“Eighteen is when I started fully dressing up and doing make-up....

“Eighteen is when I started fully dressing up and doing make-up.  I came out to my girlfriend when I was twenty-one.  I told her ‘I think I might be trans.’  And she said: ‘I know already.  Because you’ve always looked at me the way a woman looks at another woman.’  She began to address me as my female name.  She’d come with me to the make-up counter so I wouldn’t feel awkward.  But I’d still only dress up at home.  I felt ashamed.  In public I did everything I could to suppress that side of me.  I’d wear baggy jeans and plaid shirts at work.  I grew a long beard.  I’d laugh at homophobic jokes.  But inside I felt like an absolute depressed shit.  I started keeping a private Instagram account where I followed people in the trans community, and one day I saw a post from a girl in Queens.  She was looking to make some trans friends in real life.  When I messaged her, she invited me to a party in New Jersey where a bunch of cross dressers rent out a bar.  I didn’t even consider it.  I didn’t know these people.  And I’d never even gone outside of the house before.  But she video chatted with me as her guy self, and talked me into joining.  The night of the party I was scared as fuck.  I’d laid out all my clothes: ripped skinny jeans, Johnny Cash T-shirt, red and black wig.  I had my make-up picked out.  But I didn’t think I could do it. I felt like I was going to throw up.  But I managed to walk downstairs and get into her car.  She was pumping me up the whole way there.  I smoked one last cigarette in the parking lot, and followed her into the party.  The first thing I heard someone say was: ‘Oh God.  She brought a real woman with her this time.’  I was over the moon.”