My NYC two-week all-girl challenge ended the morning of Day 11. That was the morning after tango class with my wife and our ggirlfriend, and I was still floating all aglow. I shaved close that morning but did not present en femme – my tango experience truly had left me feeling fulfilled and complete.
I’m OK with that. That day I worked en drab in the apartment with my client on her project, and with my wife on chores and futzing around. Shopped for groceries, walked our friend to her bus. There was nothing stopping me from dressing to any level I chose, but I chose to not think about it, the line of least attention. For me, that was underdressing with stockings and a lacy cami (baby it’s cold outside), girl jeans, guy shirt, shoes and coat. No bra no forms no butt pads no pantyhose no wig no makeup no jewelry no purse no perfume no shawl no 2nd pair of cute shoes for when we get there.
And here’s the thing: except for the folderol and detail of dressing en femme, daily living in the city doesn’t feel any different en femme or en drab. Nobody blinks an eye and once I am out and about, neither do I.
Despite New Yorkers’ reputation for being brusque and rough, I have always found Manhattan to be friendly and our East Village neighborhood to be friendliest. Perhaps because of the anonymity of vast population, people talk to each other casually. It is easy to strike up a conversation on the bus, in the drugstore line, at the deli, in the museum or theater lobby, at the bar and nightclub. However in all my life as a man, I’ve tended to hang back and watch, to avoid these interactions and not be the one to speak first. This time en femme, more than ever before, I found myself picking up my end of the baton, responding with an open face, even initiating chat. By the end of the challenge I’m doing so significantly more often and with warmer intention than ever before, not trying to do anything but noticing that it is just happening. I like this change. I wonder whether it can now spill into my regular life en drab. Last couple of days, yes.
I have no illusions, during any close encounter I am certain to be read as a man in a dress. But in ten days full-time, out and about every day and often for the whole day and evening, no-one stared at me in any way that I could detect, no whispers nor pointed fingers, no-one said an unkind word, no-one questioned me inappropriately or rudely. It is really different now compared to how it was ten and even five years ago.
I think this is due to several factors. Foremost is the vastly increased social awareness for all things trans, thanks to groundbreaking books, television shows, movies, and high-profile personalities, not to mention gay marriage. But also, I’ve had a lot of practice and spousal support dolling up so my presentation is mostly coherent, I’ve had a lot of positive feedback so my comfort and confidence are high, and my behavior seems truly to be softer even as I remain mostly my usual self. And finally, I’m at an age where raging hormones have subsided and men and women all begin to look more alike.
Whatever, it’s been a great experience and a milestone on my journey. I liked it a lot.
Still, while I dress at home, I don’t go out en femme in the smallish Pennsylvania city where we live most of the time. I’m rethinking that now. I think of the red-hat ladies, and the poem, “When I am an old woman I shall wear purple…” Well, purple is one of my favorite colors. Or maybe it’s all just purple haze.
I’d like to add that reporting here helps me think. I’ve enjoyed the comments you girls have left, thank you all, and I’m deeply grateful to this site for creating our forum.
Xxx
Jackie
Originally Posted by Jackie7
