Frédérique
03-05-2012, 05:25 PM
"I looked back and glimpsed the outline of a boy
His life of sorrows now collapsing into joy..."
(from "I Surrender" by David Sylvian)
I came across the title for this “essay” quite by accident, tucked into a delicate pamphlet like a quiet whisper. I nodded in acknowledgement, for I know all about surrender...
I’d like to talk about this concept of surrender, and why it’s such a beautiful thing, at least in regards to crossdressing and the feelings that surrender may release. This is not about surrender in military terms, where you may be surrounded, running out of ammunition and food, at your wit’s end, and seeking help for the wounded that are suffering in appalling circumstances. In that case, surrender may be a last resort, or a foregone conclusion...
Nor is this about the kind of “surrender” that may take place in a marriage, where the husband surrenders to the wife, and the wife (theoretically) surrenders to the husband. Also, I’m not talking about surrender in a religious context, whereby one would surrender to Divine Will – the song lyrics quoted above relate to both concepts outlined in this paragraph, but I digress...
This is about being a male, or a boy, willingly surrendering gender expectation or a sense of male “self” in favor of a more incorporated persona, all because he tried on some VERY different clothing one day. I think in many of us who become MtF crossdressers, there is an internal conflict going on, whereby we’re trying to justify the need to dress with the need to be MALE. Personally, I don’t subscribe to this idea of a “woman within,” or “my other self,” preferring to see the truth of a whole being, regardless of what I choose to wear...
To reach this blessed state of incorporation, surrender is essential. Surrender literally means to yield or resign oneself to any influence, passion, or power. It can also mean to return, or restore. I believe the genders are not very far apart, but, throughout life, everyone does their level best to pry them apart and keep them separated – this strange, exhausting reality is reinforced daily in the media, and boys are expected to be boys, charged with a mission to obscure their own innate sensibilities. The further you go, the more difficult it is to “return” to the original truth...
“Stand and deliver” is an interesting phrase to contemplate at this point, because surrender also means to deliver – to transfer, to free, to release, or to set at liberty. When we dress in the wrong clothes, are we not surrendering to ourselves and releasing the “self” that has been torn asunder? Think of it in a masculine context, if you will, and “rescue” the girl that you have turned your back on, to put yourself back in HER (i.e. your) possession. Deliver means to pass from one to another, much like the prefix “trans-” we are all so familiar with. When you put on your pretty frock and stand before the mirror (into your soul, in this case), you have begun the process of surrender...
Of course, it may be difficult for some males to abandon their masculinity, but the clothing you have chosen to wear is evidence that you wish to return to your original incorporated state. Why not just surrender, and get it over with? Live to NOT fight another day, in this case, and enjoy the difference you had forgotten about. I should mention that I identify as a male, and I harbor no pretensions of ever “becoming” a female, so I believe in this condition (for lack of a better word) where boy and girl are the same being. I visualize myself as the two genders locked in an endless embrace, passionate at times, and neither one wishes to break the spell. It feels GOOD...
I think a lot of people have problems with MtF crossdressers because of this “surrender” aspect. I mean, it’s not manly to give yourself up, so they say, unless you are aware of this need to be together and not apart from your own precious reality. I surrender daily, and SHE becomes more visible, even though it’s just me in different clothing, clothing that is more appropriate to the situation at hand. In this case I yield in favor of another, the true “self” that I was born with – how did we ever get this far apart? "We" used to be so close together, but the world insists that we pick a gender and get on with it – getting back to square one involves surrender, or a tacit acknowledgement that all has not been well. Comfort sounds a lot better than discomfort, so I surrender to the inevitable...
So, I’m not waving a white flag, but I may wear a pretty white dress and indicate that I have most definitely surrendered. I give up, in fact I gave up a long time ago. I’m not interested in bolstering my maleness to please everyone and put them at ease, any more than I can force a square peg into a round hole with brute force and gain satisfaction from the act. Better to give up and enjoy life, yield to the passions within, bring them to the surface, and adorn myself with all the trappings of an incorporated self. I resign – thanks for a very enjoyable game, but being 100% boy was not my cup of tea. I’ve gone back home where I belong, and I’m truly happy...
How beautiful is this act of surrender? Have you surrendered to your “self”?
PS – even though I go by the name Frédérique (or Freddy) for convenience, I don’t have a separate, female persona. We are together, hand in hand, endlessly surrendering...:battingeyelashes:
His life of sorrows now collapsing into joy..."
(from "I Surrender" by David Sylvian)
I came across the title for this “essay” quite by accident, tucked into a delicate pamphlet like a quiet whisper. I nodded in acknowledgement, for I know all about surrender...
I’d like to talk about this concept of surrender, and why it’s such a beautiful thing, at least in regards to crossdressing and the feelings that surrender may release. This is not about surrender in military terms, where you may be surrounded, running out of ammunition and food, at your wit’s end, and seeking help for the wounded that are suffering in appalling circumstances. In that case, surrender may be a last resort, or a foregone conclusion...
Nor is this about the kind of “surrender” that may take place in a marriage, where the husband surrenders to the wife, and the wife (theoretically) surrenders to the husband. Also, I’m not talking about surrender in a religious context, whereby one would surrender to Divine Will – the song lyrics quoted above relate to both concepts outlined in this paragraph, but I digress...
This is about being a male, or a boy, willingly surrendering gender expectation or a sense of male “self” in favor of a more incorporated persona, all because he tried on some VERY different clothing one day. I think in many of us who become MtF crossdressers, there is an internal conflict going on, whereby we’re trying to justify the need to dress with the need to be MALE. Personally, I don’t subscribe to this idea of a “woman within,” or “my other self,” preferring to see the truth of a whole being, regardless of what I choose to wear...
To reach this blessed state of incorporation, surrender is essential. Surrender literally means to yield or resign oneself to any influence, passion, or power. It can also mean to return, or restore. I believe the genders are not very far apart, but, throughout life, everyone does their level best to pry them apart and keep them separated – this strange, exhausting reality is reinforced daily in the media, and boys are expected to be boys, charged with a mission to obscure their own innate sensibilities. The further you go, the more difficult it is to “return” to the original truth...
“Stand and deliver” is an interesting phrase to contemplate at this point, because surrender also means to deliver – to transfer, to free, to release, or to set at liberty. When we dress in the wrong clothes, are we not surrendering to ourselves and releasing the “self” that has been torn asunder? Think of it in a masculine context, if you will, and “rescue” the girl that you have turned your back on, to put yourself back in HER (i.e. your) possession. Deliver means to pass from one to another, much like the prefix “trans-” we are all so familiar with. When you put on your pretty frock and stand before the mirror (into your soul, in this case), you have begun the process of surrender...
Of course, it may be difficult for some males to abandon their masculinity, but the clothing you have chosen to wear is evidence that you wish to return to your original incorporated state. Why not just surrender, and get it over with? Live to NOT fight another day, in this case, and enjoy the difference you had forgotten about. I should mention that I identify as a male, and I harbor no pretensions of ever “becoming” a female, so I believe in this condition (for lack of a better word) where boy and girl are the same being. I visualize myself as the two genders locked in an endless embrace, passionate at times, and neither one wishes to break the spell. It feels GOOD...
I think a lot of people have problems with MtF crossdressers because of this “surrender” aspect. I mean, it’s not manly to give yourself up, so they say, unless you are aware of this need to be together and not apart from your own precious reality. I surrender daily, and SHE becomes more visible, even though it’s just me in different clothing, clothing that is more appropriate to the situation at hand. In this case I yield in favor of another, the true “self” that I was born with – how did we ever get this far apart? "We" used to be so close together, but the world insists that we pick a gender and get on with it – getting back to square one involves surrender, or a tacit acknowledgement that all has not been well. Comfort sounds a lot better than discomfort, so I surrender to the inevitable...
So, I’m not waving a white flag, but I may wear a pretty white dress and indicate that I have most definitely surrendered. I give up, in fact I gave up a long time ago. I’m not interested in bolstering my maleness to please everyone and put them at ease, any more than I can force a square peg into a round hole with brute force and gain satisfaction from the act. Better to give up and enjoy life, yield to the passions within, bring them to the surface, and adorn myself with all the trappings of an incorporated self. I resign – thanks for a very enjoyable game, but being 100% boy was not my cup of tea. I’ve gone back home where I belong, and I’m truly happy...
How beautiful is this act of surrender? Have you surrendered to your “self”?
PS – even though I go by the name Frédérique (or Freddy) for convenience, I don’t have a separate, female persona. We are together, hand in hand, endlessly surrendering...:battingeyelashes: