What Came First?

For nearly a half a century I considered myself a cross dresser rather than a transgender woman. Part of my excuse was the term transgender wasn't even used for most of the referred to half century. However, the biggest part of the blame is on me for refusing to realize the person I truly was...a trans woman. Also, I never really agreed with the old school idea of transsexual women having to have "the surgery" then disappearing into the world with all their knowledge and life lessons. Thus, the beginning of the term, "trans nazi."

For another idea, let's check in with Connie:

 
"Maybe the spark has to come first, and not from the expression or presentation itself. As trans women, many of us spent a lot of time living a male-oriented life, cross dressing as time and situation allowed. The spark that leads to cross dressing is the anticipation of the feeling of the end result. Cis women don't see it that way, and I believe that transitioning trans women eventually reach a point where their perspective is closer to that of a cis woman. That is, femininity is not so much a feeling as it is another aspect of their womanhood.

It seems that the binaries of male/female, man/woman, and masculine/feminine all are bookends for their respective spectra. They are not mutually exclusive, and the possible combinations are endless. I think that many trans women - especially those who are satisfied with being occasional cross dressers - are often more in search of that "feminine feeling" from the perspective of their male-selves. We may well be picturing what we see as the ideal of femininity, and then we proceed to try to mold ourselves to fit that ideal. For some, that act can lead to not only good feelings, but outright euphoria. Then, there are those of us who have come to a point where the thrill is gone. It's just not realistic or sustainable on a day-to-day basis.

I was never secure in my masculinity. For most of my life, I tried to feel good about myself by looking and acting in what I thought to be was an acceptable (if not ideal) masculine way. The results of my efforts were never satisfactory because the premise was wrong. Suppressing my innate femininity simply could not make me masculine. Now that I've shed any expectations of masculinity, however, I have become more secure with my femininity (even while doing things that may be considered to sit more toward the masculine end of the spectrum). I don't need to get all dolled-up to feel feminine, but doing so often makes my feminine-self feel good.

This past weekend afforded me that opportunity for three different events. I felt happy about my physical expressions of my femininity, but I don't really think I felt I was more feminine because of them. In fact, because we had quite a wind storm Friday afternoon, we arrived at the home of our hostess to find that she had been without electricity for three hours. Not only had she not been able to, as she called it, "swank herself out," the light from the fireplace and a few candles was not enough to reveal our efforts, either. Yet, I don't think anyone felt any less feminine. My wife and I laughed on the way home about how we'd gone to so much trouble for nothing. I joked that we had literally left our hostess in the dark, but there was little doubt about our femininity. "
I like the term "swank herself out!" Thanks for the comment :)

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