Faux Transition

The “ Pretty Man ” experience set me thinking more and more about the idea.

If it proves possible to give voice to my feminine side without being a woman, then all the inner conflicts about whether I am two-gendered, or which gender I truly am melt away; the stigma of being trans, and the fear of discovery disappear.  I go back to being one person, with one name, one wardrobe and no secrets.

The first sign of trouble, though, came  the other night when I went out with friends, dressed in a tight-fitting mock turtleneck, narrow pants and somewhat feminine flats – all black. 

I arrived and took a seat, feeling all pleased with myself, and quite feminine.  But it wasn’t long before I was acting my normal male way, and by the time it was time to go home, I started to think that I might have embarrassed myself by going out that way.

Visualizing the way it might work

pretty manIn the comfort of my home, I tried to visualize what a real night out as a “pretty man” might be like, how I would socialize; how I would deal with romantic advances, and so on.

It wasn’t easy, but it ended up being a useful exercise.  I realized that in order for the visualization to work, I had to feel and behave in a very feminine way, and suppress my usual masculine tendencies.

More profoundly, I noticed that everything was ok as long as I kept my feminine mindset; however, if I allowed my focus to drift to my guy side, the whole concept was quite unacceptable.

Transition still required

As a result, I understood that I would need to adjust my concept of masculinity throughout my life.

Without this evolution, I would always feel conflicted. Having a part of me that couldn’t get on board with the kind of man I was often being is no recipe for inner peace… especially when that part of me is familiar and natural to me and could emerge without warning as it did towards the end of my night this past week.

I am not saying this is impossible to handle, but it is an uphill climb. In point of fact, going this route is tantamount to a kind of transition.

All my relationships would change.  Friends would find a different kind of guy than the one with whom they could previously relate.  My family would find their brother/son/uncle to be a very different person.

And, GF… well, let’s just say that she would never have dated me if I had been the guy I am contemplating here.

Isn’t it all just being a woman anyway?

All-in-all, the whole things seems decidedly less desirable than what I am doing now.  But, personal growth – especially that which requires a healthy dose of courage – can be daunting.

Or, maybe it just isn’t for me.  Maybe I just love being a man sometimes and a woman others; maybe I just love being a special kind of woman.

Pretty in Pink Polkadots