The Big Girl

"Big Girl" Picture by the Ohio River

I have always written about going out when MtF transition to places most likely to make you feel uncomfortable. For example, having to go to an auto parts store rather than a dress shop. Most certainly, the dress shop would be more fun but sometimes the auto parts store is the necessity.

So far, in my relatively short transgender life, I think the most macho place I found myself in was a junk yard with Liz, trying to get a used mirror for our car. It was difficult to dress to blend for a junk yard. But, the fact remains, if you are going to attempt to live a feminine lifestyle, there are going to be times when the "sugar and spice and everything nice" stereotype is not going to cut it.

Sunday, quite by accident, I found myself all so briefly in one of those testosterone macho situations.

Liz and I went to one of the big hardware box stores to look for and have lumber cut for her martial arts class. I didn't think much of it because there are always quite a few women in these stores and it is difficult to find someone to  help you, even if you want to.

Yesterday, to save time and extra steps, we decided to use the contractors entrance nearest to where the lumber is sold. As we came through the sliding doors, I found myself surrounded by a group of men checking out with their construction purchases. I had no choice but to hold my head up high and walk through them.

As I did, I heard a couple of them talking about the "big girl." I thought to myself, I will take it because I am a "big girl." Of course I didn't hear what they said after that. Which was probably a good thing!

Singing in the Rain?

Well, not really. I will not subject anyone to my singing.

As far as the rain goes, we had plenty of it Saturday. Plus, we had plenty to do. For some reason, I am allergic to umbrellas and my hair took the brunt of a rainwater drenching. Seemingly, the rain would let up enough to get from one place to another and my hair would dry up enough to bring curls and friz, then pick up again and drench it.

After about the third time it happened, I gave up and even didn't care much when we went into one of my least liked places...an auto repair shop. By that time, I wanted to get everything done and get back home to watch football.

At least I was fortunate enough to be able to dress for the weather, sans umbrella. I wore a gray sweater, black jeans, gray boots and my scarlet and gray hand knitted scarf, compliments of my partner Liz. The colors by the way, are the same as my fave team The Ohio State Big Ten Champion Buckeyes.

Fortunately, my well worn black leather jacket is still hanging in there and kept me dry too.

So, since I didn't have to sing anywhere and the car was under warranty, a little (or lot of) rain didn't hurt me. At least we didn't get any of the severe storms the system produced to the West of us. And to hell with that umbrella. :)

Cis Gender Dysphoria

Every now and then we transgender women and trans men suffer from tunnel vision in our daily approaches to life. By the way, "cis gender" to me means a person born female or male. For the sake of simplicity, I know these binary birth terms do not apply to everyone.

Last night, I was listening to a cis feminine singer talk about how she worries about how she looks and it interferes with her life. To the point of her questioning the whole cult of beauty. I immediately thought I feel the same way...only worse.

Years ago, when I was first considering making the jump from cross dresser to trans woman, I was told several times by my cis woman friends, "Welcome to our world!." As I saw it then and now, women live in a much more complex world than men.

After all, all women (cis or transgender) worry to some degree about their appearance. Outside of the Walmart queens, the typical woman has some sort of problem with her breasts, hair, legs or other parts of her anatomy. Let alone make up, skin and just what is the proper outfit to wear?

I guess being part of "their world" means accepting a larger share of gender dysphoria.