Table of Contents

Introduction 8

Sex Reassignment Surgery 12

Sugar and Spice 17

A Bad Thing 30

Not Gay 38

Transsexual Panic Attack 42

What Is a Woman? 51

Transition 62

Lannie Gets Her Ears Pierced 66

Wavy Gravy, Transsexual Role Model 71

Last Hurrah 75

Chanel 81

Full Time 90

Telling the Family 97

A Rose by Any Other Name 110

Two-Hundred-Dollar Jeans 117

Spring Cleaning 127

My Spiritual Journey 134

Pride 142

Pollyanna 154

"You'll Never Be a Real Woman" 158

E-mail 162

Saying "Yes!" 172

Advantages of Transitioning Later in Life 178

Prevalence of Transsexuality 181

Why I Had Sex Reassignment Surgery 187

Trannie Lib, One Comedian at a Time 199

How I Changed My Body 203

Thoughts on the Eve of Sex Reassignment Surgery 218

Sex Reassignment Surgery Hurts! 221

The Scariest Thing I Have Ever Done 233

Clean Underwear 243

My Transsexual Lifestyle 248

Stanford Bachelors Club 250

Monkey Brains 262

Inside the Women's Locker Room 269

Online Dating 274

Cranberry Juice 287

The Post-Op I Never Wanted to Be 291

DOMA, FMA, the Olympics, and Me 297

Do-Overs 301

Reunion 309

Dancing Queen 314

About the Author 323

Please enjoy this preview of the first four chapters of LANNIE! My Journey from Man to Woman.

Chapter 4: Not Gay

I was not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, as Seinfeld famously said.

I was just not gay. I'd never looked at a cute guy and thought, I'd do him in a minute! In fact, I'd never even thought a guy was cute. (Well, maybe Tom Selleck, but he had that twinkle in his eye, didn't he?) I'd never kissed a guy, except my father. Never wanted to. Couldn't imagine having sex with a guy. Not that there's anything wrong with that, if you're gay, I suppose. Or if you're a woman.

How could I be gay? I was married to a woman for five years, and I had two other long-term, sexual relationships with women.

I was a transgender person, a cross-dresser, a male who preferred to dress in women's clothes and present myself to the world in a feminine persona. That didn't make me gay. In fact, most of the cross-dressers I met were heterosexual.

I did read some gay books, but that didn't mean I was gay. I read And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic, the great book by Randy Shilts about the AIDS epidemic. But AIDS was a national health crisis, for goodness sake. Didn't everybody read it? I must admit, though, the book taught me some interesting things about gays and gay lifestyles.

I also read Conduct Unbecoming: Gays and Lesbians in the U.S. Military, again by Randy Shilts, about the horrible discrimination against gays in the military—a national scandal and a terrible waste of lives and talent. I thought that all Americans should read this book and then write their congressional representatives and senators. It wasn't only about gays, you know. If we discriminate against one group, we may discriminate against any group. They could be coming for you next. Besides, I reasoned, society needs to make progress on gay rights if we are to have any hope for transgender rights.

Sometimes I went to gay bars. Their patrons tolerated transgender types, and the bars usually had good dance floors. I liked talking with gay guys; we got along pretty well. But flirting, well, that didn't work. They were into a "Wham! Bam! Thank you, Sir" kind of sex, and they could tell that was not what I was looking for.

One day I hooked up with another cross-dresser. We had a lot in common—sense of humor, liberal politics, and, obviously, love of sexy feminine clothes. We had some parties together. Private parties, just her and me. We had fun. We ate, we drank, we tried on lots of cute outfits. Then she kissed me. I was shocked and uncomfortable, but she was very patient and understanding. Before long I learned that I could enjoy being physically affectionate with her, even though her plumbing was the same type as my own (the male variety). It didn't make me feel gay, however, because in my mind, she was an attractive woman.

As time went on, I had sexual encounters with several other T-girls. Then I progressed to gentlemen. I still didn't feel that I was gay, because I began to feel that I was an attractive woman.

Eventually, I figured out what my sexual orientation was. I was bisexual. I made love with both men and women. I enjoyed it. It made me feel wanted, admired, loved. I needed it. But there was a problem, you see. Gay guys didn't like me that way because I presented as a woman. Straight guys weren't interested because of my plumbing. Women weren't interested because I wore dresses.

All that left for me was other T-girls and, the trannie chasers—men who like girls with a little something extra. It was a very small and peculiar pool for me to fish in, as far as finding romance went.

Sometimes I think my life would have been easier if I had just been gay.

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