Tag Archives: hate

Dear Gabi, How Do You Handle the Pressure?

Dear Gabi,

I have been under great stress at work. I still have a job but I feel trapped I can’t be me. You are free and have the support of your wife. I don’t know what to do any more, I can’t come out at work or I’ll be fired for being TG, I’m thinking of seeing a therapist but have a strong fear that if I use company med. insurance it may get back to the new owners of the company and I’ll be fired.

I have been hoping to find support in online TG communities. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m also 55 years of age and I’m not pretty like you and many other t-girls I’ve seen. I love your goth picture.

God if only I had the money to free me from working and the money to transition and live my true self as Margueritte full time, may I ask you how you can live and be both male and female with out the homophobic BS from people around you? Sometimes I think of taking a bottle of sleeping tablets and just ending it all. How do you handle the pressure and depression?

Margueritte Continue reading Dear Gabi, How Do You Handle the Pressure?

T-Mobile Employees Call T-Girl “F*ggot”

T-Mobile kiosk in mall

While browsing a local mall (en femme) and minding my own business, I noticed male employees of a T-Mobile kiosk up ahead staring me down with a rather unpleasant look on their faces. There was what appeared to be a customer being assisted at the time, but their focus was on me. From several meters away, I very clearly heard one of them say “There goes a faggot.” It was spoken louder than the rest of the conversation, indicative of his intent for me to hear it.

I would expect this kind of lowbrow behavior from immature kids and street thugs, but not from on-duty employees and representatives of any business, regardless if their own misguided personal views.

As mentioned in my previous account of browsing the mall en femme, I did not allow their bully tactics to ruin my day. They rattled me and gave me a good scare – good for them. I’m sure they’re very proud of themselves for their juvenile display of aggressive behavior toward a completely harmless person. Nothing has changed though. I’m still me, very happy to be who I am, and a little wiser for the experience.

Continue reading T-Mobile Employees Call T-Girl “F*ggot”

En Femme at the Mall, Turbulence & Triumph

Gabrielle in mall

After a productive outing to see my therapist as Gabrielle, I wasn’t quite ready to call it a day. I decided to take a stroll through a local mall. I’d driven to this mall a few times en femme, only to remain in the car out of fear of being harmed.

This is part of my personal growth process. I need to become more comfortable being Gabrielle in public and interacting with others as such. My primary objective for this mission (it’s more fun to think of it as a mission *grin*) was to make at least one purchase before leaving the mall. My secondary objective was to walk the entire mall before leaving, but it’s a rather large mall and I wasn’t sure about the feasibility of that in my high-heel boots.

Before my mall-trek was over, I received a rather unsettling reminder of the very real potential for danger in public crossdressing.
Continue reading En Femme at the Mall, Turbulence & Triumph

Getting Busted and Learning to Hate Myself

crying on bed

It seems like a million years ago and just yesterday at the same time. I was 12 years old and it was undoubtedly the single most traumatic event of my youth. The devastating emotional impact lasted for many years after.

I first realized my desire to dress in women’s clothes at about the age of 3 or 4. I didn’t know what it all meant, but I knew enough to keep it a secret. It’s interesting that even at such a young age, the social taboo of crossdressing was already heavily cemented in my mind. It seems like from the time I was born, I was taught of the need to fit in to the socially accepted norm of the “male gender role” because of my genitals. How else would a 4 year old know to guard this little secret as if his life depended on it?
Continue reading Getting Busted and Learning to Hate Myself