Monday brought about another sure fired need to out do everyone (and look nice) for the cross dresser - transgender meeting. Tuesday, I had a doctors' appointment up in Dayton at the VA Hospital and Wednesday I went along with Liz to her appointments.
Thursday I thought I was going to get a "day off" until it became obvious the car needed immediate attention. Fortunately, the problem wasn't major and the guy at the front desk barely even looked at me when I picked up the keys and paid.
All of this brings me to today. Actually tonight is the "karaoke" social we go to once a month at a local Mexican themed bar/restaurant venue. Looking nice is definitely a priority, although I don't go all out like so many of the other attendees.Which brings me full circle back to Saturday when I go to martial arts again with Liz (to watch) and go a couple other errands like the grocery store.
I can remember vividly thinking how it must feel to have to get ready and apply makeup/outfit everyday.
It just took me quite a while to get here.
I still don't know if it might just be varying degrees of gender dysphoria that make the difference between one being a cross dresser or transsexual (for lack of a better term). Was it dysphoria that led me, at a very young age, to be attracted to feminine things like makeup, jewelry, and dresses? I certainly had a sense of euphoria when I put them on, but I don't know that euphoria needs to be a counter to dysphoria. I do know that the dysphoria was recognized when I began puberty; when my body started changing to something I was not happy to have. The dichotomy of a testosterone surge against my deep desire to grow into womanhood was only tempered by cross dressing experiences. The biggest fete of my life was to, at seventeen, decide to suppress my desires and maintain it for another seventeen years. The darkest period of my life was the next seventeen years, when I attempted to use closeted cross dressing to deal with my dysphoria. Like a drug addict, though, I was only maintaining, and I eventually took the leap to going out of the house as a way to find the fix that would bring back that euphoric feeling.
Hanging out with cross dressers soon lost its luster for me. I enjoyed myself, to be sure, but I still could see differences in our individual motivations for expressing our femininity. After about a year of attending events with this group, one of them asked me a question that really set me on the course of transition. She asked if I were going to disappear, as others had done, because I wasn't feeling the gratification of being involved with a bunch of "mere" cross dressers. Well, yes, I had already determined that I was not like most of them. My femininity was not dictated by a series of events at which I was participating. Those were just things that I had been doing, but I finally learned that they were only a part of who I was. When Thursday nights became the trans version of the movie, Groundhog's Day, for me, I did make my exit from the group. Interestingly, though, the few I did try to maintain relationships with ended up disappearing from my life within a short time, as well.
Although my theory of dysphoria/euphoria is in need of more development, I have found a balance in my own life that causes me to not really care anymore. My gender dysphoria will always be there, but it has become less of a motivation toward what I do to alleviate it; more just a part of who I am that is as innate as my compulsion to breath. Funny, it took finding who I am to be able to really breath."