[SIZE="2"]“Thou callest me effeminate, for I love women’s joys” (Donne)
Don’t we all? I’m reading again, and I came across these words in the book The Construction of Homosexuality by David F. Greenberg. Even though they’re meant to explain or put forth certain conditions for the development of homosexuality (hence the “construction” in the title), I couldn’t help but think about how they might also contribute to the development of crossdressing in young boys, or males in general. Personally, I feel you’re born with these proclivities, but let’s see what the author says:
“One way gender identification develops is through modeling, or imitation of adults – whether or not they are of the same sex as the infant. Children cannot identify with their father when he is away from the household during most of the hours they are awake. On the other hand, identification with the mother (or her surrogate) is encouraged when it is she who takes care of all the infant’s needs.
It has been considered important in almost all societies for boys to grow up thinking of themselves as male, as so many aspects of life have hinged on a person’s gender. Thus small boys must relinquish their initial female identification and acquire a male identity if they are to live a life that is considered normal for persons of their sex. In extreme cases the transition is never made, and the boy grows up thinking of himself as a female trapped in a male body, a transsexual.
Most boys [however] manage the transition. Their fathers are usually not altogether absent; and when they are, other adult males may substitute. Mothers can encourage male children to think of themselves as male and to behave in ways they define as masculine. However, much research on the development of gender identities suggests that when a boy abandons a primary identification with his mother and acquires a male identity, a residual female identity remains latent.”
OK – do you buy this concept of a residual female identity? It’s hard to write this and not trot out another wordy installment of “My Story,” so I will try to be as brief as I can...
I was relatively young when my mother died (from breast cancer), and her death left a huge void in my life. My older sister took on her role, which she hadn’t prepared for, and she soon sought out a reason to leave and did so. That left me caring for my aging father (I was born late in my parent’s lives) all by myself. This is when my crossdressing fully developed and flourished. It had been a long time in coming, popping out in my artwork, my explorations into sexuality and clothing, and my embrace of all things alternative. My passionate interest in female faces and figures (and fashion) had been subsumed by the time of my mother’s death, yet within a very brief period I became a living, breathing female figure. Not quite like going from zero to sixty, mind you, but more like removing all restraints on my latent true self. As such, I went from a world of daydreams to full-fledged transvestism in no time. I didn’t dress to look like my mother in any way, nor did I consciously think I was filling a void by becoming as much of a female as I could. It just happened, and I’m glad it did...
A “latent” female inside me makes a certain amount of sense – I can see how that might happen, but I distrust experts and their need to explain things I take for granted (and hold dear). It was especially traumatic when my mother died, because we were very close. She was my sympathetic ear, my shoulder to cry on, and she sheltered me to a certain degree. We used to go shopping together all the time, visit relatives, and generally talk about everything under the sun, while my relatively shy and insecure (yet tough) father kept in the background. It was odd to wind up caring for him as I did, sometimes crossdressing in the next room while he slept or watched TV! Of course, he also experienced a huge void when my mother passed, but, like many of his generation, he never talked to me about it...
Whenever I have a strong, close female presence in my life, crossdressing goes on the back burner. It never disappears entirely. Right now, I’m in a personal period of rediscovery via information and my contacts with the transgendered community, in books and on this site (via discussion with my peers). I live with my older sister (mentioned above) these days, but the situation is different and complex. Maybe that’s just because I’m older now. My mother lives in me, in fact I can claim to actually be her in many ways – of her three children, I am most like her in appearance, and I have inherited all of her intolerance for certain substances, rudeness, confrontation, and pointless violence. This comes out in what I submit here each and every day, so thanks for reading my seemingly random thoughts. Needless to say, my mother would not have approved of my crossdressing, but, as they say, she’s simply not here anymore. Or is she?
In conclusion, what do you think about this idea of a latent female being present inside of us? More specifically, do you identify with your mother, and wonder about the effect it has had on your own crossdressing? [/SIZE]