Noortje
01-26-2012, 10:48 AM
Going outside
Like many of you, I feel the urge to go outside dressed. I would like to go shopping, or have a cappucino someplace. And, like many of you, I am afraid to do so.
I have learned in the past couple of years that many of the things I fear most are not really that dangerous. In some cases, I fear things that never happen. In other cases, they do happen, and the outcome is not at all like I thought it would be (for example, coming out to my girlfriend: big success). In some cases, the things I feared happened, the outcome was as I feared, and I dealt with it and moved on.
In the meantime, all this fear is keeping me from doing the things I want to do.
The experiment
I wanted to find out if going out dressed was really that big a deal. So I did it, as an experiment, to find out what would happen. If the consequences were good, then I would be happy, if they were bad, I would be unhappy, but at least I would know; I would know that I was locking myself up inside for a reason, and not for a figment of my imagination.
I waited until it was night, and the traffic had died down to non-rush-hour levels (about 8.30pm). In the part of town where I live, this by no means makes the streets empty, but going out in dense car/bicycle/pedestrian traffic was a bit too much for a first real attempt. I say this was the first “real” attempt, because I have been outside a couple of times before, but each time was more about skulking in the shadows and running back home than about being outside. This time, I would purposely walk along the big street where I would pass people. My plan was to walk to the supermarket down the street. This is not the one where I regularly go, for obvious reasons, and I know that it is pretty much empty in the evening. My mission: to purchase a bar of chocolate. And make it back home alive!
Experimental data
Part 1: the doorway
There is a song called “dweller on the threshold”, and that title aptly describes the beginning of the experiment. To get down to street level I have to pass the doors to two more apartments, with each providing the possibility of getting caught. I stood next to the door, afraid to fully open it, for what seemed like fifteen minutes (probably more like two). Then I remembered that the purpose of the experiment was to find out what would happen if I went outside, something that required me to go outside. Getting caught by a neighbour would also be valuable experimental data. So I went. None of my neighbours saw me, and after hovering a couple more seconds behind the door to the street, I was click-clacking along the pavement.
Part 2: walking the walk
I was walking down the right side of the street, doing my best to take small steps, walk upright and keep my elbows in. I am pretty sure my walking can be identified from behind as ‘male’. Still, I did not seem to be attracting attention from across the street, the people passing in cars, or the people passing on bicycles (and they are not above braking, turning their heads and taking a good look). So far, so good.
Part 3: chickening out
I crossed the street to the left side and walked towards the supermarket. I was passed by several pedestrians and cyclists coming towards me. As far as I could tell, about half of the cyclists noticed me, and every one of the pedestrians. The streets are well lit, and let’s face it, I am obviously a dude. I also have trouble moving gracefully. However, here is the first key learning: no trouble. Nobody even stared. They just took notice, thought whatever it was they thought, and carried on with what they were doing. However, as I was approaching the supermarket, I noticed that it was very brightly lit. And there was a slightly higher density of people in front of the doors. I stood still in front of the entrance for a moment, and walked away.
Part 4: panic attack
Then came the fear. I have been here before on previous excursions: after the initial excitement of being outside wears off, I panic. I realise that anyone could see me, and find out. What if I cannot make it home? I am trapped outside! I quickly made my way into a quiet side street, my brain feverish with these nightmare images. I took some pictures to distract myself (and attract attention, way to think clearly), and calmed down a little. I turned my mind back to the reason I was out here in the first place: to see what would happen. As a scientist, I know that an experiment cannot by definition fail. You will always learn from it, and this is the purpose of an experiment. I realised that this was less about me feeling comfortable and having a great time, and more about trying something. I wanted to know what would happen if I walked into the supermarket dressed as a woman. The supermarket was right there. I was right there. This was my chance. Time to get some science up in this place!
Part 5: seeing the light
I walked into the supermarket. For a fraction of a second I was afraid the automatic doors would not admit me, but they opened. This supermarket likes to project an image of cheapness (which ends when you look at the actual prices), which means that they went for the super bright fluorescent lighting. People would probably be able to see my y-chromosomes right through my skin, without squinting. And here the nightmare image became real as the first people I met were two bored teenage employees, standing around their unused mops, talking about whatever it is that these guys talk about. One of them looked right at me. He then turned to his cohort and continued with his sentence without pausing so much as a nanosecond. There was no reaction. They did not fall silent. There was no “dude did you see that”. They did not follow me around the store, making fun. Nothing happened. I went to the candy aisle, took a bar of chocolate, and headed for the register. There was a man there paying for his groceries and very much not staring at me; I have to give him credit for successfully hiding most of the enormous effort it cost him. The girl behind the register smiled in a friendly way and took my money. I then went outside and put the chocolate bar in my purse.
Part 6: Pink Fog Prime
Victory! I bought something as a woman and nobody caused a problem! It felt really great, and I decided not to go straight home, but walk around some more. My ankles and feet started complaining that they are not used to covering this much distance in that much heel, but I braved it. The word that best describes my feeling is ‘invulnerable’. I would normally warn against making decisions in that state, but I was so firmly gripped by the fog that I was probably legally intoxicated. I passed several more people in the street, one of whom stared at me in shock, and wouldn’t release me from his stare even as I politely stared back. But I didn’t care. Yes, I’m a crossdresser. No, there isn’t anything you can do about that. Another person stared at me from a car, and kept doing so even after I smiled and waved at them. I was overwhelmed by the fantastic feeling that I get to do what I want to do, and not even rudely staring people can stop me. Then I went home.
Summary and conclusions
from across the street
Drivers who read me: 0%
Cyclists who read me: 0%
Pedestrians who read me: 0%
close encounters
Drivers who read me: <1%
Cyclists who read me: ~50%
Pedestrians who read me: ~100%
Readers that stared: ~5%
Readers that made a comment to me: 0%
Readers that made a comment to others: 0%
Readers that laughed: 0%
Readers that derided me: 0%
Readers that physically assaulted me: 0%
It looks to me like none of my fears (which are summarised above) came true, and the small number of stares I received did not harm me. Conclusion: going outside is not that big a deal. Note: this experiment was done under favourable conditions. The results may not be the same for daytime shopping in a city center shared with a thousand drunken soccer hooligans.
It would be interesting if other outgoing members of the forum recorded these numbers (and other useful ones) for a typical day out. Up until now, what we hear is that “not many” people cause problems, and “a lot” of them are friendly. I would like to know what “not many” and “a lot” really mean.
Like many of you, I feel the urge to go outside dressed. I would like to go shopping, or have a cappucino someplace. And, like many of you, I am afraid to do so.
I have learned in the past couple of years that many of the things I fear most are not really that dangerous. In some cases, I fear things that never happen. In other cases, they do happen, and the outcome is not at all like I thought it would be (for example, coming out to my girlfriend: big success). In some cases, the things I feared happened, the outcome was as I feared, and I dealt with it and moved on.
In the meantime, all this fear is keeping me from doing the things I want to do.
The experiment
I wanted to find out if going out dressed was really that big a deal. So I did it, as an experiment, to find out what would happen. If the consequences were good, then I would be happy, if they were bad, I would be unhappy, but at least I would know; I would know that I was locking myself up inside for a reason, and not for a figment of my imagination.
I waited until it was night, and the traffic had died down to non-rush-hour levels (about 8.30pm). In the part of town where I live, this by no means makes the streets empty, but going out in dense car/bicycle/pedestrian traffic was a bit too much for a first real attempt. I say this was the first “real” attempt, because I have been outside a couple of times before, but each time was more about skulking in the shadows and running back home than about being outside. This time, I would purposely walk along the big street where I would pass people. My plan was to walk to the supermarket down the street. This is not the one where I regularly go, for obvious reasons, and I know that it is pretty much empty in the evening. My mission: to purchase a bar of chocolate. And make it back home alive!
Experimental data
Part 1: the doorway
There is a song called “dweller on the threshold”, and that title aptly describes the beginning of the experiment. To get down to street level I have to pass the doors to two more apartments, with each providing the possibility of getting caught. I stood next to the door, afraid to fully open it, for what seemed like fifteen minutes (probably more like two). Then I remembered that the purpose of the experiment was to find out what would happen if I went outside, something that required me to go outside. Getting caught by a neighbour would also be valuable experimental data. So I went. None of my neighbours saw me, and after hovering a couple more seconds behind the door to the street, I was click-clacking along the pavement.
Part 2: walking the walk
I was walking down the right side of the street, doing my best to take small steps, walk upright and keep my elbows in. I am pretty sure my walking can be identified from behind as ‘male’. Still, I did not seem to be attracting attention from across the street, the people passing in cars, or the people passing on bicycles (and they are not above braking, turning their heads and taking a good look). So far, so good.
Part 3: chickening out
I crossed the street to the left side and walked towards the supermarket. I was passed by several pedestrians and cyclists coming towards me. As far as I could tell, about half of the cyclists noticed me, and every one of the pedestrians. The streets are well lit, and let’s face it, I am obviously a dude. I also have trouble moving gracefully. However, here is the first key learning: no trouble. Nobody even stared. They just took notice, thought whatever it was they thought, and carried on with what they were doing. However, as I was approaching the supermarket, I noticed that it was very brightly lit. And there was a slightly higher density of people in front of the doors. I stood still in front of the entrance for a moment, and walked away.
Part 4: panic attack
Then came the fear. I have been here before on previous excursions: after the initial excitement of being outside wears off, I panic. I realise that anyone could see me, and find out. What if I cannot make it home? I am trapped outside! I quickly made my way into a quiet side street, my brain feverish with these nightmare images. I took some pictures to distract myself (and attract attention, way to think clearly), and calmed down a little. I turned my mind back to the reason I was out here in the first place: to see what would happen. As a scientist, I know that an experiment cannot by definition fail. You will always learn from it, and this is the purpose of an experiment. I realised that this was less about me feeling comfortable and having a great time, and more about trying something. I wanted to know what would happen if I walked into the supermarket dressed as a woman. The supermarket was right there. I was right there. This was my chance. Time to get some science up in this place!
Part 5: seeing the light
I walked into the supermarket. For a fraction of a second I was afraid the automatic doors would not admit me, but they opened. This supermarket likes to project an image of cheapness (which ends when you look at the actual prices), which means that they went for the super bright fluorescent lighting. People would probably be able to see my y-chromosomes right through my skin, without squinting. And here the nightmare image became real as the first people I met were two bored teenage employees, standing around their unused mops, talking about whatever it is that these guys talk about. One of them looked right at me. He then turned to his cohort and continued with his sentence without pausing so much as a nanosecond. There was no reaction. They did not fall silent. There was no “dude did you see that”. They did not follow me around the store, making fun. Nothing happened. I went to the candy aisle, took a bar of chocolate, and headed for the register. There was a man there paying for his groceries and very much not staring at me; I have to give him credit for successfully hiding most of the enormous effort it cost him. The girl behind the register smiled in a friendly way and took my money. I then went outside and put the chocolate bar in my purse.
Part 6: Pink Fog Prime
Victory! I bought something as a woman and nobody caused a problem! It felt really great, and I decided not to go straight home, but walk around some more. My ankles and feet started complaining that they are not used to covering this much distance in that much heel, but I braved it. The word that best describes my feeling is ‘invulnerable’. I would normally warn against making decisions in that state, but I was so firmly gripped by the fog that I was probably legally intoxicated. I passed several more people in the street, one of whom stared at me in shock, and wouldn’t release me from his stare even as I politely stared back. But I didn’t care. Yes, I’m a crossdresser. No, there isn’t anything you can do about that. Another person stared at me from a car, and kept doing so even after I smiled and waved at them. I was overwhelmed by the fantastic feeling that I get to do what I want to do, and not even rudely staring people can stop me. Then I went home.
Summary and conclusions
from across the street
Drivers who read me: 0%
Cyclists who read me: 0%
Pedestrians who read me: 0%
close encounters
Drivers who read me: <1%
Cyclists who read me: ~50%
Pedestrians who read me: ~100%
Readers that stared: ~5%
Readers that made a comment to me: 0%
Readers that made a comment to others: 0%
Readers that laughed: 0%
Readers that derided me: 0%
Readers that physically assaulted me: 0%
It looks to me like none of my fears (which are summarised above) came true, and the small number of stares I received did not harm me. Conclusion: going outside is not that big a deal. Note: this experiment was done under favourable conditions. The results may not be the same for daytime shopping in a city center shared with a thousand drunken soccer hooligans.
It would be interesting if other outgoing members of the forum recorded these numbers (and other useful ones) for a typical day out. Up until now, what we hear is that “not many” people cause problems, and “a lot” of them are friendly. I would like to know what “not many” and “a lot” really mean.