I tied my shoes and hid the secret cargo in my backpack then
locked the door behind me. I could see the entrance to the park in the
distance as I started my hike. Memories of a lifetime filled my thoughts.
****
I remembered many of the adults in my extended family commenting in my youth that I was '14 years old going on 40'. I had thought as a compliment at the time because I was an overachiever but looking back it was probably due to my anxious nature that I thought I hid from the world.
I suppose most kids feel they are different from everyone around them and they learn over time to hide themselves by conforming to the social norms. I worked hard to fit in despite the overwhelming feeling I was different. I think I succeeded for the most part.
I wasn't ever one of the popular kids but I know I wasn’t unpopular either. I was in that second group of kids that most people ignore. My grades were good. I did well in sports. I had good group of similar minded friends. I was too shy to ask out a girl.
Reviewing my yearbooks, I saw a good-looking kid but knew that didn't matter, as my confidence could not have been lower. I didn't feel comfortable in my skin. Most girls saw me as an odd, stuck up kid that did well in sports. I thought hard work would improve things but the harder I worked the worse I felt.
My first cross dressing experience happened when I was 10 years old. I felt an urge I didn't understand. I lied to Mom that I wasn't feeling well and she let me stay home. After waiting a few hours to make sure I was alone I snuck into her room and spent the morning wearing one of her wigs, a bra, and high heels. It felt like a farce but over the next few years, it grew to include my first attempts at makeup and smoking her cigarettes.
I knew something was wrong with me but I couldn't explain it and I know I couldn't tell a soul. I thought I might be gay but I also knew I wasn't attracted to people. It didn't make any sense. The difference between gender ID and sexual attraction were foreign concepts. I had no idea what a transsexual was though I'm sure I would have laughed at the idea if someone explained it to me.
I relived those teenaged years a lot in my mind. I wished there was a way to go back.
I'm sure most people relive the confusion of their teenaged years as that time in a large part forms the adults we become. The hardworking, reclusive teenager I was became a hardworking, reclusive adult. Make that an increasingly unhappy adult.
I started writing to sort out my feelings. Fast forward a few more years and I have a closet filled with women's outfits and a suitcase full of makeup and assorted appliances. I spent entire weeks living alone completely en femme. I was happy but I felt trapped. Everything felt superficial but I knew I couldn't take my obsession further. I couldn't transition. The insecure child inside wouldn't allow it.
TG stories helped me cope but like a sort of drug, it didn't take long until needed something stronger. I moved on to YouTube videos of MtF transitions. My tears fell as I watched men transform themselves into women. Could I do that? Would I be able to pass? I studied medical literature. I read firsthand accounts.
I knew I was transgender. That was true the first time I put on my mom's high heels. It took well over a decade for me to accept that fact but that didn't make acceptance any less of a hurdle. I had a gender identity problem. Was my GID a big enough issue to outweigh the negatives?
****
I made good time as I crossed into the park, my legs felt strong. This would be a long hike. Hiking alone through the wilderness would allow me the freedom to do something I needed to do but only could recently understand.
****
One thing I've always hated is people that say stupid things like 'gays just need to find the right person' or that 'they can change with the right therapy'. A gay friend in college reinforced this belief when he explained through tear-filled eyes that he'd give anything to change his sexual orientation. Would anyone voluntarily choose that lifestyle? Would anyone really want that kind of grief?
I was so far into the closet at the time that I felt joy knowing it was his problem and not mine. If only that statement were true. At least gays feel comfortable in their own skin. At least gays didn’t have to change their appearance. They could blend into society with no one the wiser if they wanted.
The more I studied GID the more I knew the idea fit like a glove. I could hide it from the world but I couldn't hide it from myself. None of the literature can explain exactly why it happens - genetics?, hormones during pregnancy?, upbringing?, a combination of all three? No one knew. I just knew that parts of my brain were more comfortable being female than male and there was nothing I could do to change it.
Could I live with the consequences? Could I transition? My desire depended on the day.
There are many obstacles to transitioning. The older you get the less effective the drugs and I wasn't a teenager any more. My hairline had already moved a little which would only get worse with time. My face wasn't overly masculine with a male nose and a head much larger than you'd find on a female. I had short legs with a long torso which is exactly opposite as you'd find on a girl. I had broad shoulders and muscular legs.
Was I trying to talk myself out of transitioning? Plastic surgery could fix most of those issues. The biggest hurdle was the weight I’d gained while I hid from the world.
For most of my youth, I was skinny. As a 3-season athlete, I kept the pounds off. I remembered weighing about 150 lbs by the time I graduated high school. Transitioning then would have been easy but after college, my depression deepened and I spent night after night at home. Poor eating habits and an agoraphobic-like fear of being outside piled on the weight. I weighed over 300 lbs. when I put real plans together for a suicide attempt. As a last ditch effort I called a therapist who saved my life. We put together a life plan and the first step was to get my weight under control.
I changed my diet and I started working out. My mood swings made progress slow but after two years, the 200 lbs barrier was in sight. I had a long way to go but my progress gave me confidence to try some things I never could have considered as a kid.
****
My plan for the hike was bolder than usual. It had gotten a lot colder so I wore my favorite sports bra under a t-shirt and a sweatshirt. My breast forms lay hidden in my backpack.
I didn't see a soul the first hour of the hike, which gave my plan confidence. The trails wove through hilly terrain growing ever more secluded until you reached to the other side of the park. Many people hiked around the edges but few hiked the interior. I wanted to hike in girl mode and after not seeing anyone for so long I popped my breast forms in much earlier than I planned. Feeling the weight on my chest felt great and I smiled at my own genius.
My legs felt great and I kept a fast pace which meant I the further I went, the hotter I got. My sweatshirt went into my backpack leaving only a thin t-shirt which bulged outward from the the B cup breast forms hiding inside the sports bra. I loved every minute of it.
Was I secretly hoping someone would see me? I was pushing the boundaries of safety and I think a small part of me enjoyed the fear. That didn't stop me from breathing a sigh of relief as I turned towards a long secluded trail that few people traversed. I looked forward to the solitude even though I knew every step took me closer to a turnabout where many people hiking from a local hotel used as a turnabout for an easy 2-mile hike.
****
"Can you help me?"
The man's words brought me out of the dream state where minds go when they aren't paying attention to the task. I'd gone less than a 1/10 mile into the 'secluded area'. Thoughts raced through my head as my mind raced.
I half-ignored the man as I walked past as I considered how to answer when I saw a woman 50 yards up the trail. Having no choice I continued to walk towards the woman while addressing the man over my shoulder. Two days of beard growth betrayed me as male despite the large bulges on my chest.
The man asked in an almost pleading voice, "Do you know the way back to the hotel? Can I get there from the direction you came?"
As I'd travelled every part of the park during my hikes, I knew the answer. I had to help.
"You are good. Just go straight when you get to the next crossroad. It will wind around but eventually will take you back to the hotel."
The man had stopped walking as I responded and a passed the woman as quick as I could, trying to hide my chest while trying to hide side boob profile from either of them. The woman didn't seem satisfied by my quick response and she followed me the way she had come forcing me to stop for fear of 'outing' myself by continuing to act so odd. I hadn't noticed either of them looking at my chest but frankly, they didn't have to. My chest stuck out so prominently it made the name of the sports team on my t-shirt easy to read. The woman stopped a few feet behind me and I pointed to a far away trail.
"See that trail that runs along the hill over there?"
I was thankful when they did as I asked. At least they weren't looking at me.
"That's your destination. It will go around to the other side of that hill then head north to the hotel. I will be coming around from the other direction on my own hike and will make sure to look for you."
My answer seemed to satisfy the woman who stood two feet in front of me. All it would take is a look down but her gaze never left my eyes.
"Thanks for your help." I watched the two turn and head into the distance.
****
I race walked for a bit gain some distance in case they doubled back then doubled over in laughter at thought of what had just happened. I had no doubt I'd been 'clocked'. Five years before I would have been mortified at something like this but for some reason it didn't bother me. I consoled myself with the thought I'd never see them again after this day.
I did worry that in my haste that I might have given bad directions. Did I tell them to go straight at the crossroad? Panic set in that I might have put them in danger. Deep down I knew I should have told them to turn around, as it was easy to get lost in the park. There were many crossroads and none of them had maps.
Guilt made me quicken my pace. Was it so wrong that I wanted to spend the afternoon wearing my breast forms while I hiked? I had to get to the hotel. The sooner I got there the sooner I could meet them coming up the trail to the south but the thought of the hotel created another issue.
The hotel had a popular 2-mile turnabout, which is where the two people I'd already met came from. Few were adventurous enough as them to do a 6-mile hike into the wilderness without a map but I knew the turnabout was sure to have people in it. I pushed the thought from my mind for the moment as I enjoyed the wilderness surrounding me. For the next mile, it was just me, the bounce on my chest, and a smile that wouldn't stop.
I wished it could have lasted forever but I saw the building that marked the turnabout far sooner than I wanted. I thought about taking off the breast forms but wanted to savor every moment and since it appeared no one was in the building, I decided to enter to change inside.
I didn't see the man until I was two steps from the door. He sat nonchalant in the window ledge, taking in the sights and I'm sure he saw me. I tried to play it off by walking around the outside of the building to make him assume that I had meant to stay on trail. He remembered a spot nearby where he could change without anyone seeing. Every step took me closer to another group walking up the trail.
What I hadn't counted on was the man inside the shelter exiting to follow me 10 seconds after I passed. Had he seen me? Did he want to walk with me? Had he exited because he saw my 'breasts' and assumed I was a girl?
Panic set in but not in the way I expected. Everything felt surreal. I felt like a girl. The guy following me was about 6'2" tall, looked to be about 22 years old, well tanned, and since he wasn't wearing a shirt I could see a muscled body that showed he worked with free weights about every day.
If you looked up the stereotypical picture of assholes that beat up gays or transsexuals, you'd see a picture of this guy. I knew the characterization probably wasn't fair but I also knew I didn't want to take a chance. My hand felt in my pocket for the knife I always carry whenever I hike. I had to figure a way out of this mess of my own making. I increased my speed in hopes of putting some distance between us but I'd already put in well over five miles of hilly terrain at a fast clip and this guy had only done a mile and had a nice rest.
Somehow, I slowly pulled away. I'd always heard the term 'fight or flight' and it wasn't until that moment I understood how amazing the rush of adrenaline can help a person do things they could never do otherwise. I surged ahead to a good lead but when I saw the hairpin turn a quarter mile ahead I knew I had no choice but to make eye contact. We'd have to acknowledge one another. My mind imagined the conversation going something like:
"Do you mind if I walk with you?"
"Ummm... sure."
"Nice tits."
"Thanks."
That was the most positive outcome of the dozens of alternative spinning in my head.
Desperation set in as the turn got closer. I shoved one hand down my bra and pulled out a breast form. It's only a B cup and not that big so I could easily hold it with one hand despite the slight coating of sweat that covered it. I prayed it wouldn't slip as I shoved my other hand in my bra to grab the other one.
Now I was walking down the trail with a breast form in each hand walking in such a way so the guy behind couldn't see my hands as I realized I had no place to put them. I thought for a second about putting them down my pants but I knew they'd only stay there for a short while before falling to the ground. This would have been mortifying but also might have damaged the forms. I knew my pants pockets were too small, which left one option - my backpack.
Putting both slippery breast forms in one hand, I loosened the backpack and pulled it around my body to access the inner compartments. I stuffed the forms inside then pulled out my package of sunflower seeds to show I opened my backpack for a reason.
The whole process lasted thirty seconds but it felt like thirty minutes. As I replayed the events in my head, I couldn't believe what I'd done. Somehow, I'd shielded a guy twenty yards behind from seeing me take off a pair of breast forms with one hand and put them into a pack with the other while my backpack was still attached and did it without breaking my stride.
At least that's what I told myself. For all I knew, the reason he'd lost ground was that he was trying too hard not to laugh.
For the next two miles, I walked as fast as I could to increase my lead as I really didn't want to talk to the guy but adrenaline only lasts so long. He was no more than 15 yards behind the entire way until we got to a large hill that led to the hotel. By the time I got to the top, I couldn't see him.
****
I met the man and the woman just as they were leaving the trail and headed for the hotel. I waved and the woman ran over seeming happy to see me.
I said, "I see you guys made it. I was worried my directions would get you lost."
"Nope. Thanks for the help."
"No problem."
"See Bob! I told you he had a State shirt. Did you go there?"
"Nah. I just like the shirt."
"I see. Well thanks for the directions."
All I that short conversation proved was I'd been 'clocked' as a cross dresser. The fact my boobs disappeared in between our two conversations had no other explanation. The woman had certainly noticed the name of the college the first time we met which meant she noticed the breast forms. Bob had probably only seen my breasts without reading the shirt. That would be just like a man.
The whole situation made me laugh and I couldn't shake my happiness that grew with every step. As I headed back into the park I smiled as I’d already been caught cross-dressing in public at least once and everything turned out ok. This time of day, it would be unlikely to see anyone on the trail. By the look of the sun, I knew I might not make it home before dark but I was having so much fun I decided to take the long trail that none but the foolhardy would take at this hour.
Feeling as if I'd left civilization behind, I took off my shirt leaving only the bra exposed to the wind.
At this point, my legs felt wiped but I didn't care, as mountains were no match for me on this day. The sun fell further in the sky but I knew if I didn't make it in time, my headlamp would show me the way. I had to savor this. It felt so good. It felt right.
The night air felt cold on my skin as I made my way through the park. I barely noticed it. The stars shone down as I hit the final stretch of trail. I didn't want to cover up but I could saw the housing development ahead. The last thing I needed was my neighbors seeing me hiking in only a bra. I pulled on the sweatshirt. I'd taken enough chances on this day.
****
As I walked the final stretch to my house, Dad called on the cell phone.
"What's up?"
"You busy for dinner?"
"Nope but can you give me time for a shower? I just got back from a long hike."
"Can you meet me at CJs in an hour?"
"Sounds good."
The crowd looked sparse as I entered. I saw Dad seated in his favorite booth in the corner. Most of the rest of the crowd had disappeared as its clientele preferred to eat early.
As we waited for our orders dad asked, "Anything exciting happen today?"
"I helped a couple that got lost in the park."
"Hikers from the hotel?"
"Yep."
"One of those days someone is going to get hurt out there."
I nodded at Dad. We'd never been close but as I considered my future, I'd reached out to him knowing that perhaps soon our relationship would be lost forever. Our small talk meandered about meaningless things but I was glad for the company.
What he'd think if he'd seen me in the sports bra? His stance on gay marriage made me think his reaction probably wouldn't be good, that much was certain.
I smiled politely as he gave me a shot for shot recap of his golf match he'd played earlier in the day.
I thought back on my own day and recapped it in my head.
Meeting the woman and man wasn't nearly as bad as I feared even though the woman certainly had pegged me as a cross dresser. Would everyone be that nice? Was it actual relief I felt when I realized she knew and it didn't matter? Was it possible my Dad might feel the same if I told him?
The well-built man who'd given me a scare gave me a taste of something else altogether. Was it fear? Probably. I'd lived my life in a man's skin with all the privilege that came to those of that gender. Women had to be careful and trans-women doubly so. Testosterone blockers and estrogen would sap my strength making me an easy target. Could I live with that? How would I feel living in fear? Attempting to hike alone in the park would be stupid as a trans-woman. Once I started hormone replacement, I would never be able to hide the truth as I'd done that day with the breast forms. There'd be no turning back once the changes took hold. Could I live with that?
Someone approached dad's table and began to speak but I ignored them until I noticed him pointing at me.
"Who's this?"
"My son."
I shook the man's hand.
"I'm Larry. I golf with your dad every Tuesday."
"Nice to meet you Larry."
I didn't want to engage in small talk. My head was still swimming from the events earlier in the day. What did it all mean? How did I feel?
Larry said, "He's a big one."
Dad beamed as he responded, "My son played three years on the high school football team as varsity cornerback and made all distract on the track team."
Is that how dad saw me? Could he live with something else?
"Are you sure he's your son?"
I didn't respond as the two men entered into series of good-natured jabs you find between guys at any sporting event. Would hormones be able to change me enough? I'd always been big. I knew I loved the feeling as I walked alone through the park wearing only a bra. I knew I was a lucky that no one saw me but every fiber of my being knew that my genetics didn't match my gender. Why did I have to be so different? It wasn't fair.
Larry's comment hit home as it held my biggest worry.
'My he's a big one.'
Hormones could only do so much. If I did transition, could I live with the ramifications? What would I do if everyone around knew I was transsexual at a glance. Could I live with it? It felt good hearing dad's pride as he relived my glory days. Would dad be comfortable introducing me as his daughter? Would we even have a relationship?
The server started to place the bill on the table but dad passed a twenty and told her to keep the change. He always insisted he pay. Was there guilt for his lack of attention when I was a child? Perhaps. We walked out the door together.
"Thanks for dinner dad."
"It was good seeing you son."
I watched dad's taillights disappear into the distance before pulling out of the parking lot. Was I ready to make a decision about hormones? I'd already found a TG friendly therapist who'd already approved them. Was I ready? Perhaps tomorrow I'd take another walk in the park to clear my mind.
****
I remembered many of the adults in my extended family commenting in my youth that I was '14 years old going on 40'. I had thought as a compliment at the time because I was an overachiever but looking back it was probably due to my anxious nature that I thought I hid from the world.
I suppose most kids feel they are different from everyone around them and they learn over time to hide themselves by conforming to the social norms. I worked hard to fit in despite the overwhelming feeling I was different. I think I succeeded for the most part.
I wasn't ever one of the popular kids but I know I wasn’t unpopular either. I was in that second group of kids that most people ignore. My grades were good. I did well in sports. I had good group of similar minded friends. I was too shy to ask out a girl.
Reviewing my yearbooks, I saw a good-looking kid but knew that didn't matter, as my confidence could not have been lower. I didn't feel comfortable in my skin. Most girls saw me as an odd, stuck up kid that did well in sports. I thought hard work would improve things but the harder I worked the worse I felt.
My first cross dressing experience happened when I was 10 years old. I felt an urge I didn't understand. I lied to Mom that I wasn't feeling well and she let me stay home. After waiting a few hours to make sure I was alone I snuck into her room and spent the morning wearing one of her wigs, a bra, and high heels. It felt like a farce but over the next few years, it grew to include my first attempts at makeup and smoking her cigarettes.
I knew something was wrong with me but I couldn't explain it and I know I couldn't tell a soul. I thought I might be gay but I also knew I wasn't attracted to people. It didn't make any sense. The difference between gender ID and sexual attraction were foreign concepts. I had no idea what a transsexual was though I'm sure I would have laughed at the idea if someone explained it to me.
I relived those teenaged years a lot in my mind. I wished there was a way to go back.
I'm sure most people relive the confusion of their teenaged years as that time in a large part forms the adults we become. The hardworking, reclusive teenager I was became a hardworking, reclusive adult. Make that an increasingly unhappy adult.
I started writing to sort out my feelings. Fast forward a few more years and I have a closet filled with women's outfits and a suitcase full of makeup and assorted appliances. I spent entire weeks living alone completely en femme. I was happy but I felt trapped. Everything felt superficial but I knew I couldn't take my obsession further. I couldn't transition. The insecure child inside wouldn't allow it.
TG stories helped me cope but like a sort of drug, it didn't take long until needed something stronger. I moved on to YouTube videos of MtF transitions. My tears fell as I watched men transform themselves into women. Could I do that? Would I be able to pass? I studied medical literature. I read firsthand accounts.
I knew I was transgender. That was true the first time I put on my mom's high heels. It took well over a decade for me to accept that fact but that didn't make acceptance any less of a hurdle. I had a gender identity problem. Was my GID a big enough issue to outweigh the negatives?
****
I made good time as I crossed into the park, my legs felt strong. This would be a long hike. Hiking alone through the wilderness would allow me the freedom to do something I needed to do but only could recently understand.
****
One thing I've always hated is people that say stupid things like 'gays just need to find the right person' or that 'they can change with the right therapy'. A gay friend in college reinforced this belief when he explained through tear-filled eyes that he'd give anything to change his sexual orientation. Would anyone voluntarily choose that lifestyle? Would anyone really want that kind of grief?
I was so far into the closet at the time that I felt joy knowing it was his problem and not mine. If only that statement were true. At least gays feel comfortable in their own skin. At least gays didn’t have to change their appearance. They could blend into society with no one the wiser if they wanted.
The more I studied GID the more I knew the idea fit like a glove. I could hide it from the world but I couldn't hide it from myself. None of the literature can explain exactly why it happens - genetics?, hormones during pregnancy?, upbringing?, a combination of all three? No one knew. I just knew that parts of my brain were more comfortable being female than male and there was nothing I could do to change it.
Could I live with the consequences? Could I transition? My desire depended on the day.
There are many obstacles to transitioning. The older you get the less effective the drugs and I wasn't a teenager any more. My hairline had already moved a little which would only get worse with time. My face wasn't overly masculine with a male nose and a head much larger than you'd find on a female. I had short legs with a long torso which is exactly opposite as you'd find on a girl. I had broad shoulders and muscular legs.
Was I trying to talk myself out of transitioning? Plastic surgery could fix most of those issues. The biggest hurdle was the weight I’d gained while I hid from the world.
For most of my youth, I was skinny. As a 3-season athlete, I kept the pounds off. I remembered weighing about 150 lbs by the time I graduated high school. Transitioning then would have been easy but after college, my depression deepened and I spent night after night at home. Poor eating habits and an agoraphobic-like fear of being outside piled on the weight. I weighed over 300 lbs. when I put real plans together for a suicide attempt. As a last ditch effort I called a therapist who saved my life. We put together a life plan and the first step was to get my weight under control.
I changed my diet and I started working out. My mood swings made progress slow but after two years, the 200 lbs barrier was in sight. I had a long way to go but my progress gave me confidence to try some things I never could have considered as a kid.
****
My plan for the hike was bolder than usual. It had gotten a lot colder so I wore my favorite sports bra under a t-shirt and a sweatshirt. My breast forms lay hidden in my backpack.
I didn't see a soul the first hour of the hike, which gave my plan confidence. The trails wove through hilly terrain growing ever more secluded until you reached to the other side of the park. Many people hiked around the edges but few hiked the interior. I wanted to hike in girl mode and after not seeing anyone for so long I popped my breast forms in much earlier than I planned. Feeling the weight on my chest felt great and I smiled at my own genius.
My legs felt great and I kept a fast pace which meant I the further I went, the hotter I got. My sweatshirt went into my backpack leaving only a thin t-shirt which bulged outward from the the B cup breast forms hiding inside the sports bra. I loved every minute of it.
Was I secretly hoping someone would see me? I was pushing the boundaries of safety and I think a small part of me enjoyed the fear. That didn't stop me from breathing a sigh of relief as I turned towards a long secluded trail that few people traversed. I looked forward to the solitude even though I knew every step took me closer to a turnabout where many people hiking from a local hotel used as a turnabout for an easy 2-mile hike.
****
"Can you help me?"
The man's words brought me out of the dream state where minds go when they aren't paying attention to the task. I'd gone less than a 1/10 mile into the 'secluded area'. Thoughts raced through my head as my mind raced.
I half-ignored the man as I walked past as I considered how to answer when I saw a woman 50 yards up the trail. Having no choice I continued to walk towards the woman while addressing the man over my shoulder. Two days of beard growth betrayed me as male despite the large bulges on my chest.
The man asked in an almost pleading voice, "Do you know the way back to the hotel? Can I get there from the direction you came?"
As I'd travelled every part of the park during my hikes, I knew the answer. I had to help.
"You are good. Just go straight when you get to the next crossroad. It will wind around but eventually will take you back to the hotel."
The man had stopped walking as I responded and a passed the woman as quick as I could, trying to hide my chest while trying to hide side boob profile from either of them. The woman didn't seem satisfied by my quick response and she followed me the way she had come forcing me to stop for fear of 'outing' myself by continuing to act so odd. I hadn't noticed either of them looking at my chest but frankly, they didn't have to. My chest stuck out so prominently it made the name of the sports team on my t-shirt easy to read. The woman stopped a few feet behind me and I pointed to a far away trail.
"See that trail that runs along the hill over there?"
I was thankful when they did as I asked. At least they weren't looking at me.
"That's your destination. It will go around to the other side of that hill then head north to the hotel. I will be coming around from the other direction on my own hike and will make sure to look for you."
My answer seemed to satisfy the woman who stood two feet in front of me. All it would take is a look down but her gaze never left my eyes.
"Thanks for your help." I watched the two turn and head into the distance.
****
I race walked for a bit gain some distance in case they doubled back then doubled over in laughter at thought of what had just happened. I had no doubt I'd been 'clocked'. Five years before I would have been mortified at something like this but for some reason it didn't bother me. I consoled myself with the thought I'd never see them again after this day.
I did worry that in my haste that I might have given bad directions. Did I tell them to go straight at the crossroad? Panic set in that I might have put them in danger. Deep down I knew I should have told them to turn around, as it was easy to get lost in the park. There were many crossroads and none of them had maps.
Guilt made me quicken my pace. Was it so wrong that I wanted to spend the afternoon wearing my breast forms while I hiked? I had to get to the hotel. The sooner I got there the sooner I could meet them coming up the trail to the south but the thought of the hotel created another issue.
The hotel had a popular 2-mile turnabout, which is where the two people I'd already met came from. Few were adventurous enough as them to do a 6-mile hike into the wilderness without a map but I knew the turnabout was sure to have people in it. I pushed the thought from my mind for the moment as I enjoyed the wilderness surrounding me. For the next mile, it was just me, the bounce on my chest, and a smile that wouldn't stop.
I wished it could have lasted forever but I saw the building that marked the turnabout far sooner than I wanted. I thought about taking off the breast forms but wanted to savor every moment and since it appeared no one was in the building, I decided to enter to change inside.
I didn't see the man until I was two steps from the door. He sat nonchalant in the window ledge, taking in the sights and I'm sure he saw me. I tried to play it off by walking around the outside of the building to make him assume that I had meant to stay on trail. He remembered a spot nearby where he could change without anyone seeing. Every step took me closer to another group walking up the trail.
What I hadn't counted on was the man inside the shelter exiting to follow me 10 seconds after I passed. Had he seen me? Did he want to walk with me? Had he exited because he saw my 'breasts' and assumed I was a girl?
Panic set in but not in the way I expected. Everything felt surreal. I felt like a girl. The guy following me was about 6'2" tall, looked to be about 22 years old, well tanned, and since he wasn't wearing a shirt I could see a muscled body that showed he worked with free weights about every day.
If you looked up the stereotypical picture of assholes that beat up gays or transsexuals, you'd see a picture of this guy. I knew the characterization probably wasn't fair but I also knew I didn't want to take a chance. My hand felt in my pocket for the knife I always carry whenever I hike. I had to figure a way out of this mess of my own making. I increased my speed in hopes of putting some distance between us but I'd already put in well over five miles of hilly terrain at a fast clip and this guy had only done a mile and had a nice rest.
Somehow, I slowly pulled away. I'd always heard the term 'fight or flight' and it wasn't until that moment I understood how amazing the rush of adrenaline can help a person do things they could never do otherwise. I surged ahead to a good lead but when I saw the hairpin turn a quarter mile ahead I knew I had no choice but to make eye contact. We'd have to acknowledge one another. My mind imagined the conversation going something like:
"Do you mind if I walk with you?"
"Ummm... sure."
"Nice tits."
"Thanks."
That was the most positive outcome of the dozens of alternative spinning in my head.
Desperation set in as the turn got closer. I shoved one hand down my bra and pulled out a breast form. It's only a B cup and not that big so I could easily hold it with one hand despite the slight coating of sweat that covered it. I prayed it wouldn't slip as I shoved my other hand in my bra to grab the other one.
Now I was walking down the trail with a breast form in each hand walking in such a way so the guy behind couldn't see my hands as I realized I had no place to put them. I thought for a second about putting them down my pants but I knew they'd only stay there for a short while before falling to the ground. This would have been mortifying but also might have damaged the forms. I knew my pants pockets were too small, which left one option - my backpack.
Putting both slippery breast forms in one hand, I loosened the backpack and pulled it around my body to access the inner compartments. I stuffed the forms inside then pulled out my package of sunflower seeds to show I opened my backpack for a reason.
The whole process lasted thirty seconds but it felt like thirty minutes. As I replayed the events in my head, I couldn't believe what I'd done. Somehow, I'd shielded a guy twenty yards behind from seeing me take off a pair of breast forms with one hand and put them into a pack with the other while my backpack was still attached and did it without breaking my stride.
At least that's what I told myself. For all I knew, the reason he'd lost ground was that he was trying too hard not to laugh.
For the next two miles, I walked as fast as I could to increase my lead as I really didn't want to talk to the guy but adrenaline only lasts so long. He was no more than 15 yards behind the entire way until we got to a large hill that led to the hotel. By the time I got to the top, I couldn't see him.
****
I met the man and the woman just as they were leaving the trail and headed for the hotel. I waved and the woman ran over seeming happy to see me.
I said, "I see you guys made it. I was worried my directions would get you lost."
"Nope. Thanks for the help."
"No problem."
"See Bob! I told you he had a State shirt. Did you go there?"
"Nah. I just like the shirt."
"I see. Well thanks for the directions."
All I that short conversation proved was I'd been 'clocked' as a cross dresser. The fact my boobs disappeared in between our two conversations had no other explanation. The woman had certainly noticed the name of the college the first time we met which meant she noticed the breast forms. Bob had probably only seen my breasts without reading the shirt. That would be just like a man.
The whole situation made me laugh and I couldn't shake my happiness that grew with every step. As I headed back into the park I smiled as I’d already been caught cross-dressing in public at least once and everything turned out ok. This time of day, it would be unlikely to see anyone on the trail. By the look of the sun, I knew I might not make it home before dark but I was having so much fun I decided to take the long trail that none but the foolhardy would take at this hour.
Feeling as if I'd left civilization behind, I took off my shirt leaving only the bra exposed to the wind.
At this point, my legs felt wiped but I didn't care, as mountains were no match for me on this day. The sun fell further in the sky but I knew if I didn't make it in time, my headlamp would show me the way. I had to savor this. It felt so good. It felt right.
The night air felt cold on my skin as I made my way through the park. I barely noticed it. The stars shone down as I hit the final stretch of trail. I didn't want to cover up but I could saw the housing development ahead. The last thing I needed was my neighbors seeing me hiking in only a bra. I pulled on the sweatshirt. I'd taken enough chances on this day.
****
As I walked the final stretch to my house, Dad called on the cell phone.
"What's up?"
"You busy for dinner?"
"Nope but can you give me time for a shower? I just got back from a long hike."
"Can you meet me at CJs in an hour?"
"Sounds good."
The crowd looked sparse as I entered. I saw Dad seated in his favorite booth in the corner. Most of the rest of the crowd had disappeared as its clientele preferred to eat early.
As we waited for our orders dad asked, "Anything exciting happen today?"
"I helped a couple that got lost in the park."
"Hikers from the hotel?"
"Yep."
"One of those days someone is going to get hurt out there."
I nodded at Dad. We'd never been close but as I considered my future, I'd reached out to him knowing that perhaps soon our relationship would be lost forever. Our small talk meandered about meaningless things but I was glad for the company.
What he'd think if he'd seen me in the sports bra? His stance on gay marriage made me think his reaction probably wouldn't be good, that much was certain.
I smiled politely as he gave me a shot for shot recap of his golf match he'd played earlier in the day.
I thought back on my own day and recapped it in my head.
Meeting the woman and man wasn't nearly as bad as I feared even though the woman certainly had pegged me as a cross dresser. Would everyone be that nice? Was it actual relief I felt when I realized she knew and it didn't matter? Was it possible my Dad might feel the same if I told him?
The well-built man who'd given me a scare gave me a taste of something else altogether. Was it fear? Probably. I'd lived my life in a man's skin with all the privilege that came to those of that gender. Women had to be careful and trans-women doubly so. Testosterone blockers and estrogen would sap my strength making me an easy target. Could I live with that? How would I feel living in fear? Attempting to hike alone in the park would be stupid as a trans-woman. Once I started hormone replacement, I would never be able to hide the truth as I'd done that day with the breast forms. There'd be no turning back once the changes took hold. Could I live with that?
Someone approached dad's table and began to speak but I ignored them until I noticed him pointing at me.
"Who's this?"
"My son."
I shook the man's hand.
"I'm Larry. I golf with your dad every Tuesday."
"Nice to meet you Larry."
I didn't want to engage in small talk. My head was still swimming from the events earlier in the day. What did it all mean? How did I feel?
Larry said, "He's a big one."
Dad beamed as he responded, "My son played three years on the high school football team as varsity cornerback and made all distract on the track team."
Is that how dad saw me? Could he live with something else?
"Are you sure he's your son?"
I didn't respond as the two men entered into series of good-natured jabs you find between guys at any sporting event. Would hormones be able to change me enough? I'd always been big. I knew I loved the feeling as I walked alone through the park wearing only a bra. I knew I was a lucky that no one saw me but every fiber of my being knew that my genetics didn't match my gender. Why did I have to be so different? It wasn't fair.
Larry's comment hit home as it held my biggest worry.
'My he's a big one.'
Hormones could only do so much. If I did transition, could I live with the ramifications? What would I do if everyone around knew I was transsexual at a glance. Could I live with it? It felt good hearing dad's pride as he relived my glory days. Would dad be comfortable introducing me as his daughter? Would we even have a relationship?
The server started to place the bill on the table but dad passed a twenty and told her to keep the change. He always insisted he pay. Was there guilt for his lack of attention when I was a child? Perhaps. We walked out the door together.
"Thanks for dinner dad."
"It was good seeing you son."
I watched dad's taillights disappear into the distance before pulling out of the parking lot. Was I ready to make a decision about hormones? I'd already found a TG friendly therapist who'd already approved them. Was I ready? Perhaps tomorrow I'd take another walk in the park to clear my mind.
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