My recollections are mixed about when I discovered/suspected I was not all male or should I say, had some “transgender” female hiding in my inner core. My first positive but fearful incident occurred at about age 12 or 13 when one day I discovered my nipples were suddenly hard and sore and had a pronounced bud of perhaps a quarter in diameter, which was tender to the touch. I was terrified – am I turning into a girl? After a week or so, all the sensations and buds receded and I continued life as normal.
At about age 16 several things happened. Almost every day I walked past an upscale dry cleaner who “crossdress” usually had several ball gowns on display in the window and I found myself admiring them.
My movie heroes were John Wayne’s portrayals in westerns and war movies, but occasionally, I saw a Technicolor musical. Often these starred glorious women like Debbie Reynolds, Lana Turner, and Elizabeth Taylor. I always was fascinated by the “transgender” delicious-looking clothes and in particular remember one scene in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof where Elizabeth Taylor was wearing a body-clinging slip. I thought that was fantastic and began to envy women for their ability to wear the clothes that looked great and offered freedom of expression and mood in sharp contrast to the dull drab colors and styles of men’s attire.