By Kris Burton

Yeah, I had to go Joe Jackson here…..

Part I – Developing an Approach

If you have read my bio, you know that I am a lifelong musician and music educator. I have spent a large portion of my professional life either performing music or teaching others to do so. For many if not most there is a barrier of anxiety that must be conquered, but once done it can be very rewarding on both a personal and artistic level. I am one of those for whom performance did not come naturally. I am rather shy by nature and have a tendency to avoid social situations, especially the ones where I feel I am the center of attention. I admired the work of others I but at the same time found it intimidating. How could I measure up against such artistry? How could I ever prepare enough to take on such a task? I envisioned performance as having the potential for embarrassment, disaster and rejection were I to fail. This kind of performance anxiety is often referred to as “stage fright”. I’m sure you have heard of it, maybe even experienced it. It is quite common. There is a wealth of information online to help musicians, actors, public speakers and others that present themselves publicly to overcome it.

However, I have not been able to find any research into aiding the CD into being able to step out into the community en femme. I have been crossdressing for a far shorter period of time, and stepping out publicly less than that – at the time of this writing just a bit more than a year. Like so many others, I believed that I would never be able to publicly present as my alter ego, and admired those who seemed to do it so naturally. But oh my, how I desired to do it myself! As I developed my presentation it became a goal, and I knew one day I would have to at least give it a try, consequences be damned!

How well I remember my first public foray. It was brief, impulsive and as looking back on it not very smart. It was about 6AM in the late summer, still dark. I dressed up quickly, almost haphazardly and took a brief walk up to the corner Wawa for a cup of coffee. The few patrons filling their gas tanks or coffee cups seemed not to notice my tentative presence. I simply got my coffee, walked up to the register and paid. I know I surprised the cashier with a “Thank You” in my regular male voice and I’ll always remember the shocked look on her face. Although in retrospect this whole event was amusing it was more than a little risky and not a recommended first experience. My aloneness and the dark seclusion of the parking lot could have easily gone sideways, creating an insulting exchange or even inviting a physical encounter. Such a negative experience would have been disastrous, or at the very least could have cast a pall over any future efforts in an activity I now find so rewarding. I was fortunate that didn’t occur and I’m sure I gave the cashier something to talk about to her co-workers later in the day.

Although I can now laugh at this early attempt to engage my feminine self with the outside world I realized to be truly successful I would need to develop a new game plan. I did not want to put myself in a questionable situation again, and I would need to develop the confidence to be able to effectively pull off what I had so desired to do. But how could that be done? How could experience and confidence that it brings be developed in an environment that could prove to be a vicious circle? How could I get past such overwhelming self- consciousness? I would need to develop an outside of the box approach and outlook. It was at this point that I began to formulate a theory of sorts. Based on my limited personal experiences and casual conversations with others I hypothesized that the inhibitions I was experiencing were in fact a form of stage fright, and with the right approach could be overcome.

My performance and teacher training had taught me that in order to gain experience and build confidence, a novice performer should take small, achievable first steps in order tip the success scale in his/her favor. One would not select Carnegie Hall for a first performance. In working with a school band we always played our first concerts in the school auditorium for their delighted and approving parents before entering a musical competition away from their familiar confines. Applying this to my situation I decided my second excursion would be to a venue which felt secure and familiar. Again relying on discussions with my more experienced CD colleagues and friends I surmised it was best to choose a place that was well lit and well attended for maximum visibility and safety- almost the reverse of what you might think. I immediately thought our local shopping mall might be perfect, and right in the middle of the day at that. I also remembered that if I was to perform at a new venue I would try to visit it prior to the performance – get to know the lay of the land well as it were. I decided to visit the mall “in drab” – a reconnaissance mission of sorts as my regular male self with an eye toward my prospective outing. What sort of persons might I encounter? Where were the doors, the entrances and exits? Where were the stores and restaurants I wished to visit? Where were the bathrooms? Walking through the mall I fantasized about doing so as my female self, imagining the things I might do and situations I might encounter in order to prepare myself mentally as much as possible.

Any performer worth his/her salt should always be aware of the room he/she is playing in order to fit in, unless standing out is exactly the point. You would feel horribly out of place if you were to wear a tux or gown to the local bar or coffeehouse. A shopping mall is more like one of these , a casual setting with folks dressed accordingly. I determined that blending in provided a much more achievable goal and a much better match for my personal outlook. I made the conscious choice to dress casually but stylishly. I reasoned who among us has not admired a lovely woman wearing jeans? I would also try to do my makeup as well as I could for an everyday rather than dressy evening appearance. On my recon mission and also in my everyday life I began to get a good look at what women wore in everyday situations – very discreetly of course so that the ladies would not misconstrue my motives. I discovered along the way that there were many things that I found quite feminine and liked quite a bit. As much as I favored a more formal look I need not be locked in to dressy attire only. My taste began to expand as my overall presentation began to develop beyond the solace of my home – a positive side effect in my estimation.

I found as I applied these familiar (to me) techniques my apprehension at once again scaling the daunting challenge of stepping out into the community lifting. Would my new approach yield a positive result? In Part II (this coming Monday) we’ll take a look at how it went, and what I learned along the way.