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I had a few close friends, and had a few boyfriends through that time. Sure I had had sex before, not many times, and other than being told I was really good at giving a blowjob by two of my exes, I was pretty inexperienced and naive. My mother was a strict Christian, so if she found out she might kill me. My father had lost his faith, being paralyzed after a work accident, and though we shared a common hobby in watching some sports, he was non-existent in my life, mainly due to his depression since the accident, which was years prior. The accident that had paralyzed my father also earned us a large settlement check, which was putting me through college, as well as allowing us to live comfortably, despite the situation. I took classes online because I was too shy and anxiety ridden to even attempt to go onto a college campus. I was fine with it, I could easily focus on both my courses and my video gaming, as sad as that might sound when you think about it... My morning started. It was when I (nervously) bought my own female clothes and shoes for the first time. It was then I became certain that Jeff was really Jennifer and that she would not go away. In fact, once she got a little peek at the outside world, she would not be denied at all. I tried to put her away or relegate her to an occasional fetish, but it never worked. I even purged all her stuff a time or two. But inevitably the unquenchable need to be Jennifer always came back, and it would come back stronger and quicker each time I tried to deny her. Truth be told, I am glad I attempted to get rid of Jennifer. Because my failure to do so has affirmed that she is who I am and who I was meant to be. The fact that my desire to be a woman would never go away, but had become instinctual helped prove to me that I was never truly a Jeff, but always a Jenn. She wasn’t a fetish or some deviation on being bi or gay, but real flesh and bl**d femininity. Whenever I was her, I felt right and whole. Whenever I see.
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