Biography:

I was born in 1942. My father’s parents came from Finland, which means that I am a descendent of Mongols and Huns. My father was transgendered, but I do not know the extent, because such things were never discussed. This is where I got my penchant for melancholy moods and depression.

My mother’s fraternal grandparents came from the Michigan/ Wisconsin area. Great grandmother was more than half Native American, and great grandfather was full-blooded Native American. My ancestral tribe is probably Ojibwa, which white people failed to obliterate despite bigoted, forced assimilation. This is where I got my stubborn desire for self-expression and my spiritual insights.

I never learned to express proper emotion while young; my father did not approve. He wanted me to be a jock, but I refused, and that made him angry. I resisted all attempts to make me be someone I was not. I was never suited for all the macho-stuff; I was more interested in science and arts. I denied that I was interested in girls; such attraction was extremely confusing.

I crossdressed briefly from age ten to age eleven. I had to stop, because I quickly outgrew my mother’s clothes, and I was deathly afraid of being caught. I resolved to fight such impulses.

I hated puberty much worse than others my age. Despite all the denial, I knew that physical changes were taking place that I did not want.

When I was eighteen, my hormones finally kicked in. I finally had to admit that I was interested in women, but it went nowhere. I had never learned to drop my guard and be vulnerable. I was stuck in an image-mode that I did not want in the first place.

After college, I served three and a half years in the Air Force. I was not very good at military stuff either. After my enlistment was up, jobs were hard to get, but I did manage to get a good job in California as a computer programmer. I got to be creative, and there was a minimal amount of social interaction. I loved it. The only trouble was that, in that area of California, there were very few women to date; the age of women’s technical liberation was still years away.

I returned to the Seattle area to work for Boeing in 1977. I made a concerted effort to date promising women. I finally began to open up my emotional side, my woman-side. Of course, I declared that I was not like those crossdressers. I would never do that, and I certainly would never take a woman’s name.

I got married in 1980 to a woman with two kids, a major shift for someone who was practically a social hermit. However, I was not very good at all the social interaction, no matter how much I tried. I was cheating everyone involved by not being who I was.

It was at this time that I became very interested in religion. Throughout my youth, I had held religion in disdain, especially since I had never believed Christian teachings. I had been studying Zen since the early 1970's, but at this time I switched to Tibetan Buddhism. These spiritual teachings had such a profound influence that they are now a permanent part of my psyche. The necessity for being grounded (in who I was) set the stage for the important coming events in my life.

In 1988, we started to have marital problems that brute force would not solve. To save the marriage, I pursued novel courses of action. Of course, the most bizarre decision was to take up crossdressing; I felt it was time. My wife thought such an idea was novel at first, but she became upset once she realized that I was going to carry out my proclamation. My big day was Halloween 1989. I actually went to work dressed as a woman and got away with it, despite all the problems that transsexuals were having with Boeing at that time.

Now where was this going to go? That was to big question at the time. Since my step-son is bisexual, we had already been involved with PFLAG for several years, though I was a poor participant. I appeared crossdressed at science fiction conventions (where Romana was born), and then at PFLAG events. I helped put on the first ever transgender panel at the Seattle PFLAG convention in 1992. Since then, I have never slowed down and continually hone my activist and outreach activities.

However, I was still too stubborn to be effective. I had to learn to take advice and be properly guided by professional wig and makeup consultants. Above all, I learned to listen, and so Romana Annette was born in her current incarnation. No one gives her those knowing "That’s a guy" stares anymore.

Why would someone who is a shy, introverted, socially-inept male geek even consider going out into the world as a woman? Why is simple crossdressing not enough? Exactly what are the advantages of dual-gendered existence? Has getting in touch with my feminine side gone berserk? Some of the best psychologists in the world are wrestling with this dilemma. Of course, however much I try to come to terms with my inner feelings; I have learned that my self-discovery means anxiety for others. I have become a gender terrorist.

When I was eleven, I began to come to puberty, at the same time as many of the girls. Without any clue about what was happening, I began to take an interest in the girls; however, I also began identify with the girls, a contradictory confusion that delayed my ability to have a romantic relationship with a woman until I was past thirty.

Denial does not work. It did not work when I pretended not to be interested in women, and it did work when I pretended not to have an internal woman-nature. I stubbornly resisted any connection the emotional side of my personality. I tried to live my life denying all these inner feelings, but there was a price to be paid: deep depression and poor social interaction. I thought marriage was the cure, not realizing that interaction with women was the trigger. Marriage and other relationships create more complex problems.

Since coming out in 1989, I have been on a (sometimes reluctant) path to a better understanding of who I am. I know that I am different than average, but not so different, because there are millions of others in the world who are like me, in one way or another. I have come to realize that my brain is wired a little differently, that the hemispheres are cross-connected in ways that lead to an unusual reality and identity. I see no contradiction between chasing women and being a woman, and anything involving women causes a warm, fuzzy feeling. Sexual orientation and gender role are not the same for me; I view my sex as male, but my gender as woman-like. My male side allows me to do all the things that men normally do (except sports or male posturing), and my woman-like side allows me to do those things that women excel at, such as being social and civic minded, sharing, dealing with emotions, and pairing and love making. Integrating my sex and gender has become a necessity in my life, leading to self-confidence, discovery, adventure, humor, and even absurdity. I feel no shame or regret, and I have no fear of emasculation. I enjoy my stylized image as a woman, without any obsessive interest in clothing or lingerie. Purging this part of my identity means death.

I am full-time transgendered with part-time expression, but these feelings grow ever stronger with each passing year. I have a lot of resistance, nor do I want these feelings to overpower me, but I am lost without their expression. What do I get out of being Romana Annette? There really is no self-indulgent, narcissistic euphoria. I do not caricature women or do odd posturing. There is really nothing particularly interesting about crossdressing (except on talk shows), and I know all too well that there is not a societal advantage to being a woman. There is, however, a sense of closure, of being correct and of fitting in, along with a release of uplifting brain chemicals. When I go to parties or to the symphony or opera, my mind is always chiding me for not being there in the proper mode: as Romana Annette. So, why not let the logic side dominate my personality? Those who have teenagers should know that emotion always wins over logic.

I realize that my woman-image is not like that of a genetic woman; I do feel free to pick and chose, to mix and match. My task in life is now to balance an impossible set of constraints. I have to hammer away at all the boundaries to better define who I am. Is there any end in sight? I am always in a state of transformation, so there can never be an end as such. This particular pathway will end, because I will eventually die. It will not be tragic, and I do like the end game the best; besides, there are undoubtedly women and chocolate after death!

After completing the above essay, I realized that it told me things that I really did not want to know. I cannot describe myself as a crossdresser; my transgendered nature is far more serious than that. The transsexual term is not appropriate either, because I am really not interested in SRS. If, as my therapist says, the operation is about the cost of a new car, I would much rather have the new car.

I often now refer to myself as a dual-gendered person, for lack of a better term, to aptly describe where I am going. Many view my referral to possessing male sex and a woman-like gender to be confusing, but it is really quite clear to me. If I lived in a just world, everyone would be encouraging me to live life as I wanted. However, life is not fair, but I will fight to have those moments when I properly express my woman-nature.

Years ago, I did not think it was possible to be a woman, until I took a close look at myself in 1988. I do not have a protruding adams apple, and my skin is still like that of a thirty-year-old. Though I do have broad shoulders and a heavy frame, my muscles are extremely lean. Before my last three surgeries, I had no fat on my waist, which enabled to have a fabulous figure. I inherited high cheek bones, and I have had  my nose (which I broke fifty years ago) straightened to match my face.

In 1990 to 1991, when I was entering the transgendered world for the first time, I was extremely trans-phobic and I had a unreasonable dislike of transsexuals. In the intervening years, I have tried hard to discard all these prejudices. And it was not just myself, but the whole transgender community was going through similar convulsions. Now I mix well with other transgendered persons, and I never worry about who is a crossdresser, who is a serious transgendered person, or who is a transsexual. Such distinctions have become irrelevant.

Before being a active PFLAG member, I used to sweat the homosexual implications of crossdressing because the image was like an erotic disguise. More worrisome yet, I found many of my transgendered friends to be attractive, but that did not seem right. I now realize that I have a same-gender orientation, where my gender is woman-like, and the objects of my affection are other women, whether they be male or female. I need to embrace such affection; this is not about sex, because I have never had sex with anyone but my wife, and I do not intend to change this. I am not very sexually adventuresome. Also, unlike some transgendered people, I do not identify as a lesbian, and I try hard not to lay that label on my wife.

I have been accused of having an unreasonable preoccupation with dresses and skirts, but I think this is just my natural inclination. Men’s clothing cannot satisfy my individualistic concept of appearance and presentation. I would rather buy women’s clothes than men’s clothes, and I would rather appear as a woman than a man at all dress-up events. I do think women look just as attractive in pants and shorts, but I do not look very good in such clothing.

My therapist once said that the only way to judge HRT is that it makes one feel more correct. I have been taking drugs to reduce my testosterone levels for some time. This has been a tremendous help to reduce my mood swings. It has also changed the shape of my eyes, and I would swear that it has even made my voice more androgynous. Some day, I may take estrogen.

Once I successfully appeared as Roman at my 40^th high school reunion, I felt poised for more serious transgender expression.  In the intervening months, I have had so many successful outings that I no longer even document these events.  I never expected to pass; I am astounded how many people simple assume I am a woman.

I have worked hard to overcome many bad habits. I can now change in front of my wife without suffering any anxiety, and I do try to consider her advice about clothing color combinations and accessorizing. I have taken extensive makeup lessons, and I only use makeup color combinations that match my complexion. My current wig was recently purchased at a salon near my house and professionally styled.

I am ready to take on the world; I can succeed at dual-gendered existence. It is hard to convince people that my man-mode is an enforced social convenience. It is also difficult to deal with restrictions about who can and who cannot know about Romana Annette, since this generates internal conflict. I firmly believe that presentation and attitude are more valuable than clever explanations for something the really cannot be logically explained. While I as a transwoman am the one who is actually taking the heat, my wife unnecessarily burdens herself with anxiety and guilt. This is the greatest hurdle that I face in my coming out process.

• March 9, 2005