It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that bling

I have always been one that loves to accessorize, and I don't mean just outfits(wink). I have always had this drive to hear the language of the world around me and do as it commands. Sometimes, it may be leaving scattered flowers along a path leading the way to a glorious magical moment. Maybe it is wearing my gold Isis wings on the beach or while roller skating along the water front. Why? You may wonder....because it feels fucking great!!

The first time I really took a brave step out and start to express my love for color and texture in an outfit, was my 8th grade graduation outfit. I worked gardening for store credit trade at Steven's Fine Men's Clothing, when it was still in Warrenton. My outfit was a fuchsia Polo shirt with a turquoise horse that was accompanied by a cashmere sweater of the same turquoise with the fuchsia horse (my aunt still has it, I pet it when I can...so soft now). My hair was feathered perfectly! My grandma had taken me down to Stylemasters, I always liked going there because the girls always told me how beautiful my hair was... Miss those days. We would also go to the Brass Rail for salads with blue cheese dressing, so good and house made croutons from rye bread! Anyway(sssss), that was my first big jump out from the gray, brown and navy blue life I had been in for those 9 years at Star. I remember being at my 20 year class reunion and someone had brought the photo and I just lost it! Sitting around the table, all us Star kids, gabbing like we were back in the cafeteria and the stories that came up, oh my!!! And then someone chimed in,"and there is Mark, always pushing the buttons and rules! I looked so pleased with myself.

You may be wondering what is this 'Mark' shit? Mark was my past, he was the perfect good boy, that really wasn't. He was the one who hid in the closet out of fear. Mark was damaged. His system was greatly flawed and so he was put away in a tidy box and walked away from. Marco is who I am. I had to claim myself from the wreckage of my life post rape, post attacks and post fear of everything. I couldn't be afraid anymore, I couldn't let it look over me and always threatening to strike. I decided to stand firm, turn around and great my fears and get to know them. I have many. My main issue was that I couldn't be alone. Couldn't walk places by myself, couldn't go to the store alone, I was crippled with fear and worked extra hard to not let anyone know I was freaking out because I didn't want anyone to know I was damaged goods.

Marco has been my greatest accessory!! He has made my every outfit pop! He has pushed me to grow further than Mark ever thought he could. Those two years in NYC taught me so much. The best lesson was learning to be alone. Sure, I was surrounded by people always, but you have to learn to take care of yourself and that that required finding a voice. I know I'm loud, but I'd scream words, I wanted to find my voice and to do that I had to speak up and own my words and more importantly my actions.

Over the years, I've tried just about everything on. I love the bling and the eye catching outfit! And I've tried them all. When I returned from NYC in 1996, I got another incredible accessory, her name was Stella and she was my mannequin! I really loved her so much! I was living across the street from Star of the Sea, in the 'Brady' apartment building. My apartment faced the school on 14th and it got to where I changed her outfits weekly! I would always debut them on Sunday mornings after the 8:30 mass. There I go pushing those boundaries again. I would love to sit off to the side, hidden, and take in the reactions!! The best we're always the cars backing back up the hill to get a second look. She was really something! She was also well know around

town. People would always ask after her. Then, people started leaving me outfits for her! I am serious. I ended up moving into a two bedroom so that I could make room for all of her stuff. It was my first drag lab! You do know I wore all those things myself, right!!

She helped me to start unlocking that feminine aspect of my being. 

And now, I have me, Daylight. I have stepped in it fully and have been swishing around for years. Each step I understand more. I love the getting dressed up, becoming complete. I feel so alive when I get to walk out the front door and out to someplace to be with my friends. As a queen, walking down the street to the bar to meet my friends..fear a distant life,still an echo, keeping me alert, like watching for elk.

What I have been discovering, the gout has really been assisting, is that my bling is my heart. It is my big red ruby. It has shown me that I require nothing. I don't even cringe when I'm called Mark anymore. I love how strong and brave he was and how he pushed me to be me! 

I am my greatest bling! I think that is why I always feel so comfortable in all the multiple types of outfits I choose to wear. The are all extensions of who I am and I got to express it. We all do. We owe it to ourselves to let our bling shine! That is what DRAGALUTION is all about. We may start feeling like we are 'dressing' up but after awhile you realize that what your are really doing is speaking your language with all of the textures, colors, patterns and sounds of your outfits. It becomes your voice, a means to communicate without words. Art.

I see you. I love watching you own yourself and making eye contact on the street. I love it when we have a moment of song, a hug, a big laugh, our hearts melting a little bit with each exhale. Let's make this our season of bling and shine bright for ourselves and one another.

If I should die before I wake, or another curious adventure of chub rub Davis

These past few weeks I have gotten to spend a lot of time with my siblings. It has been incredible. Oh, the stories that we talk about! Or, they ask me to tell them the story because I am the one with the memory and never forgets anything....it is a blessing and a curse. Now, my mother has always liked me to keep my big mouth shut because I have a tendency to just talk talk talk and say what is on my mind and not use a filter. It is a gift....that my mother would like to return (wink).

Anyway(ssss), I have always been a firm believer in talking. I think it is important to share our stories, good and bad, and understand one another a bit more than just surface chatter. I consider myself very lucky because I am surrounded by a community of friends that talk about just about anything. We laugh, we eeew, we cry and try to understand and judgement stays out of the room.

Many stories have been jumping up in my mind and one in particular is just begging to be told. This is one of those stories I really shouldn't tell because it is just too embarrassing but it has taught me so much. I believe it is the beginning of my path of shame that I wandered down for far too long. Ok. I'm gonna do this. It is much better than the shrimp story...

"If I should die before I wake I want you to know I've always been a slut. I guess that is a strong word. I have been sexually curious and explorative since about the age of 11.

It all started with a friend in the neighborhood. We were naturally thrust together because we were the chubby kids in the hood. But we did far more than eat together.. These stories have been bubbling up to the surface for years. I had a few I always remembered; like the time we were laying out in his backyard.

I was wearing my short shorts (blue with yellow trim, my gym shorts from Star of the Sea) and I had a boner and I was making it pulse for, we will call him Jimmy, and he thought it was so funny that he called his mom, who was gardening near by, over to see my neat trick.

In my mind, I knew it was a sin, yet, I maintained the essence of innocence as she came over to see my neat trick. I pulsed it for her, grinning through my bucked tooth shyness, my feathered hair being hit by the sun giving me a halo effect, which did not work. She said that it was not a trick I should be sharing and that we should go play.

We were always exploring/role playing.. One of our games  was for Jimmy to be waiting in the chicken coop in his deep backyard, and I would come over and pretend to be 'Tina' the neighbor girl coming over for a visit and we would make out and touch each other...with our eyes closed because then it wouldn't count. Yeah right. These scenarios varied from day to day but we made out and touched each other often.

We would also go into my hidden back closet with a flashlight and magnifying glass and examine our crotches for incoming pubic hairs because I had noticed a few of the boys in the locker room getting tufts of dark hair there and under their arms. I really wanted mine to grow in so I could be a sexy man like Bo or Luke Duke from the Duks of Hazzard. Or maybe like the sexy guys I would see in the YMCA locker room. I have always hated that my back and front chub never allowed my butt dimples or front v to ever show. I wanted them so bad.

I think the biggest blow in jimmy and my relationship came after I had moved from my one room with the hidden back closet and I moved into the North bedroom it was much larger. I was able do do my shell collection justice and spread it out. The closet, however, was a small project I had taken on and dad helped me build a cedar tongue and groove closet with one shelf. The problem was it was only 18-24 inches deep. Not really the space we were used to.

I built an extension tent to the closet. I used fancy sheets and fabric and poles and string to create a mystical tropical place where it was always warm and required us removing our clothing.

On one of our exploration sessions, Jimmy said he wanted to hump me. I asked him what he meant ( I was being schooled by nuns and told that just touching myself was a sin) and he said it means that I lay on my stomach and he would lay on top of me and rub his dick between my butt cheeks until he peed. And that is what we did.

I guess we were loud and as he was peeing between my butt cheeks, my dad drew back the flap of the tent and saw us both naked with Jimmy peeing between my cheeks. He said we needed to go outside and play. To this day, my dad has never mentioned the incident.

I never got punished. I don't know what was, if anything was, said to Jimmy's parents. I remember them moving soon after and I have never spoken to Jimmy again.

I think of him often. I wonder how he looks back on our time together. Or does he? It is strange I have felt ashamed for our relationship and my sexual orientation for years. I've felt dirty and perverted but never bad about it. We were innocent in so many ways. We were developing and exploring during a time when people just didn't talk about sex with their kids. All I knew was that everything I liked and desired I was going to burn in hell for all eternity. So, I kept my dirty perversions to myself and presented the world with a sweet perfect boy. But that isn't what the people saw. They all saw through me, years before I ever could and I can not for the life of me figure out why... Why I didn't, why I couldn't see. Blinded by my shame I was trapped in a shell of a body that was not me."