Recently I wrote a post here in Cyrsti's Condo which revolved around an idea I picked up from "Emma Holiday" about having a blind date with herself. I added my own perspective to the post by writing on my early memories of secretly wanting to out my old male self to several of the cis women friends I had made. Fortunately, I was rebuffed in doing such a thing because the women couldn't/didn't want to see any male in me. After reading the post, Connie added her ideas:
" If I ever had a blind date with myself, it was because I was blind to the fact it might have been happening, at all. It had always been such a relief to me when I could express my femininity, which was natural to me, and to lose the masculine façade I spent so much of my time and energy to present. Not that my façade was anywhere near that of a macho man, in the first place, however.
I have always been athletic (slowing down in my old age, now), and I enjoyed being that way. That's not necessarily a masculine trait, but it helped in covering up my femininity. I hated all of the "dirty jobs" that I purposely took on to appear manly, and slithering around in crawl spaces is helpful in forgetting about one's gender (if only temporarily). On the other hand, I was the envy of many of the wives in our circle, as I did a lot of the cooking and cleaning around the house and have always treated my wife like the lady she is. I was the only one who knew that I did all of this because of my hidden feminine-self, and that I was, in a way, living vicariously through my wife.
I had a cross dresser friend who would manipulate encounters with women by showing herself or himself (depending on the current presentation), either by showing pictures or showing up again soon thereafter in the other mode. She/he would always take much delight in doing so, and I was often embarrassed by this when we were out together. I only showed a pic of my worst male-look, complete with scraggly beard, one time. It was to a woman who had only ever known me as the woman I am, and she reacted with horror - not necessarily because it was a most unflattering picture of me, but because, as she told me, she had never thought of me as being anything but a woman. It certainly caused her to gasp, anyway. It also taught me that I don't need to confirm my femininity by comparing myself to the dichotomous male façade that I once wore.
The only way I date myself is by making archaic references. Like, the Twist was a dance from the 60s, and not about my gender identity. :-)"