance. I do not consider myself an affront to God, rather I see myself as someone who with his love and guidance is living their life as they were made.
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