And then a revival.
(This is a continuation of a blog posted at MySpace.)
I kinda got carried away this Labor Day Weekend. Friday night, I set up my apartment for a photo shoot. Saturday, I figured everything was still out, so I might as well take more pictures. Sunday, I was busy. No pictures. Monday, I didn't have to go into work until 5pm, so getting up at 9, I decided I had time for a few more pics.
And tonight, I look around, and my apartment looks like a Goodwill truck overturned.And I'm tempted to get dolled up for yet more pictures.
And why not? It's been seven months since I got dressed. It can be expected that when one pens something up, it'll come roaring back.So, that raises the question: Where have I been?
(That's from the MySpace blog. The deeper stuff starts now.)
About a year ago, I attended my first Southern Comfort Convention. I drank too much each night I was there, and was hungover each day, so I missed pretty much every seminar. I also met a lot of people, and instantly forgot many of them.
The day of the swimming pool party, I awoke to find myself feeling vaguely out of sorts. I wandered around the lobby for much of the day, but it seemed like no-one was around. Everyone was in the seminars, (most of which were TS oriented), or at the pool party. Eventually, I made my way to the pool, and my uncomfortableness was only intensified.
Yeah, I was jealous of the full-time girls, whether or not they were "hot". (There were a few who did look fantastic, and a few others who... well, shall we just say, I admired them for being comfortable in their own bodies.) I could have brought a swimsuit and joined in the fun, but I'm not comfy with my physique. Granted, I lost a lot of weight over the course of the previous year, but, that wasn't the only thing that bothered me.
I wanted to be smaller, as in shorter. I wanted to have narrower shoulders. I wanted to have a smaller face. Be less hairy. Summing up, I really started to despise being manly. (Which is not to say I'm incredibly macho.)
Generally, I'm happy with being a guy. I'm not transsexual. I'm pretty sure of that. But I didn't feel like I fit in at all at SCC and specifically at the pool party.
And it's not just the physique: It's the whole social standing. Being a simple crossdresser feels so shallow sometimes. While TS's are talking about hormones and laser, coming out to family, and fears about job security, all I can contribute to a conversation is talk about clothes and photos. (Heh, that's ironic.)
It's as if TS's are adults, and as a crossdresser, I'm stuck in adolescence. And I don't like feeling shallow and simple. But, as they say, "college isn't for everyone", so if to "graduate" and grow, I have to go full-time, I'd rather skip even community college and stay in junior high. (How's that metaphor grab ya?)
But what to do? I can't stay in this arrested development forever, can I?
Okay, overstretched the metaphor, and probably insulted a few people in the process. But I don't know where else to go with all of this: this vacation from dressing was kind of nice, because it allowed me to rediscover some of the simple pleasures. And I do have some very intelligent crossdressing friends with whom I can have intelligent conversations. But, a deep conversation on many CD topics is still in shallow waters.
(Watch for the conclusion to this line of thought at TGForum.)
3 comments:
For quite some time now, I've been telling my crossdressing friends, as they look at me with admiration, to remain crossdressers. It's much easier. That list of things ts's talk about can come with a high price, and I'm not talking about the monetary costs, which as you know are also high. When I went from everyone knowing I was a crossdresser to them learning I was ts, I lost work (twice now), family, and friends. Being a crossdresser was fun, fun all the time. Being ts is living, with a little fun thrown in. If I had the option, I would remain a crossdresser. Only the ts/crossdresser can make that decision. You know this. ...I feel I'm preachin' to the choir! lol
It's all good. Love the photo!
Your metaphor is dead-on, at least as my therapist explained to me. But realizing it and wanting to be something else makes being that teenager a little less fun. I empathize with you, Ive felt the same way in these settings where your not mature enough to play with the grown-ups, and wearing the prom dress seems a bit out of kilter. Sigh. Well sometimes it's enough to share limbo with another, in this case im afraid im just that lame acknowledging voice, distantly heard. Sigh
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