By Amanda J.
Now, before I get onto the main thrust of today’s post, a little recap from last time. In my last post – ‘OMG, It’s ‘Him’ – I talked about the feelings I had looking at a photo of myself following a professional makeover and quite clearly seeing ‘him’ looking back from behind the beautiful outfit and makeup. I received several nice comments on that post and there was a common thread running through them telling me that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself for talking so much about seeing ‘him’. But when I said I was seeing ‘him’ I didn’t mean that I thought I looked like a ‘bloke in a dress’ but rather I could see elements in ‘her’ that provided an irrefutable link to ‘him’ – something akin to a family likeness – and that, in turn, is an important part of self-acceptance.
There is of course a flip side, hence the title to this post and the two sides are not mutually exclusive – we can see a female looking back at us in the mirror but still recognise traits that we know belong to him. So I’d like to look back and think about how I came to see ‘her’ for the first time.
I’ve had what many outside our community would probably call an ‘unhealthy interest’ in the trans world ever since the mid 1970s when my mother talked about a book she’d read which had been written by someone who’d had a ‘sex change’ (‘Conundrum’ by Jan Morris). Crossdressing started soon afterwards and so began a 40+ year battle with myself to be the normal guy that society expected me to be. Hooray – marriage cured me, for a while anyway, and whilst I managed to avoid the temptation to slip into something more comfortable for a further 18 years (and, believe me, there were plenty of temptations along the way), it was inevitable that it was all eventually going to go horribly wrong (or probably, for anyone reading this, horribly right!).
But all through those years there was one constant thought at the back of my mind – what would ‘she’ really look like? This wasn’t going to be an easy question to answer as it went far deeper than just a question of what I’d look like in a dress, heels, wig & makeup. It really went to the root of the issue with the prerequisite that, when I looked at my reflection in a mirror, or a photo of myself, I had to believe that I was looking at a female, not just male me in a dress. And, when you think about it, that’s a really tall order because, intrinsic to that requirement are the challenges of that being achieved by a biological male well into middle age!
Now this is the point at which I’m supposed to tell you how one day I had an epiphany, looked at myself in the mirror and shed floods of tears while a choir of angels sang ‘Hallelujah’! Errr, not sure how to put this but I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you. Truth be told, I’m not exactly certain when it happened but I can say with 100% certainty that it has happened. But how can I be so certain?
From my earliest days of crossdressing up to about a year ago, it was all about the clothes. I’d get dressed in whatever outfit I had on hand and then spend a while in front of the mirror admiring the outfit. But looking back at me was always ‘him’ and there was no emotional connection. Latterly, I’d also spend far too long faffing around with my phone trying to get photos good enough to post on Flickr (and most of the ones I took never even approached being good enough); that’s another story in itself but, for now, suffice to say that you can’t connect with yourself if you’re constantly worrying about pleasing everyone else.
Purging was also easy because it was only the clothes & other material items that I was getting rid of. Of course, the grief eventually set in and so it was time to restock and start the whole sorry cycle once more.
But then everything caught up with me late last year and, after some emotional difficulties, I realised I had to get a grip. And that’s when I did what would previously have been unthinkable – I got myself dressed up and spent my time pottering around the house without once looking in the mirror. And without the visual cues, I was able to experience far more visceral sensations – how the clothes felt, not just what they looked like. The playful battle with longer hair, on the one hand cursing it for constantly getting in the way but on the other, delighting as it caressed my neck to remind me of its presence. And so on. And apart from no mirrors, I only had one other ‘rule’ that day – I would not spend one minute longer dressed than I wanted to.
Suffice to say that it was a transformative experience and even when, after 5 hours, I had to change back to pick up my son from school, I would have quite happily stayed as I was for a lot longer. Quite simply, I realised that feeling female was far more satisfying than just looking female.
But the inner woman had one more surprise in store. Because having banned me from looking in the mirror, she knew when the time was right to encourage me to do so. And that’s when I realised that I looked exactly like I felt. I was finally able to see what I wanted to see, not what I knew to be there. I saw a woman and everything she was wearing confirmed that. Even without makeup, my face (which causes me untold frustration as ‘him’) seemed happier and consistent with how I felt. And those feelings have come back every time I have let her out to play since!
And that’s when I realised that the answer to my question – what would ‘she’ really look like – was staring me in the face every time I looked in the mirror. I’d just never been ready to accept it. As I said earlier, I don’t know when the switch in my mind flipped. Maybe it happened long ago but my obsession with trying to get photos adequate enough to post just stopped me from realising it. Or perhaps it really did happen during those mirrorless five hours. In the end, I don’t care because all that really matters is that it has happened.
Now, to dispel any fears, I’m not deluded! I’ll never be a contender for Miss Universe or Next Top Model but I don’t care one little bit. My prize is worth far more than anything anyone could win in those contests – I’ve learned to love who I am and whether I’m made up to the nines or just enjoying a bit of no-frills girl time, I can let go of all the baggage from my normal life and experience blissful happiness as a result. And how many people can ever truly experience that?
14 Responses
Acceptance of oneself is so important especially for those of us with gender variants
I tried for so long to get rid of her and well she just never left and now I live with her and accept her
I often thought once I was no longer married that Rachael would be my presentation all the time but even then I struggled to fully embrace that
So I compromised and find myself happy with where I am as being fluid in my gender and well the only thing I’m missing is someone now to share it with
That for me now is the most difficult part of being trans
Thanks much for sharing your story
Rachael
Rachael,
Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts. As you quite rightly say, this is no walk in the park and, for most of us, the best we can hope for is compromise – a far cry from the charmed life that many seem to think awaits us when we cross the gender divide. But there are many positives in what you write and I hope that someday soon, you find someone special to share the adventure with.
Amanda
Amanda,
An excellent telling of your journey up to this time in your life.
It took me quite awhile to learn to not be concerned about passing or not. Because I cannot pass. I am just me and very happy to express female the way I do.
Jocelyn
Jocelyn,
Thank you for the compliment!
Of course, we pass 100% of the time as trans and the more that I read about the overwhelmingly positive experiences of interactions with others when out and about, the more I believe that that’s all that really matters. To all but a tiny minority of the population, their only concern is our worthiness to be treated as female – chromosomes, body parts & so on are irrelevant.
Still nice to look in the mirror and say ‘YES!’ though!
Amanda
Thank you Kandi, that was an unexpected and nice surprise. Over three and a half years have passed since I wrote that and much water has passed under the bridge. Time for an update.
Reading what I wrote now, I sense that I was very much looking for validation at that time. I was desperately seeking anything that would underline my status as a bona fide TG and not just a weirdo CDer getting kicks from wearing women’s clothes. The talk about the ‘no mirrors’ day and looking in the mirror and seeing what I wanted to see underline that. In that context, I was very reliant on photographs but with a catch; there was no consistency with my appearance and as long as I felt I looked somewhat female on the photo, that was good enough. The fact that I could look like completely different people on different photos didn’t matter as long as I didn’t see too much of ‘him’.
Nowadays, I’m well beyond that. I have created a recognisable and replicable ‘look’ for ‘Amanda’ which is good enough to fool most people and gain acceptance from those who I interact with. But in achieving that, I’ve lost interest in CDing for the sake of CDing; it’s now the means to an end – the end being an outing of some sort – rather than being the end in itself. And against that background, I now give far more consideration to what a woman would really wear in the situations I put myself in rather than just going for what my ideal woman would wear – tailored dresses and stiletto heels.
Perhaps most significant is the contrast between how I viewed the future then and now. Whilst by the time I originally wrote the post, I had already seen what was possible with professional help, transition in some shape or form still seemed to be an unachievable dream but it was still something that I was wondering about. Nowadays, I’ve experienced enough to know that it would be entirely within reach if I wanted to and with that knowledge has come the realisation that it is not something I either want or need.
Overall, and as I’ve said on many occasions, it blows my mind to think about how far I’ve come. I have much to thank Kandi and the other contributors for in providing the inspiration for me to push the boundaries well beyond what I thought was possible when I first started posting here and to Kandi in particular for creating this repository for my thoughts as I have evolved.
Amanda,
While we measure most steps as small over the years if we put them all together we realise we’ve climbed a mountain .
Transition is what you make it not and what others tell it should be , that was a lesson I learned within a few weeks of going full time .
I’m sure most of us have something very short and sexy in our bottom drawer , in the right circumstances they can still be fun but again I had to learn very quickly what worked for everyday and I have to admit everyday isn’t so easy .
Is ” fooling” people the right word ? In the past it’s a word I used but again we mustn’t treat people as fools ! We must consider we all have different tolerance levels and that is part of the problem because it makes people unpredicatable . Usually the only way is to build their confidence gradually , earn their respect to gain their acceptance , I still can’t honestly say if eveyone I know treats me with respect as a woman or a man but don’t try and FOOL them it will come back and bite you . Sorry to repeat this but in the last seven+ years I’ve had one lady take objection to me using the women’s toilets , she quized me by asking me straight if I have a penis ? It wasn’t a pleasant exchange but I kept calm and told her I didn’t , she just shrugged her shoulders and walked away . OK I lied but it’s now up to her to prove me wrong , also in hindsight I should be quite flattered because my appearance hadn’t let me down ( OK I fooled her !!) , I know where the snippet of information came from , so called friend .
Teresa, it depends how you interpret the word ‘fool’. I am not a woman, never have been and never can be and when I interact with people, I am quite happy that they will understand my ‘provenance’, if not exactly where I sit in all of this. They may realise that I have XY chromosomes but have no way of knowing whether I am post-op, pre-op, non-op, full time social transitioner or part time CDer. What I do want them to understand through my actions is that I have absolute respect for women and, in doing so, seek their acceptance for what I am. I think that’s a principle that all of us here live by and every day we read accounts that prove that taking that approach pays dividends.
Passers-by, though, are a different proposition. My vulnerability to the consequences of recognition increases because people can point, smirk and make comments from afar with more or less impunity. I have no intention of engaging with someone like that (unless, as you experienced with the penis question, it was a comment made directly to me, rather than about me) and as a consequence to minimise the risk, I’m reliant on ‘fooling’ them into thinking I’m as female as anyone else dressed similarly to me and masking my maleness to the extent that few if any will twig.
Overall, I’m taking the route of least resistance – it’s easier to be seen as a trans male to those I interact with and as a woman by those who see me but don’t interact. Whilst I’m proud of what I am, sometimes it’s just easier to fool people into thinking otherwise rather than declaring ‘I’m a laydee’ a la ‘Little Britain’ to anyone within earshot!!
Amanda,
Thanks for your reply , without doubt it can be a minefield , not quite knowing which is the safe step to take . You have learnt what works for you and I understand that , finding that balance for you is important .
Obviously my situation is different , the game changer being my official name change , my male safety net has gone , my marker is now F , I have to defend that which isn’t easy at times . The battle has been worth it .
Amanda,
An enjoyable read for the second time. With the bonus of an update.
It is difficult for each of us to reach the understanding point of full acceptance of who we are and how we look. When this happens then full confidence in ourselves is attained. “Confidence” in ourselves somehow makes our appearance and outlook become fabulous.
I call it “presenting the genuine me”. I dress the way I want, wear the makeup that is right for me, and use the accessories that I like. The world is more accepting of someone who is completely comfortable “in their own skin”.
Just be the beautiful Amanda.
Jocelyn
Jocelyn thank you and welcome back – we’ve missed you!
You’re right about the difficulty of full self-acceptance as it’s all too easier to get wrapped up fretting about what we aren’t rather than coming to terms with what we are. For a long time, the realisation that I could never ‘pass’ kept me holed up in the closet. In the end, all it took was a mindset change to go from passing 0% of the time to 100% of the time – I just changed the passing parameters from biological female to trans (-sexual, -gender, -vestite or whatever, it doesn’t matter) and found that people accepted me on that basis. As I said in the update and in the reply above, I’m quite happy to fool people but I would never seek to deny what I am if I was ever put in that position.
And as I’ve shed the shackles, I’ve had wonderful experiences both from interacting with people who knew full well what I am but were happy to accept me as me anyway and from mingling amongst shoppers and realising that 99% of them paid absolutely no attention whatsoever to me. All of this was inconceivable when I first wrote the post.
That shift from chasing the perfect photo to just being—feels so real to me. I’m slowly having more and more of those moments and I love it. So happy to see you are, too. It’s wild how much changes when you stop trying to “look right” and just let yourself exist. You didn’t just see her… you finally let yourself be her.
Michelle, thank you for sharing your thoughts. Photos have a lot to answer for! Whilst some definitely give us the emotional boost we need, others are brutally honest in their depiction and fuel our doubts. As I put in the original post, I used to spend far too much time faffing about trying to get the perfect photo and, apart from the heartache that came when the results were at best disappointing, I missed out on a lot of time that I could have spent just enjoying being myself.
It’s strange how much more contentment I get these days from appreciating what I am instead of lamenting what I’m not!
P.S. ANYONE ELSE READING THIS – TAKE A LOOK AT MICHELLE’S BLOG – http://WWW.BETWEENGENDERS.COM – IT’S FANTASTIC!
Hi Amanda,
Like you, “I’ve lost interest in CDing for the sake of CDing”. I have found my ‘look’ and can duplicate it (practice, practice, and more practice). A few moments here and there became passe.
Reading stories here about chasing the perfect photo for the internet makes me happy that I avoided that whole scene. I try to keep a small footprint on the internet, for professional reasons and privacy. Certain events that happened changed my view of how I wanted to live. These events open doors that I never imagined, and I walked through them. I live in a space between male and female where I display both male and female characteristics.
Cali, thank you for sharing your thoughts. Along the way I’ve very much learned that we make our own beds to use a partial metaphor. Looking back now, I can see that I was like a kid in a sweet shop. All of a sudden, things that seemed out of reach were there for the taking and, in all honesty, I doubt that I would have listened if someone had warned me about the potential consequences of what I was doing, consequences I unfortunately learned about the hard way. It’s great to be able to post a photograph online and then sit back as adoring followers tell us how gorgeous we look but what happens if the compliments stop, we become reliant on FaceApp or similar to get anything approaching satisfaction or the photo inadvertently gets shared with people from the other life (the Meta sites are particularly risky here)? You’ve definitely done the right thing by steering clear.
Ultimately, we have to navigate our own path and, as you have done, decide which doors we’ll walk through and enjoy the journey.