Nothing scares us more than the erratic pattern of our crossdressing lives; sometimes forced by situations such as vacations or extended guests staying at the house, or even the Pandemic. The most worrisome is the break that happens when I can but don’t dress, even more so than the extended dressing when I really start to believe that transition is the next logical step.
Such is the life of being more than just a crossdresser. If I’m being truthful, I think we all are, but we don’t want to wear the label. I don’t mean this as an affront to those who strongly state their heterosexual maleness with a passion for dressing in women’s garbs as more of a fetish. My comments hereon in hopefully speak to those of you who question your place on the ever-evolving gender scale.
I’m going to skip the science lecture on genetics and DNA. Let’s just talk about it in a commonsense way. We are equally (other than our male Y chromosome) parts of our mother and father. That small Y puts us on the path toward being male, but it doesn’t preclude us from inheriting traits from our mothers. My point is that when you take away only the “sex” component, we are a product of the historical evolution of men and women. It has produced all humanity and its versions, forever being blended together as the purity of containment disperses worldwide. There are still pockets where iconic traits still hold, but for how much longer? We are by nature an ongoing mutation toward…
Our deviancy isn’t genetic, it’s social, religious, and construed by those who wish to suppress it. Who we love, how we look, the color of our eyes, our health, etc. are all products of inherited traits. Having or not having the Y chromosome in the simplified meaning enforces determined sexual characteristics. It doesn’t wire our brains to align with as much as we might believe. That is what culture, society, and religion do plus all the other genetic input. I can’t speak to this, as I am not on HRT, but the effect of testosterone and estrogen balance clearly alters perceptions. Do I have the desire to be feminine because I’m naturally inclined with more estrogen? If they shot me full of testosterone, would I cease in my desire to dress? This is the battle raging in the political arena. Their major determination for being male or female is the presence of the Y chromosome and the produced or lack of physical traits. Common sense should abound, but it rarely does. We know better.
Open mind or closed mind? No middle ground? The world is this or that, with me or against me! The truth is that certainty is the minority, and the grey area is the majority, as it is in most things. Otherwise, we’d never have fuzzy math or the invention of new words. Science adapts, so why doesn’t culture? It does, but only when dragged out of the dark ages by the masses who overthrow the established order. Our history (worldwide) has been shaped by war and counterwars, similar to what we find going on today.
So where has my woman gone? Nowhere! She ebbs and flows with the moments and the expectations of what is needed. When I go a few days and haven’t dressed, I guarantee that I’ve thought about it, wanted to, and sometimes said, “Nah, not today.” If that turns into a week or a month, is it significant? Is something changing and I need to reassess? That’s where the anxiety of being who I am likes to rear is ugly head (the voices of doubt and society trying to sway the grey.) The last three weeks have been one of limited (for me not on vacation) dressing patterns. When looking at it backward with thought, it isn’t what I might have tried to make it out to be; a changing attitude toward myself and what I think I am. No, it was really nothing at all. Like many of you, my femininity loves to be expressed by long nails, hair, heels, dresses, the full experience. I get by most days or the rest of my day by the simple pleasure of wearing “typical” women’s underwear (cotton even and plain colored). I had an estate sale to get ready for, outside yard work that needed to be done, household cleaning projects, several consecutive days of events to attend, a get-together with my daughter and her family, and dealing with a major bout of poison ivy. None of those things screamed, “Put on my dress and heels,” let alone artificial long nails and makeup. If I’d transitioned and had my own long hair and nails, I’d be mad because of the damage done to them, and I most assuredly wouldn’t have had my makeup on while weed-whacking (catching my usual case of poison ivy) or digging up the garden.
I am allowed to feel as I feel for the situation that I am in. It isn’t and doesn’t need to be black or white or pertaining to be male or female. If I were on the female side, I’d put on my garden gloves, tie my hair back in a ponytail, throw on my grubby clothes, and go to work. Is that male-oriented? See… society and culture thoughts getting in the way. We do it to ourselves; this is what I think is female and what is male; why? Because I’m always looking for justification. Being a blend of male and female isn’t bad, it’s actually pretty basic within all of us. We place too much emphasis on the outliers, the things we see as pertinent points, such as that which only a male or female has or would do. Not long ago women couldn’t vote and only men could be members at Agusta National Golf Course. Perceptions change, albeit very slowly, but change is inevitable. With inevitability, there is also hope. With hope there is the possibility of attainment.
I had to fill out a few questionnaires recently. One, I still marked male, the other I bravely used one of the other descriptive categories-non gender conforming. I’ve noticed an increased selection option with many requests instead of just Male, Female, other, or prefer not to say. That’s a positive step. I type this in my usual Brina dressing style sans makeup and nails. Later today, it’s painting outside in my full male on, but Brina will be smiling inside, even smirking because someday she might actually be doing something similar while having her (or wig) hair in a ponytail… not that it matters because who we are is more than just a Y chromosome or lack of.
Until next time, be happy in the moments you find peace and breathe deeply when you feel the anxiety rising. You got this!
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