Seeing Red

Merriam Webster’s definition: to be excited or emotionally stirred up with anger. Yep… that explains it.

I never know when a thought will hit me that is worth pursuing for an article. I love the challenge of finding parallels in thoughts and assumptions. “Seeing Red” has a duplicitous meaning for me. Not as much as it used to be, but still relevant, even today, and one I think you’ll find amusing.

I’m heading home, and although the traffic in my area is minimal compared to a large city, it can still cause me to string together a sentence of negativity towards my fellow drivers. Why is it that one carefree individual can cause so much duress to those who feel hurried to get to their destination? If you want me to see red, then by all means drive ten miles per hour under the speed limit with no means for those anguishing to pass having a way to do so. Nothing, and I mean this sincerely, causes me to lose my cool any quicker and with powerful emotion than in dealing with all the other less than perfect drivers. I am aware that I make my own share of mistakes and cause the same outrage with me to happen in others. This is the nature of driving. It is also the nature of being a crossdresser.

Besides driving (for me) this life of a crossdresser has been one of the quick emotional outbursts and bipolar impulses in the severity of the high and low. A casual drive that is relaxing can turn into resentment the moment someone impedes our progress. Sound familiar? I also doubt that there are two other activities that cause one to spend an exorbitant amount of time talking to oneself…

What I long to be is the driver who sashays down the road without a care in the world, unmoved by the opinion of others and content within their place in the world. Much like an aged crossdresser trying to explain to a younger one struggling to understand and accept this life and their place in it. Peace is magical, it is salvation, and it is generally just out of one’s grasp. When we think we have it secured, it shatters easily and becomes placed further out of our reach.

In either case, I find it hard not to see red. I’m better at both today than I was in the past. Accepting my crossdressing self is much easier than forgiving the two semis on the interstate, going five miles per hour under the posted speed, as one tries to pass the other for… 10 miles… I no longer see red and toss all of my clothing and accessories away, once punishing that part of me that is more important than I ever realized.

I’ve settled in one part of my life, becoming the acceptor of my lot in life, and finding value and rewards in doing so. Seeing red now is equated with my desire to present as a Scottish lass in long, flowing red locks and killer heels… The smile on my face is genuine. I enjoy being me, being free. If I could only get rid of all the other drivers and have the road to myself, life would be nearly perfect…

Is there some tidbit of grand wisdom in my thoughts? Simply this. Letting others evade our peace because of our self-defined perceptions is a bad recipe. I found a way to curb my anger when driving and I learned to calm the demons that tore at my soul and accept that getting there 5 minutes earlier isn’t worth dying over nor is figuratively cutting off my nose to spite my face…  When I eventually die, the list of positives of being a crossdresser, transgendered, two-spirit, gender-neutral, or any other term will vastly outweigh the negatives. Someone might compliment me as handsome in my suit and tie, but it will never make me feel as good as when I know I’ve put together the perfect outfit, heels, makeup, accessories, and then complete it with the exquisite shade of red hair…

Until next time…

Be content, be inquisitive, and above all, be at peace.

More Articles by Sabrina MacTavish

• Left or Right?
• A Small Fortune
• I got a Letter!
• The Gift
• Good Intentions

The following two tabs change content below.

• Bio
• Latest Posts

Sabrina MacTavish

I've been on this path for nearly 50 years, beginning at age 7 when I wore my grandma's old dresses with my cousins. It felt natural. Later, I went through the fetish stage and fought with my insides. After my divorce 20 years ago, I let Brina out only to bury her away during another relationship. Now I accept that she is more who I really am and live my life in the hopes that my path will one of future happiness. Over the last 6 years, I've found out more about who I am, the path that I'm on, and what it means to be transgendered. I've also been much happier since I acknowledged and accepted myself for who I am. I'm still much in the closet as responsibilities take precedence. It doesn't help being an introvert by nature, but I will gracefully walk (mostly, ok, not so gracefully) this path as I become a better me.

Latest posts by Sabrina MacTavish (see all)

• Left or Right? - November 8, 2024
• A Small Fortune - September 2, 2024
• I got a Letter! - March 9, 2024