Girl is as Girl Does

Chicagoans see me as a girl, it seems.

img_8403b1I have yet to break out my girl clothes or makeup, I haven’t taken a razor to my face in almost a week, and yet I have been treated almost exclusively as female, whether in a restaurant, or trying on clothes in a department store, or on the street.

…and that suits me just fine!

Though I had no problem looking through the clothes in the women’s section of a certain department store, I really didn’t have the nerve to ask to be let into the women’s change rooms in my then state of appearance.  But the sales clerk who came by offering assistance referred to me as ma’am, so I thought I’d give it a shot. 

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Walk Like a Man

I am finding that the more time I spend as Jane, the more natural it becomes to act like her… and the more effort I have to make to “act” like a boy when I’m him.

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Undercover Girl

Getting out of the house without being seen, or at least without outing myself is becoming a major problem in my life these days, as I start to go out regularly during the day.

Today, I was wearing a high-waisted short teal blue denim skirt with sexy white stockings, a blousy white top and black riveted belt.  The look was completed with my lovely Calvin Klein high-heeled boots.

The short, but exposed walk to my car in that outfit was bound to catch someone’s eye – after all, that’s part of the outfit’s appeal, isn’t it?

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Big Easy

After a handful of days in Montreal, it suddenly dawned on me that I don’t have to go all the way to San Diego for a place to be free and easy and Janie.

The realization came to me as I was walking down the street looking for a cafe for our Labor Day morning coffee and breakfast.  I’m out and about, wearing scarcely any makeup, in jeans and a t-shirt, and I am as comfortable as can be.  No one looks at me strangely; no one bothers me.  I am treated with respect and courtesy…

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Past Passing

As I was walking around town the other day, I’d take an interest from time to time in whether people noticed that I was not a genetic girl – was I passing?

Trying to be subtle, I could only guess, but I do believe some people “made” me, though no one said or did anything overt.  It is possible it was entirely in my mind.

More interesting, however, was that I started to realize that seeing how well I passed was more of a sport than anything to me; I didn’t really care. 

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Arguing Like a Girl

The other day, I found myself in the midst of an argument, trying to explain myself to the other person without any success whatsoever. I was driven almost to tears by my inability to get my point across.  It was unbelievably frustrating to simply not be heard!

Of course I didn’t cry, because that’s not something I am wired to do as a guy (or perhaps I have disconnected the wires).  Rather, my grip on femininity weakened and I reached for the man inside to set things straight.  A louder, more authoritative voice and a more aggressive attitude do wonders for getting people to at least hear you.

But that cop-out made me feel quite awful – like I had betrayed my womanhood in some way.

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dream in color

Life Could Be a Dream

As I contemplate my  life – and it all seems so complicated – it occurs to me how simple life is in what I call Disneyland. Maybe, I’m thinking of Mayberry. Or is it Pleasantville?

Anyhow, whichever it is, a boy grows up there all wholesome and unconflicted, finds a local beauty to marry and live with happily ever after, has a satisfying job and 3 kids that came to be in the purest of ways. Everybody is happy. Days are spent in productive efforts and politically correct conversation, and the community thrives. In time, they will grow old and wise, and be surrounded with generations of family and friends, until they slip peacefully into the great beyond, with a contented smile on their faces.

Of course, this is fantasy, but the question is, “By how much?”

I sometimes see certain people on the street that look to me to have come straight out of such a scenario. No doubt, I am projecting, but when I see a young, rosy-cheeked woman in a modest but pretty dress, with a wedding ring on her finger and a necklace with a cross, smiling as she gracefully makes her way to her destination, I wonder…

So, Why Not Me?

Why do I make things so hard on myself? Why do I try to explore all the options, to color outside the lines, to reinvent the wheel? Maybe blissful ignorance and faith in the tried and true is the real path to lasting happiness?

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Lingering Doubts

Ever since I returned home from a recent driving trip, I have been out of sorts.  I have fallen into one of those periods of malaise that affects many crossdressers, I’m sure, where I am just not sure whether the whole thing isn’t just a waste of time.

Self-Doubtimg_4766a_thumb

Despite the many strides I have made, there seems to be lingering doubts as to whether I am simply being self-destructive, or maybe even undertaking some elaborate form of procrastination.

I mean, I put a lot of time and effort into all things Janie.

Then, sometimes I find myself face to face with the mirror, thinking, “You’re just such a weirdo.  Wouldn’t your time be better spent on something more constructive?  What good can come of this? Stop trying to be something you’re not!”

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Stuck Being Me

It was upon looking at some older pictures of myself that a distressing thought occurred to me… and often, as now, these thoughts become the subject of a blog post…

I fear that since I have become more womanly and authentic, I have also become a lot more… well, BORING!

Oh, don’t deny it! imgp0296a_thumb

Was a time, I’d wear pink hair and 6-inch heels…

…maybe a caricature, but certainly better for the amusement of others than what I am becoming – which is a fairly regular girl.  When one is counting on the attention of her viewers and readers, it is not by any means a given that “normal” is a good thing.

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Back to Reality

As much as I enjoyed my first Viva Wildside Sin City Soiree, this one blows that experience a mile out of the water!

I am a bit shy, and it takes a bit for me to open up to people.  Last year, I met a bunch of strangers who turned into sweet friends.  This year, I walked into a room of friends and left with real and much deeper connections.

I imagine this experience just gets better – richer – every year…

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