Lisa, Lisa….

We enjoy our first ever post by Lisa from the old blog and a wonderful little recent story (circa 2021) she shared with me.

Comment – please!  Having finally accepted myself as a transwoman who is also transphobic, I decided late last year to write down some of the things I like, and don’t like, about being a woman.  After writing out a list (see below), I asked myself some hard questions, such as: am I just being sexist; do I see gender only through the eyes of our current culture; are the differences real or imagined?  I wonder what you think, not only about my list, but about these questions.   I submit that at least some of the things on my list have stood the test of time (that is they transcend current culture) and they reflect some potentially real distinctions between the genders.  There are plenty of fake differences out there that really are just differences between human individuals (such as the proposition that women make poor leaders, have poor math skills and poor spatial reasoning).  I don’t buy any of those supposed differences (and, for the record, I think I make a good leader, I do complex math in my head, and I can manipulate objects in my head easily too).  In any case, after reading my list, do you agree with or relate to some or all or none of them?

I should add that if you think there are no distinctions between the genders in any area, then I would guess you don’t think transgendered people really exist either.  But, we do.

WHAT I LIKE ABOUT BEING A WOMAN

I like that I can be more expressive with my face and hands (total communication).

I like being able to wear nail polish and lipstick in a seemingly infinite variety of shades.

I like that I don’t feel the need to dominate the space I occupy – I can just be there.

I like being able to wear a wide variety of clothes in a so many different patterns and styles.

I like being able to be creative with my hair, styling it however I feel for the day and adding a flower or accessory if I want.

I like allowing myself to feel a bit vulnerable.

I like being able to coo over small children and animals without appearing to be strange or threatening.

I like that people don’t find me threatening at all and that strangers engage with me very readily.

I like smelling and wearing perfumes that fill my senses with flowers.

I like not being required to know anything about sports teams or cars.

I like feeling soft fabrics against my skin.

I like the smooth feeling of my own skin and the sensuality of applying lotion to it.

I like being able to use makeup to make myself look natural, or sultry, or anything in between.

I like feeling like it is OK to be emotional whenever I feel like it.

I like sharing my nurturing and caring side, easily and freely; it is part of my life force.

I like feeling that I am part of a special club of supportive people.

I like that women compliment each other so easily and regularly, and I especially enjoy it when they compliment me on my hair or style.

I like getting/giving hugs (when it is safe to do so).

I like being able to show off boobies — even my small/enhanced ones.

I like being able to admire other women and see them as examples.

I like the feel of dangling earrings, without needing to dress like a pirate!

I like having/choosing a purse, where I can put everything I need/want in something stylish.

I like the feel and look of hose on my legs, at least for a time.

I like tapping into and relying on my intuition.

…AND WHAT I DON’T LIKE

I don’t like worrying about my failure to have enough curves, in the right places.

I don’t like the amount of time it takes me sometimes to get ready and feel presentable.

I don’t like that some people expect me to be weak.

I don’t like how indecisive I can be, about so many things, but especially what to wear.

I don’t like that getting older means I require more makeup.

I don’t like zippers and buttons up the back – I am not (quite) a gymnast and it makes it hard to get ready by myself.

I don’t like narrow shoe styles that look wonderful but pinch my feet.

I don’t like worrying about my personal safety when it is dark, and I am by myself.

I don’t like always worrying about what I eat, and where the food I am eating is going on my body.

I don’t like having to pry my sports bra off after a workout.

I don’t like having people focus more on how I look than what I can do.

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DADT Doesn’t Always Work

My wife was at work all day.  Usually when she is away, I let my inner Lisa run free and yesterday was no exception.  On my lunch break I decided to go shopping — to try on some clothes and look for a fun pair of heels.  I visited TJ Maxx and tried on six dresses.  I took photos of each, and I liked two of them (one on sale for $20 and one on sale for $10), but I had my mind on going shoe shopping (where I eventually spent way too much on a pair of fancy heels), so I didn’t buy either of the dresses I liked.

After I got home I looked at the photos I had taken in the changing room and was really upset at myself for not buying the $20 dress (a form-fitting spaghetti-strap number in red, with cute little flowers on it — a very Bohemian, summer style), because I looked surprisingly good in it — almost like vah-vah-vah-voom).  So, I was determined to go back and get that dress. 

I have a monthly massage to address chronic back pain that was scheduled for 8 pm, and my wife had a dinner with her girlfriends, so I figured that I would hop out to TJ Maxx (in guy mode) around 7:30 pm and see if I could find that beautiful dress.  After getting help from a sales associate, I found that it had returned to the other side of the dress rack where I had originally found it.  I grabbed the precious cargo and headed to the checkout line.  But, I had taken no more than three steps toward the cash register when who should I see coming directly toward me?  My lovely wife, who showed as much surprise at seeing me as I did at seeing her.  This was one of those “one in a million” situations.  She had left the dinner early and just happened to go into the TJ Maxx to shop for clothes for our granddaughter.  I stood there with the dress draped over my arm and simply said, “well, I guess there is no way to explain this other than to say it is exactly what you think” and then I headed to the register. 

Later I told her that I had a good laugh about the situation (and I hope she did too), because one of the risks of DADT is that you may just be surprised!  I was happy that she didn’t seem too disturbed — I think she is getting used to the idea that all of this goes on in the background (and it stays in the background for her benefit).

As a footnote, I found time to go back and buy that second dress too.  Of course, I have also counselled myself that I need to donate some clothes now to keep balance in the universe!